4. Zane
4
ZANE
I hate PTA meetings. But when Draven called about a club emergency, I couldn’t say no to watching Owen. The kid’s our godson, and family comes first. Still, walking into Wolf Pike Elementary feels like entering alien territory.
“Uncle Zane, I’m gonna be late.” Owen tugs my hand, pulling me faster down the hallway.
Ten years old and already worried about punctuality. Kid takes after his dad that way. “We’ve got five minutes, buddy. What’s the rush?”
“I want to sit with Violet.” He says this like it explains everything.
“Violet? Violet, who?”
“Violet Ashbourne.”
The name clicks.
Owen nods, still dragging me along. “She’s cool. Even if she’s only four.”
Great. Of all the kids in this school, Owen had to make friends with my new neighbor’s daughter. The neighbor whose whole essence has become a gnawing thought in my subconscious.
The meeting room’s already half full when we arrive. Parents cluster in small groups, and I’m scanning for empty seats when I hear a small voice.
“Owen! Over here!”
A tiny whirlwind in a yellow dress waves frantically from the back row. Must be Violet. But where’s?—
“Shit.” The curse slips out before I can catch it.
Because there’s Evie, looking nothing like the woman from yesterday’s interview. She’s in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back, and no makeup. Somehow, she’s hotter this way.
Owen pulls me toward them before I can suggest finding other seats. Violet practically bounces in place.
“You’re late,” she informs Owen seriously. “I had to fight Tommy for this chair.”
“Sorry.” Owen slides into the saved seat. “Uncle Zane drives slow.”
“I do not—” But my defense gets cut short by a sharp gasp from Evie.
“Daisy!” She’s on her feet, eyes wide with panic. “Get down from there!”
I turn to find her older daughter has somehow scaled the storage shelves along the wall. She’s reaching for what looks like a book on the top shelf.
My body moves before my brain catches up. Three quick steps, and I’m plucking her off the shelf just as her foot slips. She lands in my arms with a surprised “oof.”
“That was awesome!” Violet beams up at us, totally unfazed by her sister’s near-fall. “Do it again, Daisy!”
“Absolutely not.” Evie’s there, reaching for Daisy. Her fingers brush my arm as she takes her daughter, and something hot shoots through my blood.
“Sorry, Mama.” Daisy’s cheeks flush pink. “Tommy threw my book up there. I just wanted it back.”
“And climbing the furniture seemed like the best solution?” a new voice cuts in.
I turn to find a woman I don’t recognize watching us. She’s slim, professional-looking, with sharp eyes that miss nothing.
“Rose!” Evie calls excitedly, and so do her daughters. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“PTA meetings are important.” She winks. “Plus, I came in your new toy.”
A smile breaks out on Evie’s lips, and it blows my mind away.
“Uhm, Rose, this is Zane. My neighbor.”
Rose brings her hand forward for a shake. I take it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Zane,” she tells me.
Daisy squirms to be put down.
“Can we go play with Owen?” She points to where other kids are gathered around a toy corner. “Please?”
Evie hesitates. “The meeting’s about to start.”
“I’ll watch them,” I offer, surprising myself. “Better than sitting through budget discussions, right?”
Those green eyes of hers snap to mine. Then both girls add their pleading looks and Evie caves.
“Stay where I can see you.” She looks at each daughter in turn. “Both of you.”
The kids don’t need to be told twice. They race to the toy corner, Owen naturally slowing his longer stride to match the girls’ pace.
“Nice to meet you too, Rose,” I tell her before following the kids.
The toy corner’s got blocks and papers scattered around. Violet immediately starts telling Owen about some complex game involving dinosaurs and princesses.
“You’re Owen’s uncle?” she asks me suddenly.
“Sort of. His dad’s my good friend.”
“Cool.” She studies my tattoos with open curiosity. “Did you draw those?”
“Some of them.” I roll up my sleeve to show her the dragon that wraps around my forearm. “My brother Chase did this one.”
“Pretty.” Her small fingers trace the scales. “Can he draw me one?”
“When you’re older,” I laugh. “Much older.”
“That’s what Mama says about her tattoos.” Violet sighs dramatically. “I have to wait forever.”
My attention snaps back to Evie. She’s deep in conversation with Rose, her posture still tense. More tattoos, huh? Besides the vine?
“Uncle Zane?” Owen’s voice pulls me back. “Can you help us build a castle?”
Time passes, and I get to know the little girls better. Violet’s got her mother’s sharp wit and none of her caution. She directs our construction project like a tiny general.
Daisy joins us halfway through, more reserved than her sister but just as bright. She corrects my structural mistakes with the patience of someone who is used to dealing with less intelligent life forms.
I catch Evie watching us sometimes. Each time our eyes meet, that tension from yesterday sparks again. But it’s different now, softened by her daughters’ laughter.
The meeting winds down. Parents gather their kids, and I notice Rose has disappeared.
“Time to go, girls.” Evie helps Violet gather her drawings. “Say thank you to Mr. Cross.”
“Thank you!” Violet hugs my leg. “You build good castles.”
Something warm unfolds in my chest. The parking lot’s mostly empty when we head out. Owen is between me and Violet, their hands linked as they hop over painted lines in the asphalt. Daisy walks beside her mother, telling her about some book she’s reading.
My bike sits where I left it, chrome shining under streetlights. But when I hit the starter, nothing happens.
“Piece of shit.” I try again. Still nothing.
“Language,” Evie warns, but her lips twitch. “Problem?”
“Just needs a minute.” I’m not about to admit defeat in front of her. The third time’s the charm, except it’s not.
“We can give you a ride.” Violet bounces on her toes. “Right, Mama? Owen, too!”
“That’s not—” I start, but she’s already dragging Owen toward a truck I hadn’t noticed before. It’s a big Ford F-150, dark blue, and looks too much like a machine for someone Evie’s size. How didn’t I notice this back in the neighborhood? She must have had it hidden in her garage.
“It’s no trouble.” Evie pulls out her keys. “We can fit the bike in the back.”
“You drive that?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
Her eyebrow rises. “Something wrong with that?”
“No, just…” I eye the truck again. “Surprising.”
“I’m full of surprises, Mr. Cross.” She moves toward the driver’s side. “Coming?”
Like hell am I letting her drive my bike anywhere. “I’ll drive.”
She stops, keys dangling. “It’s my truck.”
“It’s my bike.”
“Children present,” Daisy reminds us primly, making Owen snicker.
Evie and I stare each other down. The kids watch like it’s a tennis match, heads swiveling between us.
“Bet Mama wins,” Violet stage-whispers to Owen. “She always does.”
That startles a laugh out of Evie, breaking our standoff. “Tell you what—you can drive if you can get your bike started in the next thirty seconds.”
I try the ignition again. Nothing. Fuck.
“That’s what I thought.” She tosses her keys at me anyway. “But since your ego’s involved, go ahead. Just don’t scratch my paint—she’s new.”
I snort. The truck clearly isn’t new. It’s got character—scratches with stories, mud from roads I bet weren’t on any map. Like its owner, there’s more here than first glance shows.
Loading the bike takes teamwork. The kids “supervise” from the cab, faces pressed against the back window. Evie knows her way around tie-downs, which is another surprise I wasn’t expecting.
The drive home feels surreal. Owen and Violet chat nonstop in the back seat while Daisy reads by dome light. Evie rides shotgun, giving directions as if she didn’t just move into town.
“Turn here,” she says at an intersection.
“I know where we live.”
“Just making sure you don’t get lost with my truck.”
“You always this much of a backseat driver?”
“Only with strange men driving my vehicle.”
“Strange?” I press a hand to my chest in mock hurt. “I’m wounded.”
She snorts, but there’s a smile playing around her mouth. “Eyes on the road, Mr. Cross.”
“Zane,” I correct her. “Mr. Cross is my brother.”
“Which one?”
“All of us, technically.”
That gets me a real laugh. It changes her whole face and makes her look younger and less guarded.
Owen’s house comes first. I help him out and promise to tell his dad about the PTA meeting. He hugs Violet goodbye like they’ve been friends forever instead of a few days.
The rest of the drive is quieter. Violet crashes against her sister’s shoulder, the late hour finally catching up. Evie watches them in the side mirror, something soft in her expression.
I park in her garage instead of between our houses.
“Need help with them?” I offer as she gathers Violet.
“We’ve got it.” But her tone is gentle now. “Thanks for the castle building. And the rescue.”
“Anytime.” I mean it more than I should.
Daisy leads the way to their door. Evie follows with Violet on her shoulder.
I wait until they’re inside before unloading my bike. Light spills from their windows as I wheel it next door. Through the living room glass, I catch glimpses of their nighttime routine. Evie carrying Violet upstairs. Daisy following with what looks like a stuffed unicorn.
Normal family stuff. Nothing special.
Except it feels special, somehow.
“You’re staring.” Chase’s voice makes me jump. He’s lounging on our porch, cigarette burning between his fingers.
“Admiring the truck.”
“Sure you are.” He exhales smoke. “Bike trouble?”
“Nothing major.” I lean against the porch rail. “You miss the show earlier?”
“What show?”
“Our new neighbor apparently drives a truck bigger than she is.”
Chase’s expression shifts slightly. “Interesting,” he says and pauses before muttering, “We’re so fucked.”
For once, I don’t have a smart-ass reply because he’s right.
Monday’s going to be interesting.