Chapter 13
Oz leaned back in his seat, the same hardback chair he sat in each week. Pressing business had been discussed and he knew things were winding down. King would soon be wanting more details of his trip. He scanned his brothers’ faces around the table. How would they react? Not that it really mattered. He did what he did and didn't regret it. At that moment he understood how his brothers had felt when they had gone against club rules for a woman. Oh, but not any woman. Taylor was special. He could see it. He just needed her to see it.
“Oz?” King spoke, snapping him from his thoughts.
He turned his attention to his president. “Yeah.”
"You reported the delivery a success. How was Taylor's reunion?"
Oz took a deep breath. "I brought her back with me." A quick note of reactions from his brothers told him exactly what he expected. Brick's eyes narrowed, cutting deep. KO's head dropped in disapproval. Rash's head fell to the side as if waiting for an explanation. And King's shoulders raised on a deep breath and his glare wasn't one of approval. He glanced toward Nova last. He got it. His lips twitched upward in amusement.
"I met them,” Oz pushed on. "That's a toxic household. Much worse than her being emaciated and homeless. The parents were more concerned about her interfering with their lifestyle. And her sister. . .” He shook his head, recalling the joy she radiated from attacking Taylor. "That bitch is evil. She was the first to put Taylor on the streets when she wouldn't conform to sabotaging a friend’s relationship.”
"What are you requesting?" King wanted to know.
"Nothing. Just let her get back on her own two feet."
"You plan on giving her a job at the Landing?" King asked.
"No. She'll find her own,” Oz informed him.
“London will be happy. She said that girl worked like nobody's business,” Rash spoke up.
"She's not going back there either."
"Clear this up,” KO leaned forward. “Did you bring her back as your old lady or what?"
"I'm giving her a home and lending her my car until she gets her own. As a friend. A house mate. Whatever you wish to call it."
"Crazy. That's what I call it," Ghost jumped in.
"That may be true,” Oz agreed. "But she needs support and encouragement more than anything else right now. She must learn she doesn't need to depend on anyone else. Then she'll be confident and happy with herself. You know you can’t move forward until you have all your ducks together. I’m just helping round up those ducks.”
"A little praise goes a long way," Blade advised.
"I'm counting on that," Oz admitted.
"You've always done things the hard way. Just tell her how it's going to be and be done with it,” Cowboy said.
"Like you did? Hell, you thought we didn’t know you two were sneaking around,” Nova laughed, reminding Cowboy of his past. "If not for Oz manipulating the system and staying on top of things, she would be hitched to somebody else."
Cowboy laughed among the snickers of his brothers. "She does do what I say." He cocked his head toward Mac. "Isn't that what you said women do?"
"If she knows what's good for her," Mac joked.
Lola shook his head. "Y'all are sad. I didn’t need to manipulate Mia.”
"You just happened along when she was vulnerable and didn’t know better,” Brew told Lola.
"What can I say? I have perfect timing,” Lola agreed.
"All joking aside, what are you asking of us?" King pressed for clarity.
"Just give me some leeway. She's not a bad person. Only bad situations. I've gotten to know a different side of her. One I believe anyone has rarely witnessed. She’ll be separate from the club, but if you do see her, don't treat her any differently. She'll heal how she needs to and whatever happens will happen.”
***
Oz didn’t seem to notice the fading sun. Normally he would be appreciative of the darkening sky declaring another day lived. But tonight, his thoughts were back in Kansas City. Specifically, the Arison home. Their complete disregard for their daughter still boiled his blood as the encounter echoed through his mind.
“What kind of parents are you to turn away from your own daughter? Afraid your character will be proven a fa?ade if the truth of the situation was under your roof?”
“Taylor is surely being dramatic,” Tenley had snapped.
Oz whirled on Tenley. “Hold up there, homewrecker.”
Mr. Arison stepped forward. “You can’t talk to my daughter like that.”
By this point, Oz was utilizing every ounce of power in himself to appear calm. “I’ll talk to her and to you any damn way I please. And if you take another step toward me, I’ll break your fucking neck.”
Mrs. Arison’s gasp did nothing to slow his rant. How dare she pretend to be innocent?
“You think she was being dramatic, being held against her will? Is that why no one looked for her during those long months she was missing? You thought she was being dramatic? Or were you afraid of the fact that your precious princess here tossed her to into the hands of the maniac who had her after she kicked her out of her home?”
“How dare you!”
He had no doubt the distress Tenley screeched out in her scolding was well rehearsed for any such occasion. “The knife stings a little. Doesn’t it?”
“SEE HERE,” Mr. Arison bellowed, although he dared not budge from his spot next to the door.
“I see you’re afraid of the truth. But your own flesh and blood was unable to hide from the truth of the things she was forced to endure, while all that time no one lifted a finger to locate her.” Oz lifted her bags as he told them, “Taylor’s a survivor. You did nothing. You didn’t listen to her. You didn’t trust her judgement. You didn’t care. And you didn’t miss her.” He turned from Tenley then and stared deep into her father’s eyes. He blamed that man for enabling the entire fiasco to be possible. “So, thanks for the life lesson.”
“Daddy, do something.”
Oz walked away and back into the present as his headlight passed through the windows of his home after he turned from the road. He silenced the engine and dropped the kickstand. The yellow curtain glowing in the glass of the kitchen door had never looked so inviting. He had fought thoughts of Taylor all day as he stayed away, giving her time to settle in. After the horrid family reunion and the quick drive home, he felt she needed a bit of time to herself. He wanted to help, not hover.
He sucked in a breath, blowing it out slowly. The drive home. It had been a rush. Most of the drive, Taylor's silence shouted questions. Questions he was asking himself, too. What now? It was time to figure that out. He stood and headed inside.
He pushed open the door and paused. Something smelled good. The tiny table in the corner of the room resembled something from a magazine. Dishes set for two. Glasses waiting to be filled. And the food looked delicious. Nice. Or was this a new problem to handle? One he set into motion at the hotel?
"Welcome home,” Taylor greeted from the doorway to the living room.
"You've been busy."
"I didn't think you'd mind. It's tough to sit still all day. I settled into the guestroom. Thought I'd tidy up a bit for you, but I think your place is spotless.”
"Can't stand clutter,” he told her. "To many other things to do than spend time cleaning.”
"I showered and borrowed a shirt from your closet. Hope you don't mind.”
Of course he didn't mind. She could have anything of his she wanted. And he had noticed his shirt the moment she appeared. Bare feet. Her hair twisted on top of her head. Yeah, he had noticed. He could easily come home to this every day. "Of course, I don't mind." He forced his gaze up to meet her eyes with a smile.
"Hungry?"
Oz nodded. "It smells amazing."
"I hope you like it. It's been a while since I've been in a real kitchen.”
“The table looks wonderful and no doubt the food is just as delightful.”
Taylor padded toward the oven. “I hope so.” She uncovered a dish sitting on top and lifted it, carrying it to the table.
“I’ll wash up and be ready to dig in,” Oz told her.
Taylor smiled and began to fill the plates as he walked out.
He made quick work of scrubbing away the road grime from his hands, arms, and face, then returned to the kitchen. His heartbeat crept up into his throat.
Returning home to find Taylor in his shirt was nothing compared to this. Homemaker Taylor enticed him more than he thought possible. She stood next to a welcoming table with confidence and ease. Nothing fancy. Just a casserole dish with place settings for two. “Ready?”
Taylor twisted toward Oz. “All set.”
She settled into her seat and Oz slid into the chair across from her. He dug his fork into the meal. This looked tasty. He chewed. Once. Twice. He dared a glance toward Taylor and forced it down.
“What is this?” he asked, stabbing his fork into the food again.
“It’s a casserole dish that I tried to recreate from memory.” She attempted a smile that Oz thought appeared strained. “I must have misremembered something,” she whispered.
Oz grinned and forced down another bite.
Taylor leaned back and her hands fell into her lap. “You don’t have to eat it. I know how it tastes.”
Oz chuckled. “Do you cook?”
“Apparently not.”
Oz burst into laughter.
Taylor began fidgeting. He didn’t intend to hurt her feelings. Lord knows she’d had enough of that. But he believed in being honest and she needed to know.
“You have to admit this is kinda' funny.”
“I wanted to do something nice for you and I feed you this. It’s so bad you couldn’t even pretend to like it.”
“If I pretend, then you may cook it again.”
Taylor grinned at that. “Not a chance. This stuff is awful.”
“Go ahead. It’s okay to laugh,” Oz said as he reached for the dish in the center of the table. “How about we toss this and make a sandwich?”
Taylor bit her lips and breathed a soft laugh.
“Let it go,” he told her.
Taylor looked up toward Oz and joined his laughter. “Okay.” She stood. “Please let me do that. You relax.”
“But I can help.”
Taylor shook her head. “I’ll feel better if you let me do it. It’s the least I can do for the horrible meal I offered you.”
Oz leaned back into his seat. “Alright.” He watched her float across the floor like she owned the place. He groaned inside and adjusted his jeans before she turned to face him. "What type of job are you wanting to find.”
“Not a bank.”
Her slight grin was confirmation she was joking about her bad situation. A step in the right direction, he thought. “Do you miss your job at the bank?”
“I wish I could say yes. But not really. I miss school and sewing more. My sister came here because her…” Taylor paused, twisting her mouth as if choosing her words. “Because a man was willing to put her up in a house. A house that she blackmailed him for the deed to eventually. Anyway, our father thought she shouldn’t be alone this far from home and sent me along with her. He then pulled strings and used connections to give me the job. In his words, I could ‘find a wealthy husband’ that way.” She shook her head and placed the top slice on one of the sandwiches.
"Anyway, I don’t have the luxury of being choosy. I just need something that pays enough to live on. I'm basically beginning over. Although I don’t miss the bank, I had come to like the people there, but I have no references from them.”
"If you want, I’ll help you find openings to apply for. And until you can afford a car of your own, you can use mine.”
"I'd love the help.” She glanced up from preparing the sandwiches. “But I can find something nearby and walk to and from work.”
"Absolutely not. Your way fell through. It’s my way now. I’ll not have you walking all over town alone. It's not safe. I have my bike. You’ll use the car. I will not do things for you, but I will help if you ask.”
"I really do appreciate your help.”
"I will advise you to get another bank account. You'll need it to get paid, along with a permanent address. A trip to the bank first thing tomorrow and you'll have both. Then you can job hunt.”
“What do you want in return for helping me?” Taylor’s arms fell lax against the countertop, pulling down her shoulders.
Oz was silent. What could he say? He had the feeling nothing he requested would be out of the question. “For starters, you can learn to cook.”
Taylor laughed. “I can do that.”
“And when you get a flow coming in, we’ll discuss rent.”
Taylor’s smile grew. “Sounds good,” Taylor agreed as she carried two plates toward him. “I promise these are edible.”
And they were. It was the perfect meal, as far as Oz thought. When they'd finished, he stood, insisting on clearing the table.
A glimpse of bright yellow on the countertop flashed in the corner of his eye. Taylor’s suncatcher. He placed the dishes in the sink and picked it up.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was admiring it earlier while cooking.” Taylor reached out. “I’ll take it back to my room.”
“I think the kitchen is the perfect place for it.” Oz opened a drawer and began digging through the contents. “This is how this is going to go,” Oz began telling Taylor. “I’ll hang this in the kitchen window to remind you every day what you are. Where you’re going.”
“I’ll only be here for a few days,” Taylor reminded him.
Oz wasn’t ready to hear that, so he chose to ignore it and hang the decoration in the window.
“Every butterfly begins as a caterpillar,” he told her. “Crawling from leaf to leaf, searching for the perfect place to change. You’ve tried your greener pastures. Now it’s time to break from the cocoon of fear you’ve wrapped yourself in and spread those wings. You’re a beautiful and intelligent woman. Focus on that and what your heart desires. Not the past or what others expect, but what is true to you. What your wings hold for you.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“Yes, you are.”
“But . . .”
In an instant, Oz caught her chin, stopping her thoughts with his thumb. “Negativity will seep into here from time to time.” He tapped her temple. “But never allow it to escape through here.” Her lips were soft under his touch. “If your ears hear it from our own lips, your heart will learn to believe it.”
***
Oz locked the kitchen door. The thought of a movie with Taylor by his side sounded promising. She had been in her room when he finished his shower. A knock on her door and if she was still awake, he'd ask her.
Oz turned and froze. Taylor stood leaning against the doorway. The shirt she had taken from his closet hung loosely on her shoulders, the front open. Her perfectly round breasts that he itched to feel again were right there within reach.
“Thank you for the place to stay.”
Oz couldn't control the grin that took over him. He crooked his finger, summoning her to him.
The shirt slipped from her shoulders as she sauntered toward him.
Her skin was warm and reminded him of silk under his touch. His palm cupped her cheek and slid down her neck pausing at her shoulder. "There is nothing I would love better than exploring every inch of you. Again.” He hooked his fingers underneath the edge of the pale blue material and slid it back up her shoulder. “But if we do, it won't be because you feel obligated to. You’re worth so much more than this.” He hooked one button. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” Another button. “And that night at the hotel.” A third button and his words fell off. How did he not injure her already shaky confidence? “I should have never taken advantage of you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I did. I thought I’d not see you again and I had a weak moment. I’m stronger than that, and you’re better than that.”
Her fading smile stabbed him in the chest. He had disappointed her, but no more disappointed than he was. He pulled her to himself and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Forgive my old-fashioned flare, but I was thinking that we should curl up upon the couch and get to know each other at our own pace."
Taylor leaned back. "Snuggling? That's even better.”
Snuggling? That word never passed my lips. Oh, but that gleam in her eye . “Let’s pick out a movie and grab a drink.”
She whirled away, nearly bouncing across the floor.
Snuggling. Oz shook his head. Not at all better, but that’s all that would happen tonight. He adjusted his arousal, wishing he had put on more than pajama bottoms. Damn that girl was going to make this tougher than he'd imagined.