Chapter Eight
The house was finally quiet, and Willow sat curled into one of the chairs on Jay Bird’s back patio, one leg tucked beneath her as she held a tall glass of iced tea and looked across the enormous backyard.
The summer evening was warm, but a light breeze drifted off the creek and moved through the trees. Somewhere nearby, insects chirped steadily while the last streaks of sunlight disappeared beyond the property.
Willow breathed in deeply, letting the air fill her lungs as she sat there for a moment. She closed her eyes briefly and made a quiet promise that she would never take something as simple as this for granted again.
For three years, she had lived where Chen allowed her to live, often behind walls high enough that she couldn’t see much beyond them. Even when she had been permitted outside, there had always been someone watching. Fresh air had never really meant freedom.
Tonight, she could sit outside because she wanted to, and that alone felt like a luxury.
Willow lifted her glass and took a sip while thinking about the day.
There was a lot to process. Her identity, her father’s life insurance policy, and the fact that her brother was in prison, which, honestly, was the least surprising revelation of the day.
On top of that, the three thousand dollars was sitting in New York’s unclaimed-property system waiting for her, the unsettling knowledge that someone had been searching for Willow Beckett, and somehow, in the middle of all of it, she and Lily had temporarily taken Jay Bird’s last name.
She understood why they were doing it. But taking Jay Bird’s surname felt strangely personal—too intimate, even.
She had spent years listening to Chen call her his. She was his possession. His to use however he wanted.
But Jay Bird had offered his name and then immediately made it clear it gave him absolutely no claim over her.
That difference mattered more than she thought he realized.
Willow smiled faintly as her thoughts moved to the rest of the afternoon.
Lily had eventually warmed up to Derek, and it didn’t take long for everyone to realize that Commander Derek Connors had a surprising gift with toddlers.
Within an hour, Lily was happily showing him Ellie, her drawings, and what felt like seventeen completely random objects she had collected from around Jay Bird’s living room, as if each one were a priceless treasure she absolutely needed him to see.
Tink hadn’t been quite as successful, though he had definitely tried.
Lily, however, wasn’t having it. She stayed suspicious of the enormous former SEAL, watching him with narrowed eyes every time he spoke, as if she were still deciding whether he was friend, threat, or just a very large inconvenience.
Tink had finally looked at Jay Bird and muttered, “Your kid hates me.”
Jay Bird hadn’t corrected him, and surprisingly neither had Willow.
After Derek and Tink left, Jay Bird had walked her through his security system. He showed her every camera, explained the sensors, demonstrated how to pull up the feeds, and wrote down every code for her, even though she insisted she could remember them.
Then she had made dinner. It was nothing fancy, just spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread and a small salad that, apparently, she was the only one truly interested in eating.
Lily had made it through approximately half a meatball before exhaustion finally won.
The poor kid had literally fallen asleep at the table. One second she was still chewing, and the next her eyes had drifted shut as her little body started to tip forward.
If Jay Bird hadn’t caught her forehead with his palm, Lily would’ve nose-dived straight into her spaghetti.
Both Willow and Jay Bird had laughed.
After a bath, which had been less amusing because an overtired two-year-old apparently considered shampoo a personal attack, Lily had been dressed, tucked into bed with Ellie, and asleep before Willow finished pulling the blanket over her.
Jay Bird had cleaned the kitchen despite Willow insisting she could do it, then disappeared into his office.
And Willow had escaped out here because she needed quiet—needed a few moments alone to let her mind catch up and convince itself that everything she’d learned today was actually real.
Her gaze moved over Jay Bird’s backyard. And because she couldn’t help herself, she started mentally landscaping it, already picturing how a pool would look, with a patio space around it, and some flowers and foliage to give more character.
The sound of the patio door opening had her looking over her shoulder.
“So this is where you disappeared to,” Jay Bird said, stepping outside.
She smiled as he walked toward the empty chair beside her and sat down.
“You’re judging it again,” he said with a slightly amused tone.
Willow laughed. “I’m just admiring the view.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I am.”
“You’re mentally planting flowers.”
She nearly choked on her tea. “How did you know?”
He gave her a sarcastic look. “I’ve seen that look several times, and you’ve only been here two days.”
Willow laughed again. “Okay, fine. But seriously.” She gestured toward the property. “Look at this yard.”
“I’m looking.”
“No, really look at it. What could you see out there?”
His eyebrows pulled together, and Willow bit back a smile. He looked kind of cute when he did that, though she would never, ever admit it to him.
His gaze moved slowly over the property. “I wouldn’t mind a pool. But I don’t really entertain, though.”
Jay Bird shrugged, his gaze drifting toward the right side of the yard. “A playset would look good over there.”
Willow’s head snapped towards him. “A playset? For who?”
He looked at her as though the answer were obvious. “Who else would benefit from a playset in this house? I mean, you could probably play on it, but I’m a little big for one.”
She smiled faintly, but something about the casual comment lodged itself somewhere near her heart.
A playset didn’t feel temporary. At least not the way it sounded when he said it.
“What do you see?” he asked her.
If it were mine, I would extend this patio out to meet the pool.”
“I see that the pool is definitely staying in this imaginary renovation?”
“Absolutely. With the room you have out here, you could even do a custom design with rocks and work the landscaping around them, bringing out some color with flowers and foliage. Oh! And you definitely need a space for a fire pit.” Then she pointed toward the spot he had been talking about.
“And your playset could go over there. It would be far enough from the pool that you wouldn’t have to worry about kids running straight from one to the other. ”
“Kids?”
She grinned. “Well, I assumed kids since you said you were a little big to be playing on a playset.”
Jay Bird chuckled. “Now who’s being the smartass?”
Heat crept into her face. But then she shrugged. “Again, that is just my opinion.”
Jay Bird nodded slowly as he looked across the yard. “It doesn’t sound bad.”
“That’s practically a glowing endorsement from you.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
Willow smiled and took another drink.
For a while, neither of them spoke, but the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. Willow was starting to realize it rarely was with Jay Bird.
Finally, he leaned back in his chair. “How are you doing?”
Willow knew exactly what he meant. She could have given him the easy answer—just a simple fine and left it at that. But with everything he’s done for her and Lily, he deserved the truth.
“Overwhelmed, but grateful.”
He nodded as if understanding.
She looked at him. “I feel like I need to ask you again. Are you really okay with Lily and me using your last name? I mean, I don’t want you waking up tomorrow morning thinking, ‘what in the hell have I done.’”
Jay Bird turned slightly toward her. “That won’t happen. One thing you should know about me is that when I offer something, I mean it.” He paused for a moment and then continued. “
Willow, I was serious when I said that nobody here is going to make you do something you don’t want to do. Not Tink. Not Derek. Not me. If something makes you uncomfortable, say it. If you change your mind about the name tomorrow, we figure out another way.”
Willow swallowed. “You make it sound easy.”
“The saying-it part should be.”
“For me, it’s not.”
“I know.” Those two words were spoken without judgment.
Willow stared toward the creek. “Sometimes I don’t even know what I want anymore.”
Jay Bird’s voice softened. “You will.”
She turned toward him, only to find he was already watching her.
“Fuck, Willow, you survived three years with a man who spent every day trying to take your choices away. Then you got yourself and Lily out, and crossed half the damn world.” His jaw tightened slightly.
“That’s not somebody who doesn’t know how to make decisions.
You’re a hell of a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. ”
Tears started to build in Willow’s eyes. “Sometimes I don’t feel strong.”
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t.”
Jay Bird rested his hand palm-up on the arm of the chair between them. He didn’t reach for her or ask anything. He just left his hand there, open and waiting, giving her the choice without pressure.
Willow stared at his hand. It was large, rough, and open.
Her heartbeat quickened, but it wasn’t fear. At least not the fear of taking a man’s hand.
Slowly, she lifted her hand and placed it in his.
Jay Bird’s fingers closed gently around hers. He didn’t pull her closer. There was no suggestive brush of his thumb over her skin. He just held her hand like it was something worth taking his time with.
Willow breathed through the strange tightness in her chest. Baby steps, she thought to herself.
After a moment, Jay Bird said, “I have to go into work tomorrow.”
“Mia is going to come by.”
“Mia’s coming over?”
He nodded. “She texted earlier and said she would come hang out with you and Lily.”
Willow smiled. “I’d like that.”
“I figured you would.”
She yawned before she could stop herself, and Jay Bird chuckled.
Willow carefully slipped her hand from his and stood. “I should go to bed.”
He looked up at her. “Good night.”
Suddenly, her body acted before her brain did, and she bent down and lightly pressed her lips against his cheek.
The contact lasted barely a second, but the moment she pulled away, heat rushed straight to her face.
Jay Bird looked stunned.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
His eyebrows rose, and Willow immediately backed toward the house.
“Don’t you dare count that one.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Twenty-three.”
She shook her head. “Good night, Jay Bird.” Then she hurried inside before he could see how hard she was smiling.
Only after the patio door closed behind her did Willow stop and touch her fingers to her lips.
She had kissed him. Sure, it was just a peck on the cheek, but it had been her choice, and that alone made it feel like something far bigger than the moment itself.
She had wanted to touch him, and for the first time in years, she had acted on that want without fear of what someone expected in return.
Willow glanced through the glass, watching Jay Bird sitting in the chair, one hand rubbing absently over the cheek she had kissed.
Her smile softened. She knew she wasn’t going to get her life back in one sweeping moment. But maybe it would happen exactly like this, one choice at a time.