Chapter 25 #2
Phillip is begging me to reconsider starting the harvest festival again, which my family used to put on every October in the field near the shop. Well, every October until my dad’s arrest. I wanted to cancel it that year, but everyone pleaded with me not to.
I wasn’t in the right headspace to host an event that used to be so joyous for my family, but I let it slide.
Fair rides were set up, and our usual vendors and bands lined up to sell local products and play on the stage we’d had built the week before.
The harvest festival went smoothly—that is, until a group of teenagers dressed up for the costume contest and a girl who went to Cedar Creek High with Cameron and Brennan showed up as the ghost of Jane Lindenvale in a white gown with blood coating the abdominal area and a shard of glass protruding from her stomach.
We couldn’t continue the tradition after that.
Fuck. I can’t deal with this email right now.
He knows what my answer is year after fucking year, and yet he continues to ask me.
After shutting off my computer and office lights, I head to my truck and make the minute drive home, trying to brighten my mood like I do every day before I step into the house.
It’s Jess’s last night home, and I don’t want my sour mood to rub off on everyone. It does that too often, which is why I stayed at the office a little longer and skipped dinner. When I get home, I’ll toss what they left me in the microwave.
When I step over the threshold, the last thing I expect is to see everyone, and I mean everyone, hanging out in the living room. The twins, Jess, and Elena, are in an epic battle of Monopoly, their loud, happy voices softening my temperament.
Scanning the room, I locate Tristan. His body is huddled up against…
Jesus Christ.
Taryn has her legs crossed on the couch in black yoga pants that cling to her curves, her blush pink tank top exposing the delicate swell of her breasts. She has his Switch in her hands, her fingers scurrying across the buttons as her features brighten at whatever’s on her screen.
Tristan’s body jolts in surprise. “Yes! You got the Scooby Snack without getting caught,” he smiles.
Oh, goddamn.
I haven’t seen Tristan smile like that in forever. And she made him grin like that. He never lets anyone touch his Switch. Cameron tried to play it once, and then Tristan didn’t say anything to us for a week. Ignored us completely.
“I knew you’d like it,” Taryn singsongs. “I told you this game was awesome!”
His head rests on her shoulder, his dark blond hair flopping onto his forehead. “I don’t think I’ll be as good as you, though,” he responds, pointing to something on the screen.
“It’s good that you have a few weeks till school starts. I’ll teach you all the tricks before you go back—”
Her soft brown eyes magnetize to mine, her mouth snapping shut when she notices my presence. My body hums in response to her attention on me, but my focus on Taryn tenses her muscles. I love that her body reacts to me in such drastic ways.
Cameron sees her staring at me and stands. “Oh great, you’re here. Jess doesn’t want to wait anymore to hear about her congrats-you’re-headed-off-to-college gift.”
A corner of my mouth tilts, but my eyes are still glued to Taryn’s.
I rip them away, clearing my throat. It’s still been fucking awkward since we established she’s only here for Elena and Tristan.
Which she is. I’m not arguing that, but we are about to be alone with just the kids for a few days when the twins take Jess to school. I’m unsure of how to talk to her.
I nod. “All right, I’ll be right back.”
Heading to the kitchen, I set my keys on the counter and open a drawer to pull out the white envelope. When I return to the living room, I hand it to Jess. Her eyes beam and flit around the room, taking us in while our attention is on her.
She slides her nail under the flap, tearing it open to remove the folded piece of paper bursting with color from nearly every color crayon existing in this house.
Elena worked hard on it. She tackled this project like she usually does with all her creations—her eyes locked on the paper, her crayons scribbling across while her tongue rested on the inside of her cheek.
She has so much focus and hates being distracted when she’s creating things.
Maybe she will grow up to be a painter like Cameron one day. But hopefully, she will share her talent with the world and not just display it on the walls of our home. He has seemed relatively close to Taryn these past few days.
I wonder if he has shown her his studio yet.
An unexpected flush of jealousy runs down the ridges of my spine.
Jess opens it up, smiling at the picture of a stick figure, Jessica, in a triangular dress, standing next to a red car resembling an oval with four circular tires.
Elena’s five. To her, this is a masterpiece.
I think so, too.
“Do you like it?” Elena squeals, jumping to her feet from sitting on the floor by the coffee table where their Monopoly game is sprawled out.
“I love it! Thank you,” Jess says, wrapping her arms around her petite frame and peppering her face with dainty kisses. Jess glances between Cam, Bren, and I, cocking a brow. “So, what’s my gift?” She chuckles.
Cameron stuffs his hands into his pockets next to me. “When you, Bren, and I get to Seattle tomorrow, we’re going car shopping.”
Jessica flies off the couch in a flash, tossing her arms around Cameron and me, pulling us closer. I place a hand on her back, savoring the moment. Come tomorrow, there will be a Jessica-sized hole in our lives.
At least until Thanksgiving, anyway.
She runs over to Bren, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek that rings through the room. “Thank you!”
“Ugh,” he lifts his sleeve to his face, wiping it off. “Could’ve used less tongue.”
Joyful laughter fills the room, but the one that has my skin buzzing and echoing in my ears is Taryn’s. She’s observing us as if she’s watching a movie, her eyes flashing with a warmth that flows through my body to my hands.
I lower myself to the floor next to Elena. She takes my proximity as an invitation to sit on my lap.
“You guys have room for another player?” I ask.
Brennan grabs his car game piece and throws it at Cam, hitting him in the arm. “Cameron’s the banker and somehow seems to have more money every time I glance at his side.” He crosses his arms. “I think we should restart anyway.”
Cameron reaches out a hand, sweeping the board clean with a middle finger out, right in Brennan’s line of sight.
Elena leans back against me, fanning her money. “Colt, will you be on my team?”
I lower my head, pressing my lips to her hair. “Sure thing, baby girl.”
She lobs her money, the colored paper floating to the board. “They beat my ass.”
My body goes still.
More accurately, everything in the damn room goes still.
The only sound penetrating the void is Taryn’s little gasp of air. She shifts on the couch, her gaze falling to the Switch in her hands, avoiding my gaze.
Interesting.
“Elena, you are not allowed to say that word,” Brennan scolds.
She moves uncomfortably in my lap, her little pink lips pouting. “I heard it yesterday when we were at The Honey Hut,” she whines.
I arch a brow. “Who said that?”
She cowers in my hold, her little finger pointing at the one person who instantly gave themselves away the second that word left Elena’s mouth.
Little Ghost.
Pressing my lips in a line, I hold Taryn’s wide eyes and flummoxed expression.
Goddammit, I am trying so hard not to smile.
Work was frustrating today. I expected to come home, eat dinner, and retire to my cabin early like usual. But something feels different. Tristan said more than five words, the vibrancy in his face like a punch to the gut because it’s been so long since I’ve seen it.
Little Ghost may be teaching my little sister profanity, but for the first time in a long time, this house has felt lighter.
The laughter and smiles are livelier.
And I can’t help but think she may be the reason for it.