14. Mars
Mars
“But I’m not a townie.”
The word is so strange coming out of her mouth that I choke on my coffee and spit it all over the counter. She looks at the mess, then looks up at me with her eyes wide and her mouth open, like she thinks I may have just lost my mind.
Or like she may be in trouble for having caused the carnage.
I dislike that thought so much that I push it to the side and refuse to look at it again. Besides, she said something that requires and answer.
“Not a townie? Where did you even learn that word? Besides, you live here, don’t you?”
She tips her head. “I mean at the moment yes, but–”
“That makes you one of us. And that means you’re included.”
She shuts her mouth now, like she doesn’t have an argument for once, and stares at me quietly.
And despite myself, despite all the misgivings about having her here and thinking about her too much–dreaming about her at night when I know I shouldn’t–I let myself stand here and drink her in.
She doesn’t hold still often, definitely doesn’t keep quiet much, and I haven’t had much chance to just look at her.
Now that I’m looking, I don’t know if I want to stop.
She’s beautiful in a way that almost doesn’t make sense.
Eyes too large, cheekbones too sharp, lips too lush to belong on the same face.
She’s tiny enough to be fun-sized and tends to draw in on herself rather than standing up straight, which makes her seem even smaller.
Like someone I want to tuck into my breast pocket and carry with me through the day.
Someone I can keep close to me in case I want another look. Another touch.
Another whispered giggle in the middle of a quiet bookstore.
But there’s more to her than that, and I’d be a fool to think she was just some slight girl who needed a hero. There’s strength in those eyes, a way of lifting her chin that makes me think she’s spent more time than she’d admit taking care of herself when other people let her down.
This infuriates me, because a girl like her should have been surrounded by people who would have sold their souls to keep her safe, and instead...
Instead, she was taken captive and then left to her own devices.
Until she got here and I got my hands on her.
But that’s nothing. I’m just doing the same thing any step-uncle would do.
And that’s the only role I can ever have in her life.
My heart squeezes at the thought, fighting against the implications and screaming that it wants more.
It wants to reach out and touch her. Pull her to me and run my fingers through that tangled, fawn-colored hair.
Brush my lips across the tip of her nose before I take her mouth and show her what my body thinks of her.
Heat floods me at the thought of it, coming to rest firmly in my groin, and I nearly gasp out loud at the sudden hardening there.
God, what the fuck is wrong with me? This girl is in trouble and is my step-niece. She’s not some town girl looking for a date.
She’s far, far more important.
“So we’re just going to... decorate?” she asks hesitantly.
This brings me sharply back to reality, and I nod. “Every year we have a summer festival. Town goes all out. Booths, food, contests, you name it. But we have to decorate first. And every business in town is in charge of that part.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “Summer festival? It’s April.”
I shrug at that. “Yeah well, traditions and all that. Someone made it happen in April once and now that’s the month when we have it. I don’t make the rules.”
She looks at me askance. “But your family does. So technically it’s your family’s fault that a summer festival happens in spring.”
Right, that’s enough explaining to her. She’s already laughing at me, and though I want to stand here and laugh with her, let her make fun of me to her heart’s content, I don’t actually have time.
Dutch was already in here reminding me of my responsibilities and the last thing I need is him reminding me again. He takes entirely too much joy in acting like he knows more than me.
Arden, however, isn’t done yet. “You know, I can stay here. I don’t have to do everything you do.”
“No. You’re coming.”
Her frown deepens. “What, you don’t trust me to stay here on my own?”
No.
But that’s the wrong answer.
I move to her before I can stop myself, and finally–finally–let myself brush my fingertips over that sharp cheekbone. Down the hollowed-out cheek to her chin, where I tip her face up so she’s looking at me.
And fuck me, it would be easy to kiss her right now. Lean down, brush my lips against hers, and then wait to see whether she opened up to me.
The thought momentarily steals my breath, but then I remember what we’re talking about. “I trust you just fine,” I whisper. “But I don’t trust the men who kidnapped you. And now that you’re here, I’m not willing to lose you again.”
The line means more than I meant it to, and I freeze, staring at her and wondering if she heard it. Her pupils are blown out, her lips parted, and I know she did.
And that’s the most dangerous thing in the world.
I turn quickly, pulling my hands from her and forcing myself to remember my place. “Wear boots. There’re clouds out and this time of year makes for sudden storms. I don’t want you catching cold.”
Another line that says too much.
I shut my mouth firmly, tell myself to keep it closed, and stalk from the kitchen, reminding myself once again that she’s a girl who needs my help. My sister’s stepdaughter. My houseguest.
And nothing more.
The festival itself takes place in a field right outside of town, and I swear it gets more chaotic every year, like everyone in town is trying to outdo what someone else did last year, and succeeding.
We never get the same booths or contests two years in a row, because it wouldn’t be fair. If Penny handled the pie table every year, we’d all end up eating the same sorts of pies. So instead, we rotate, everyone finding out at the setup what we’ll be doing.
And while we’re here, we decorate.
I look across the field and take in all my friends as they scurry across the space like ants, if ants carried booths, ladders, stools, and toolboxes.
Dutch and Orion are working together to get part of the stage from one end of the field to the other, and Casino has made an appearance, his cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes as he sets up the poles that will hold the strings of lights.
Someone has put together a carousel this year, and I watch the putting it together, concerned.
That thing doesn’t look like it’ll support the smallest of the kids, much less the adults.
And there’s no way the adults will leave it alone once they start drinking.
I turn and look at the entryway and see Rookie and one of his friends painting the entryway–which is the worst job possible for him.
The kid is a genius with any set of tools I hand him, but he’s no artist.
I start walking that way, wondering who I need to talk to about putting him somewhere else, when a hand lands on my arm.
“What are you scowling about, cousin?”
I whirl, expecting Gunner, but it’s Bear, Gunner’s younger brother, and he’s grinning like he’s already had too much candy. I laugh and pull him into a hug, ecstatic to see the man so happy.
Four months ago he came home from the military, dishonorably discharged, and took on the town’s sheriff position.
It was a terrible match.
Barrett Hawke has never met a rule he didn’t want to break, and honestly I don’t know how it took him this long to get kicked out of the military. I also don’t know what Gunner was thinking trying to make him a fucking cop.
It ended as badly as we all expected, but now he’s working in Gunner’s furniture business and I’ve never seen him happier.
Or smiling.
I stand back and look at him, a grin covering my face. “I don’t know the last time I saw you looking so happy, Bear.”
He laughs, the joy practically dripping out of his pores. “Never,” he says simply. “I’ve never been this happy. But I guess the universe finally decided I’d paid my dues.”
“Speaking of, where are your dues?” I ask, looking past him. “I haven’t had to save Sammy in weeks.”
Sammy, Bear’s stepdaughter, is infamous for getting into trouble, and even more infamous for requiring a hero.
Her own dad has been out of the picture since before she was born, and I somehow became the de facto father figure.
She hasn’t called on me since Bear got home, though, and though I hate to admit it, I sort of miss the girl.
Bear gestures vaguely. “She and Cameron have some sort of art installation they’re doing. Honestly I’m trying not to get involved.”
I shout with laughter at that, and go my way. Bear, Sammy, and Cameron have built a family dynamic I never thought any of them would have, though it seems Bear is still establishing himself as the one who puts in the least possible effort.
I stop to let a group of children pass in front of me, then spot Arden in the distance.
She’s helping to hang a banner and it’s crooked as can be, but she’s laughing so hard she can barely stand up, and I don’t know if I have the heart to tell her there’s an easier way to hang it.
She’s got Penny on one side and Bruce on the other, the three of them looking like the Three Stooges as they try to get the thing hung up.
Arden’s on the ladder and it starts to wobble under her laughter, though, and I break into a run.
Before I can get there, a broad-shoulder guy steps in and steadies the thing, a smaller blond girl next to him, and I recognize Gabe and Taryn. Gabe is laughing at the fact that Arden has set the ladder up on a hill, and Taryn’s laughing with him.
Then she looks up at Arden and her face goes slack with shock.
“Arden?” she whispers.
Arden freezes, her hands still on the banner, and then turns slowly, her eyes dropping down to Taryn. She stares at her for several long seconds, the thoughts racing across her face, and then shrieks and jumps off the ladder.
She somehow lands right on Taryn and the two girls go rolling down the hill, laughing and shrieking in equal measure, their names exploding out of their mouths and excitement streaking the air like fireworks.
When they hit the bottom of the hill and come to a stop, they spring apart, then spring back together in a hug, and the words start.
They’re shouting questions and statements at each other, shrieking in excitement and jumping up and down, and then talking more, and somewhere in the midst of it all I realize that Taryn and Arden are evidently friends.
“Wait, you two know each other?” Gabe asks, taking the question right out of my mouth.
Arden has her arms wrapped so tightly around Taryn that the other girl can barely move, but she shoots Gabe a grin that shows every tooth in her mouth. “Arden is my best friend! She and I were having dinner together, or rather...”
“Not dinner,” Arden giggles. “More like midnight French fries.”
“And milkshakes!” Taryn adds.
“In a cafe near the college.”
“In the middle of the night.”
“Because we were scheming.”
The girls are finishing each other’s sentences now and my eyes bounce back and forth between them, trying to keep up. They were eating French fries in the middle of the night? Why?’
“Scheming about what?” I ask.
Arden’s face goes completely serious. “The jewelry heist. Obviously.”
Gabe and I both stare at them like they’ve lost their minds, and Taryn and Arden start laughing again, their giggles ringing through the silence as they start talking again. Gabe turns to me, his eyebrows lifted, and shakes his head as if to ask whether I can believe these two.
I can’t.
But I also can’t get over how happy Arden looks.
And if saying she was going to steal jewelry is responsible for that expression and the joy leaking out of her right now, I’ll let her believe it any day of the week. Hell, I’ll even add to the story, just to keep her laughing.
“So this is your mystery houseguest,” a voice says from my left.
I glance over to see that Gunner has appeared from somewhere, his beard shorter than it used to be and his hair looking like he actually put product in it.
Having Taryn around is good for my cousin, and I give myself a full second to appreciate that he, too, looks happy and fulfilled. Satisfied.
He looks at me with his eyes full of questions, and I shake my head firmly.
“Don’t.”
I don’t know what to think of Arden myself, and I sure as fuck don’t want to try to explain her to my cousin right now.
I’d rather watch her reuniting with her best friend and looking more at home in her skin than she has since we found her in that cottage.