Chapter 6 Melody
Melody
I left the cupcakes at the ranch and had to turn around to go get them. Thankfully, I hadn’t driven too far before I realized that. I rush into the house and scoop up the containers, then start back toward town again.
The kids are quiet in the backseat as they listen to a kids’ program on the radio. I tune it out and unfortunately, that lets my thoughts drift back to the cowboy I don’t want to think about.
I had managed to put up a good front by telling him my heart is out of bounds. Truthfully, I’m scared shitless. Because each second spent in Jonas’s company, I can tell he’s not as bad as I thought he was. And that’s not good for me. Because I don’t want to get fooled again.
Before the last blind date, the one from hell, I didn’t walk on eggshells at the idea of getting into a relationship. Of possibly giving my heart away.
That blind date guy tried his best to sweep me off my feet. By our fourth date, I was starting to lower my guard thinking maybe I’d found a guy who thought I was interesting and cute. I’d thought he’d really liked me.
Then I’d overheard him talking to his friend that he was only dating me because of my family’s wealth and the fact my grandfather is a judge. He’d said it would help his law career and he wouldn’t have to work so hard to be successful if he married into connections.
His friend had asked, “Are you sure she’d be willing to marry you?”
“Her pathetic fat ass is grateful for any crumb of attention she gets.”
“You never know. You might end up falling for her,” his friend had jeered.
Blind date asshole had laughed. “Melody’s not the kind of woman a man falls in love with or stays with. She’s just a temporary plan.”
“Aunt Melody! You passed the school,” Kaden says.
I snap back to the present. “Sorry, honey.” I relax my strangulation hold on the steering wheel and turn the car around.
I drop off the kids then drive to the flower shop. It doesn’t take a therapist to tell me that I have “unresolved issues” when it comes to relationships. I know that’s why I refuse to think about having anything but sex with Jonas.
If I’m going to be a temporary plan, it’ll be a plan I make. I’ll be the one who does the walking away instead of getting my heart walked on. As soon as I have hot and wild sex with him a time or two. Or three, then I’ll be done. We’ll each go back to our separate lives with hearts intact.
Feeling better and more settled now that I’ve reaffirmed my goal, I begin rehydrating the flowers that need it. A couple of hours go by while I wait on customers in between starting inventory. Taking inventory is my least favorite part of this business.
My phone rings while I’m in the middle of searching for a missing box of floral tape and wire and when I see Jonas’s name on the screen I immediately answer, my heart racing. What if he got injured working on the roof?
“I’m on my way to the school,” he announces.
I glance at the tulip-shaped clock on the wall. “They don’t get out for a while yet. What’s wrong? Is one of them sick?”
“No. Apparently Marianna cut her hair with scissors and she’s upset.”
Been there, done that. “Pick me up. I’ll go with you.” I work until Jonas arrives, then lock up and hop into the truck beside him.
He looks concerned. “Her teacher called again a few minutes ago and said she’s crying hysterically now.”
“Poor Marianna.”
We meet the teacher at the school, and she leads us toward an office where Marianna’s sobs carry through the closed door.
Jonas rushes in and scoops her up. “I’m here.”
I pat her gently on the back. “Everything’s okay.”
“I’m ugly,” Marianna says between sobs.
“Oh, honey, that’s not true,” I protest.
“A boy told me my hair was ugly and I cut it.”
I put my hand on her head, but before I can speak, Jonas says, “You’re still as pretty as you were when you got up this morning.”
“I’m dumb.”
“No, you’re adventurous and smart. And brave.”
My throat tightens at the gentle way he doesn’t let her put herself down.
“How about I take you to the salon and we get some sparkle added to your hair?” he says.
Marianna stops crying. “Like a fairy?”
“Exactly like a fairy,” Jonas says.
And…I’m melting. I cut my hair once as a kid and my mother was livid. I didn’t hear the end of what an embarrassment I was for weeks after that.
I sign Marianna out of school while Jonas carries her to the truck.
I hold her hand while we drive to the salon a few streets over and then walk in. Marianna grips my hand tighter while Jonas talks in a low tone to the hairdresser. The woman nods and smiles a little too long at him. It’s kind of flirtatious, too. I frown.
The hairdresser helps Marianna into the chair and covers her with a cape.
Jonas and I take a seat by a row of windows.
“You’re good with the kids,” I say. “You’d make a great dad.”
He turns his attention toward me and because we’re sitting close together, the power of his gaze is stronger than usual.
“I’ve never thought much about that.”
“Why not?” I’m curious about him and probably shouldn’t be if I want to keep my heart out of his reach.
“I spent too many years trying to survive and overcoming shit to think about having a future family.”
I want to ask him about those years, but I won’t. I don’t want to poke at wounds. Because I know from the small bit that Raven told me that all the Richford brothers had a hellish childhood.
“All done,” the hairdresser announces half an hour later. She removes the cape draped around Marianna. She’d put a dusting of something glittery in Marianna’s shorter hairstyle.
When she shows Marianna her reflection in the mirror, she claps her hands together, her smile restored.
As Jonas pays, the hairdresser slips him a business card with her number and another flirty smile.
“I’ll hang onto this,” I tell him, taking it from his hand and slipping it into my dress pocket.
Outside in the early March afternoon, Jonas pretends to take a bite of the air. “It tastes like a pizza and ice cream kind of day,” he says. “Let’s go spring your brother and make it happen.”
Marianna jumps up and down. “Yay!” She raises her hand to me. “Hold my hand.”
I hold one while Jonas holds the other. Walking along the sidewalk, we look like a young family. I glance at him. Seeing this side of Jonas has thrown me for a loop.
“Pick me up!” Marianna demands of Jonas as we reach the truck.
He lifts her high while making airplane sounds and then drops her onto the seat. She laughs and I’m relieved to see her sunshine smile again.
“Now do Aunt Melody,” she orders.
“No! Really, I’m too—” That’s all I have time to say before Jonas swoops me up.
He puts one arm around my waist, the other behind my legs.
“I want you so badly,” he whispers as he sets me on the seat. My heart beats a crazy jig and I remain unsettled through the pizza and the ice cream evening.
Even later, after we arrive home and get the kids down for the evening, I still feel skittish—caught between desire and something far more dangerous. I don’t know if I like this new normal between Jonas and me. But I’m not sure I dislike it either.
He’s outside sitting on the porch swing, and I decide to join him.
The night is clear, the kind that makes the stars seem larger and brighter.
A warm breeze stirs the leaves on the big oak tree in the center of the front yard.
I sit beside him with our thighs brushing. I’ve begun to realize he’s not the villain I thought he was. Maybe he’s even the kind of man who could be a hero. And that possibility is what unsettles me the most.
“You handled today well,” I say softly. “When I was a kid, I wore my hair long and I was so proud of it. But the principle’s kid kept putting gum in it. I’d cry and try to get it out. After months of that, I cut my hair myself. I cut it so short that I nearly balded myself.”
I laugh but the sound holds no humor. “My mother was livid. She said I was an embarrassment to the family and should never forget I had a duty to uphold the family name.”
I don’t turn my head to check, but I sense his gaze on me.
“You were just a kid,” Jonas says. “And kids do things that are silly or funny or unwise. But it doesn’t make any kid an embarrassment. Even if you had cut off every inch of your hair, the only duty you have as a kid is to be a kid.”
I glance at him. The light from the window by the swing casts across his face, highlighting his rugged good looks.
gives me a clear view of his handsome face. “I always embarrass my family. I feel like I’m constantly messing up. My grandfather used to joke and call me his little screw up.”
He reaches for a strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. His fingers graze my cheek. “I don’t think you’re a screw up and if he thinks that’s a joke, I don’t find him funny at all.”
“That’s just the way my family is,” I say. “I should have tried harder.”
“This isn’t your issue and frankly, I don’t like the thought of anyone treating you with less than you deserve.”
“What is it you think I deserve?”