Chapter 8 Austin
EIGHT
AUSTIN
It was Monday morning and I rolled over to check the clock for the third time. With Selene’s reluctance to accept help, we hadn’t really discussed a start time, so I had spent the last hour lying in bed and listening for sounds of chaos through the wall.
It only took a simple internet search to learn that Winnie’s school day started at eight thirty. If all went well, I could drop Winnie off at school and still be at Star Harbor Farms and on the jobsite before nine.
Piece of cake.
By seven, Winnie’s footsteps were thundering across the floorboards, and I hauled myself out of bed for a quick shower. Afterward, I walked out my front door and across the porch to theirs.
Before my knock even had time to land, the front door was flying open. “Good morning!” Winnie shouted with excitement.
Selene stood in the doorway, breathless and rearranging her robe like she hadn’t meant for the door to open at all. Her hair was wild, her cheeks flushed, and it took every shred of decency I had not to stare.
“Winnie, I told you not to—” She looked at me. “Sorry.”
I raised my palms. “We hadn’t talked about a start time. I made my best guess, but I can come back if you don’t need me right now.”
My mind flickered across the rogue thought that Selene might be naked beneath that robe, and my brain short-circuited for a full three seconds.
She flicked a hair from her face, drawing my attention back to the present.
“No, it’s okay.” Selene let a soft smile grace her shapely lips.
“You have impeccable timing, actually. Winnie was just getting dressed.” Selene grinned at her daughter and redirected her shoulders to point toward the stairs, to which the little girl grumbled, but complied.
She turned to me. “I was just finishing her lunchbox and wanted to go over a few ground rules with you.”
When Selene stepped aside, I entered her house and turned to her with my hands on my hips. “Rules?”
She shrugged and it took every part of me to keep my gaze respectable and not linger on the way the thin fabric of her robe sagged on one shoulder.
“Expectations,” she said. “I figured I would give you the same rundown as Amanda, and we can go from there.”
“You’re the boss,” I simply said, which earned me a playful eye roll.
Selene walked deeper into her home, and I obediently followed.
“Around seven thirty or seven forty-five would be the most helpful,” she said.
“That way you can help get her ready for school, and I can get myself ready if I have an eight o’clock meeting.
School lets out at three-oh-five, and I would love to be able to work until about five.
” Her hazel eyes sliced to mine. “If that works for you, of course.”
I smiled. “That works.”
“Some days my schedule is flexible, and if I can, I would like to walk her to school myself or pick her up. So . . .” Selene’s teeth captured her lower lip as she glanced up at me through heavy-lidded lashes.
“We should exchange numbers so I can give you a heads-up if the schedule changes, or you can let me know if you have any issues and can’t help out. ”
I smirked. “First names and phone numbers. Wow.”
Her eyes flared. “We do not speak of that night ever. That’s the first rule.”
My nose scrunched. “These rules aren’t very fun.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “If there’s any chance in hell this is going to work, for my own sanity, I need us to both pretend that that night never existed.”
I blew a steady stream of air through my lips and shook my head. “I don’t know if that’s possible”—I stuffed my hands in my pockets—“but I’ll do my best.”
She looked exasperated, so I thought I’d cut her some slack.
“All right, hit me with the rest,” I said. “What are the other rules?”
Selene’s chin dipped as each rule was checked off her mental to-do list. “We don’t do any screen time before school, or until at least after dinner.
I would prefer never, but I’m not a total monster.
Processed sugar is dicey. If you give it to her, you may have a maniac on your hands.
So if you want to preserve any of your sanity, save anything like that for an after-school treat.
She needs closed-toe shoes for school. And no matter what she says, under no circumstances, are we adopting a pet.
I don’t care what she says or how cute she looks when she asks. ”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the last one. “No adoptees.” I chuckled. “Got it. I think I can handle that. Anything else, boss?”
Selene groaned. “God, why are you being so nice?”
I leaned against her kitchen counter. “Why are you so surprised that people don’t mind helping you?”
Selene eyed me suspiciously, but it was clear she was more than a little tired and grateful for me to lend a hand.
With her finger in the air, Selene stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “Just because you’re charming doesn’t mean I trust you.”
God, she was cute when she was trying to be tough.
I dipped my chin. “That’s fair, but I’m sure I’ll win you over with sheer tenacity and my superior granola bar management skills.”
A half laugh rattled in the back of Selene’s throat, and I was rewarded with a sly smile at the corner of her mouth.
Selene eased past me with graceful movements. “We’ll be down in a few minutes.” She tipped her head toward the coffeepot in the corner. “The coffee is hot. Sugar’s in the jar next to it, and cream is in the fridge.”
I nodded without responding, and as she slinked upstairs, I took in the space around me.
It was uncanny how you could clearly see a beautiful home had been divided and made into this monstrosity of a rental property. Modern walls had been shoehorned into a once-historic building. You could see it in the way the original crown molding disappeared on her side but continued on mine.
Out in the joint backyard a smattering of rain made music on the back steps. Listening for any signs of trouble upstairs, but not hearing any, I hurried over to my apartment side to grab an umbrella.
When I stepped back into their side, Winnie was just coming down the stairs. Her little grin with one front tooth missing was too damn cute.
“Almost ready, kid?” I asked.
Winnie was dressed in a pair of knee-length denim shorts and a red-and-blue-striped shirt.
“Almost,” she chirped. “I want a French braid and a big bow.” She turned back up the stairs. “Mama!”
I stepped forward. “Oh, whoa, hey—maybe there’s something I can help with.” I shrugged.
Winnie eyed me skeptically, her hands propped on her little hips. “You know how to French braid?”
“Absolutely not.” I shook my head with a chuckle. I spun my finger in a circle. “Give me a quick twirl.”
Happy to be the center of attention, Winnie obliged, twirling in a big circle and ending on a curtsy.
“How would you feel about a mediocre ponytail with that big bow? That I think I can handle.”
Her lips pursed, but almost immediately she shrugged. “Sure, why not,” she relented, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I opened my arms. “Well, step on up to Austin’s beauty parlor.”
Winnie chuckled and turned so I could gather her wild hair into a ponytail. Her brown strands were past her shoulders, half of it curly and the other half poking out in different directions. I did my best to gather it behind her, smoothing the front and sides without tugging too hard on her scalp.
“High or low?” I asked.
Winnie shot a skeptical look over her shoulder. “High,” she decided. “And how do you know how to do a ponytail?”
I laughed, piling her hair higher on her head. “Well,” I explained, “right after college, I moved from Michigan to California. I thought being a surfer sounded really cool. I even grew my hair out long so I would look the part.”
“What happened?” she asked.
My mind drifted briefly to the wild, reckless time when I was an aimless kid simply looking for acceptance and purpose in my life.
“Scrunchie,” I called, and Winnie lifted her wrist so I could pluck the elastic band and begin twisting it in her hair.
“Turns out it’s a lot harder for a guy who grew up in the Midwest to learn how to surf.
” I tightened her ponytail and accepted the large red ribbon she held out, looping it into an exaggerated bow.
“I was a terrible surfer,” I continued. “But I learned how to tie a pretty good ponytail.” I patted her shoulder. “What do you think?”
Winnie moved to the mirror in the hallway to examine my work. She turned her head left, then right. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “It’s pretty good.”
Who knew a simple compliment from a precocious five-year-old could hit you right in the damn chest?
“Thanks,” I said with a proud smirk, just as Selene came down the stairs.
“Austin did my hair, Mama,” Winnie announced. “We’re ready to go, and you’re making us late.”
Selene stopped before she hit the last step and blinked in my direction. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Piece of cake . . . and you’re not making anyone late.” My eyes flicked down her outfit. She had chosen a pair of denim cutoffs and a black-and-white-striped T-shirt. Over the top she wore an unbuttoned denim shirt.
“You look beautiful,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “You can’t say stuff like that.”
My eyebrows pinched down. “Another rule?”
“Yes.” She breezed past me with a huff, and her shoulders sagged as she looked out the front window. “Shoot. It’s raining, so the walk will be pretty miserable.”
Selene glanced at the small slim gold watch on her wrist. “I can probably drive her and be back in time for my meeting.”
“I can drive Winnie to school, that’s no problem. That’s what I’m here for.” I eased back on my heels.
“She’s not riding on a motorcycle.” Selene’s eyes narrowed at me. “Is the truck safe?”
When we had met, I was riding an old motorcycle.
After my father died, the motorcycle was the only thing I had from my dad.
Brody had given it to me, more than likely because he felt guilty that our father left nothing that even acknowledged my existence.
Now the bike was sitting unused, and Selene had seen the piece-of-shit pickup I’d moved in with.
Once I’d really considered the idea of helping Selene with her kid, I figured a better car would be necessary. I hadn’t specifically bought that vehicle for Winnie or Selene, but there was something I liked about being the kind of guy who’d think to buy it for someone like them.
“That SUV in the drive is mine.” I smiled, hoping she’d just give in already. “It’s new. Safest one they had.”
“I’m not sure . . .” Selene chewed on her bottom lip as she considered my offer.
“Selene, it’s literally what I’m here to do—help you in the mornings with Winnie so you can get to work on time and not be so stressed in the process.
Come check out the booster seat I have for her and make sure it will work for her size.
I had some help at the store, but I sort of had to guess at her height and weight. ”
For a second Selene just stared at me. “You got a booster seat for her?”
I shrugged. “I figured Star Harbor is pretty walkable, but there might be times we have bad weather or we don’t feel like it, so at least we have the option to drive.”
Her pert mouth popped open like a fish, but she quickly snapped it shut at my simple logic. Leading the way, I walked outside toward my brand-new crossover SUV.
Looking down her nose, Selene examined the car seat and how it was attached to the anchoring system.
She tugged on the seat and straps once for good measure before lifting her eyes to mine. “It’s perfect.”
Her approval was like a shot of adrenaline, and my face lit up. “Yeah? I did good?”
Selene rolled her eyes and chuckled. “It’s even nicer than the one I have.” She shook her head. “It’s more than okay. Thank you.”
“All right.” I grinned at her. Over her shoulder I called Winnie down from the porch. “Well, kid, let’s do this. Load up.”
Winnie bounded down the stairs, plowing into Selene with a great big hug. “Bye, Mom, see you later.”
Selene hugged her daughter and clung to her for a fraction of a second longer. When she looked up, I could see she was fighting tears of exhaustion.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I drove to school, floating six inches off the ground.