23. Chapter 23
23
Brody
I don’t like that Natalie turned down my offer. I just met her, but Sophie cares about her, so I care about her. I don’t like that she can’t lock her front door, even if it’s just overnight, but she wouldn’t be swayed.
I carry Sophie’s bag into the house. It feels so bizarre to think about the fact that, just a couple hours ago, Sophie and I were right here in the kitchen, having two more firsts together. I suppose we’re about to have another one since she agreed to spend at least one night with me, though I’d prefer it to be under different circumstances.
Setting the bag by the counter, I turn to see Sophie looking around the house as if she’s seeing the mostly bare walls for the first time.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m ok.” Her eyes drift to me, but they don’t seem to focus.
I close the distance between us slowly, allowing Sophie the chance to step away or stop me. She does neither, instead allowing me to come within inches of her. It forces her to crane her neck to meet my gaze. I reach up to run my fingers through her hair, combing it back and off of her neck. Sophie leans into my touch, closing her eyes and breathing deep as she fits her cheek into my palm.
“I’m ok,” she repeats, sounding more like she’s trying to convince herself than me.
“Natalie didn’t seem that worried.” I tread carefully, not wanting to sound accusatory. “Is there something I should know before I look a little deeper? ”
Sophie’s eyes snap open and I can see the answer there. Yes, there’s more, but she doesn’t know if she can trust me.
“Brody, I’m just scared,” she whispers.
Fuck, are those tears? Her brown eyes swim with them, but she clearly doesn’t want them to spill over. I lean down to kiss her.
“Hey,” I whisper against her lips, “it’s ok. You don’t have to say or do anything you don’t want to.” I pull back again. “I just want you safe.”
Sophie sighs, closing her eyes again before turning away from me and out of my grasp. She rubs her hands over her sides, up and down her hips, and then spins to face me again.
“I don’t-” She groans and shakes her head. “I don’t talk about my ex a lot.” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “I don’t know if it’s him,” she says hastily when she notices my frown. “But it- Well, it didn’t end well with him. I think maybe he’s trying to, I don’t know, get me back? Scare me?”
She groans again and turns her back, running her hands through her soft curls. I don’t move to close the distance between us. I don’t want to crowd her. My blood boils at the thought of someone–anyone–scaring her. What if he’s done worse in the past? Did she end it or did he? These questions and a million more fly through my head, but I won’t ask them. She let me reveal my secret when I was ready. I will to provide her with the same safe space.
“Sophie, it’s going to be ok. Let’s get ready for bed. Maybe put on a Disney movie or something to lighten the mood.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Her voice breaks on the last word.
I make an excuse not to immediately join Sophie in bed, saying I want to do some digging into the doorbell cam before a potential trail goes cold. After watching her snuggle beneath my blankets, I shut the door and head into my office. It only takes a few minutes to get into the system that I know will give me a backdoor into Sophie and Natalie’s doorbell cam. It’s not the kind of software everyone has access to. I wrote it specifically for Harp Solutions. If it wasn’t a matter of safety, I wouldn’t be using it outside of work.
Something’s wrong. Something’s off. There’s activity here that shouldn’t be there. Someone–and I’d bet my entire bank account that it wasn’t the girls–has been logging in and removing footage, altering the notification settings and then returning them to the way they were before. But the changes and alterations are happening within minutes of each other. If it is Sophie’s ex, he’s got help.
Taking a deep breath, I set about putting in some safety measures. Silent notifications to my phone, a way for me to view any and all footage because I’ll get sent backups every thirty seconds. Everything I can think of to give the girls the upper hand, I do. It won’t be enough, of course. If Sophie has a crazy ex-boyfriend out there trying to scare her, I worry he won’t stop until he does something truly drastic.
When I go back to my bedroom, Sophie is lying on her side, facing the door. Her hair is splayed out on the pillow behind her. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is steady. I lean against the doorway, watching her. There’s an angel sleeping between my sheets and I can’t wait to join her.
“That was Nat.” Sophie holds up her phone as she walks back into my bedroom, still wearing her cotton pajama shorts and tank top. We’ve spent the last hour in my bed, relaxing, talking, just being with each other. “The lock is fixed.”
“Good.” I follow her movements with my eyes, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet as she approaches. Her hips sway softly with each step. “But I hope you don’t think you need to leave right this second.”
Sophie giggles and kneels on the bed before crawling to me. She places one arm on my other side so that she’s hovering over my torso and slowly lowers her lips to mine. Her nipples brush my bare chest.
“You think I’m gonna run away before I turn into a pumpkin?” she murmurs against my mouth.
I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her down, forcing her breasts up as they squish against me. With a grin, I nuzzle my nose against hers.
“It’s ten in the morning.”
“And I’m not Cinderella.”
“Can I still be Prince Charming?”
She pulls back and giggles.
“That was cheesy. You gotta work on that. ”
“I’ll have my roommate teach me some new jokes.”
Just as I lift my head to kiss her, my phone rings. I close my eyes and groan, barely an inch from her lips. I recognize the ringtone.
“Do you have to get that?” Sophie whines.
“It’s my sister.” While Sophie shifts and lies next to me, I reach for the phone on my bedside table. “Hey, Raegan, everything ok?”
“Everything’s fine.” She laughs into the receiver. “Why do you think something’s wrong every time I call?”
“Because something usually is,” I grumble. “Or you need something.”
“Good to talk to you too. I do need something.” At least she’s upfront about it. “Brett and I are at an event up in Ojai. The girls are at a birthday party and Isla was supposed to pick them up, but she had to pick up a last minute-shift at work.”
“So you need Uncle Brody to come to the rescue,” I surmise with a nod.
“And maybe hang out until we get home?” I can hear the wince in her voice. “Shouldn’t be any later than three.”
“Wait, who has a birthday party on a Saturday morning? Why not the afternoon?”
“Echo Park parents, apparently,” Raegan grumbles.
“Doesn’t that include you?”
“Can you help or do I need to call our sitter? I’m not even sure she’s in town this weekend.”
“No, I’ll-” I look over at Sophie who has been pretending not to listen. “I’ll take care of it. Just send me the address for the party.”
“Thanks. I owe you one. Maybe I can get you a deal on plane tickets for your next trip. Do you have something planned?”
“Not yet. Leave the girls to me.”
“Bye, B.”
“Toodles.”
“Did you really just say toodles?” asks Sophie with a snort when I hang up the phone.
“Someone likes to eavesdrop.” I raise an eyebrow, but smile. I set the phone back on the table before rolling back over so we’re facing each other. “I have to pick up my nieces from a party in a little bit.”
“Oh.” Her face falls. “I’ll get dressed and-”
“You could come with me.” I have no idea where that offer came from, but I’m going to double down. Sophie’s eyes widen, her eyebrows raising. Her lips part in surprise .
“I-I-I could?”
“Yeah, I mean if that’s ok. I don’t know how you feel about kids, but-”
“I like kids,” she says quickly but still looks uncertain.
“Then it’s settled.” I take her hand and kiss her knuckles, then drop our hands between us. “Got something appropriate you can wear?” I tease.
“Is a sundress ok?” She rolls her eyes.
“Depends on how short it is. And how badly it makes me want to,” I pull her closer by the waist, “bend you over,” I bring my mouth to hers, “and slide inside your tight,” my hand drifts down her side and across her body, “wet,” I urge her with my hand to lift her leg so I can slide my hand between her thighs, “pussy.”
Car seats loaded into the back seat, Sophie and I leave just before noon to go pick up my nieces from the party. It’s down south in Echo Park and we arrive just in time for the party to end.
“You wanna come in with me?” I ask Sophie after I park along the residential street. “You don’t have to. I think it’ll be kind of crazy in there.”
“I’ll come in.” She smiles and slides out of the car to follow me up the sidewalk.
I glance back at her, the sidewalk too narrow to comfortably walk side by side. That damn sundress swishes around her legs in the light breeze while she walks, but I’m glad to see it falls to her knees. Not that she should care what other people think, but I don’t want to traumatize a bunch of elementary school kids.
“Oh, I should warn you,” I say as we turn to walk up the driveway. “Violet has a speech impediment. She says her k’s and similar sounds like t’s or d’s. Uncle is Untle, cold is told, things like that. If you don’t understand something, just look at me.”
Sophie nods with a grin.
“That’s adorable.”
Raegan told me it was ok to just walk into the house, that she had let the parents know I was picking up the girls instead of Isla. When I place my hand on the doorknob and swing it open, pure chaos overwhelms my senses. Streamers hang from just about every door frame and every foot or so along the ceiling of the living room, kitchen, and entryway. Excited screams fill the air, undercut by the heavy thuds of footsteps as children run around, chasing each other.
“Sounds like they’ve already had cake,” I chuckle while Sophie closes the door behind us.
A few parents are visible in the living room, watching the horror unfold. They look unfazed by it all.
“Can I help you?” one of the women asks, stepping forward when she notices our entrance. She looks about my age, maybe a few years older. Her short black hair is perfectly parted on the side and her rosy lipstick is immaculate.
“I’m Brody.” I hold out my hand. “Opal and Violet’s uncle.”
“Oh!” Realization changes the woman’s previously cold features. She shakes my hand with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, yes. She said you’d be coming by for the girls. Something about your sister having a last minute work thing.”
“Yeah, she couldn’t turn it down. Her manager is kind of a d- jerk.” I have to watch my language around other kids. Opal and Violet have heard every curse and naughty word under the sun, even if they don’t know what they mean. I can’t say the same for every kid at the party.
“Well, if you can stop them, you can take them,” the woman laughs as Opal speeds past us, following one of the little boys with light-up sneakers.
“Oy!” I shout, holding my hand to the side of my mouth. Opal freezes and turns to face me with a grin. “No love for me?”
“Uncle B!” she squeals and runs at me with open arms.
Despite the chocolate cake on her shirt, I crouch and hold my arms out just in time for her to run into them.
“I missed you, bug.”
Her arms are skinny, but still strong enough to strangle me. When she finally lets go and backs away, her eyes fall on Sophie.
“Who’s that?” She points blatantly at the woman behind me.
“Opal, this is Sophie. Sophie, this is my niece, Opal.”
Sophie holds out a hand, a warm smile on her lips.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Opal.”
“You’re pretty.” Opal’s back straightens while she shakes Sophie’s hand. The little adult.
“Thank you, so are you. ”
“Where’s your sister?” I ask, standing up to search the room and the part of the kitchen visible.
“Iuuh.” Opal’s version of ‘I don’t know’. It’s the most noncommittal sound someone can make and she does so with a shrug.
“Fat load of help you are, kid,” I mutter. Lifting my hand to the side of my mouth again, I shout. “Violet Kincaid, time to go beanie weenie!”
Violet appears, popping out from behind the wall separating the living room from the kitchen. There’s chocolate cake smeared on her cheek and she’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Untle B!” Her squeal is identical to her sister’s.
“‘ey!” I hold out my arms but don’t crouch. Instead, when Violet reaches me, my hands slip beneath her armpits and I pick her up with ease, swinging her legs up and back before bringing her in so she can wrap her legs partially around me. “Beans, this is Sophie.” Violet is already eyeing Sophie with suspicion.
“Is she your dirlfriend?”
“You bet your skinny little butt, she is.” I wink as Sophie smiles in response, not a hint of doubt in her eyes.
“Momma says you shouldn’t say butt,” Violet giggles.
“Yeah, it’s a bad word,” Opal agrees.
I roll my eyes.
“Well, Momma’s not here and snitches get stitches.” I grab Opal’s hand, still holding Violet in my other arm since she weighs barely thirty pounds. I’m not even sure she weighs that much. The girl is tiny for her age. “You ready to go?”
“Yep!”
“Oh, the goody bags are by the door,” shouts the mother of the birthday kid as we head for the exit.
“Thanks!” I call over my shoulder, grabbing two little paper bags from the table by the door.
Sophie follows us and I can feel her eyes on me. Opal glances back every now and then but doesn’t say anything.
“Can Sophie help you with your car seat?” I ask Opal as I set Violet in her seat. She nods. “You rock.”
“Do I rot, Untle B?” asks Violet, staring up at me. Sophie buckles Opal in on the other side of the car.
“You certainly do, beans. ”
Despite the massive sugar overload, the girls are pleasant, if talkative, on the way back to their house. Raegan and Brett are renting a home in the southernmost part of Echo Park, just a short drive from the house where the party was held. Brett’s company has given them a potential date to move overseas. I’ll miss the girls like crazy, but such is the nature of my brother-in-law’s job.
“Ok, girls, what does Momma usually do for lunch?” I ask as I press my unique code into the keypad on the door. Brett Kincaid is all about the technology. I think they chose this home specifically for this and some of the other tech features. He’s a smart guy, but I wouldn’t have any of this stuff in my home.
“She lets us eat pizza!” shouts Opal, running inside ahead of me.
“No, she doesn’t.” Violet frowns, following after her sister at a much slower pace. Opal’s stern look–far more impressive given that she’s only six–causes her to change her tune. “I mean, yeah. We eat pizza every day.”
“Nice try, goobers.” I chuckle and close the door behind Sophie. “How about mac n’ cheese? Got any boxes?” I glance at Sophie. “You ok with that?” She grins.
“I love mac n’ cheese.”
“Yay, mat and cheeeeeese!” Violet yells, jumping up and down.
“Do you like pizza?” asks Opal. She comes to a stop by the couch before jumping onto it.
“ Love pizza,” Sophie replies, rolling her eyes backward just a little for emphasis.
“What’s your favorite food?” asks Violet, grabbing Sophie’s hand and dragging her toward the kitchen.
“Hmm, maybe chocolate cake.” She reaches out to take a paper towel from the holder on the counter behind Violet. Then she wets it in the sink and gently wipes some of the cake residue from Violet’s face. “Looks like it might be one of your favorites too.”
“I lite strawberry better.”
“Oh, strawberry’s a good one too.”
“ I don’t like cake. I like ice cream.” Opal pops up from the couch, resting her arms on the back. She’s tall for her age and even though I can’t see, I have a feeling she’s probably only kneeling.
“The chocolate on your shirt would say otherwise.” I nod at the bit of chocolate that clearly isn’t ice cream. It’s a small amount and I’m surprised there isn’t more.
“Well, sometimes I like cake. ”
“There we go. Now, you guys grab two boxes of mac while Sophie and I start the water.”
Opal and Violet race to the walk-in pantry, their sneakers squeaking on the hardwood floor. Opal is first, swinging the door open wide. I hear things falling, bags of some kind, and a box or two before she and her sister reappear holding two boxes of the organic stuff my sister buys. I grimace at Sophie who has to hide a smile.
Plating up the pasta, along with some cut up vegetables, Sophie and I take seats with the girls at the kitchen table. While they eat, I can see that both pairs of eyelids are beginning to droop. The sugar is wearing off. Maybe that’s the reason for the morning party–afternoon naps. I’ve got to hand it to those parents. That’s kind of genius. I’ll have to remember that for… Sophie said she likes kids, but I have no idea if she wants any of her own.
It’s still way too early for that line of thinking.
After about three bites of mac and two pieces of bell pepper, Violet begins to push the food around on her plate. Her head is leaning on her hand, elbow resting on the table.
“You not hungry?” I ask. She shakes her head slowly. “Must’ve been all that cake.”
“Can we play a game?” Opal has already had seconds and cleaned her plate of both helpings.
“Take your dishes to the kitchen.” I stand to grab mine and Sophie’s empty plates, leading the way to the sink. “Then we can play. As long as you don’t fall asleep on me.”
The girls grab their plates and practically run to the kitchen, shouting a string of games like tag, hide and seek, red light, green light, and some I’ve never heard of. The last one is the one that catches though.
“Let’s play Simon Says!” Opal squeals as she sets her plate on the counter by the sink.
“That sound good to you?” I ask Sophie.
“Yep. Who’s gonna be Simon?”
“Me,” says Opal confidently.
“You’re always Simon,” Violet whines.
“Well,” Sophie says, crouching down next to Violet as Opal runs to stand behind the couch, “I think you can beat me and your Uncle B, so you’ll probably be Simon next.”
Violet’s eyes shine, her mouth spreading into a wide grin as she looks at Sophie.
“You thint I tan win?” she asks.
“You betcha. I’m terrible at this game.”
Opal calls us all to attention, her commanding tone verging on bossy. Sophie and I stand in a line on either side of Violet and I give Opal a wink .
“Ok, Simon says…” she pauses, thinking for a minute. “Touch your nose.”
All three of us act.
“Touch your eye.”
None of us move. Opal rolls her eyes.
“Simon says hop on one foot.”
All three of us begin to hop. Violet is having trouble, but when Opal opens her mouth to mention it, I shake my head just enough for her to see. Glancing between me and Violet, she thinks better of punishing her sister.
“Stop jumping.”
Sophie stops and then slaps her forehead.
“Oh, man.” She looks at Violet. “You beat me.”
Violet grins, still hopping.
“Simon says stop jumping.”
Sophie sits at the kitchen table, turning toward us so she can watch.
“Simon says put your hand on your head.”
I take the hand touching my nose and place it on my head.
“Ah!” Opal points at me. “I didn’t say to stop touching your nose!”
“Guess you win, beans.” I groan and look down at Violet who is positively beaming.
“So I det to be Simon?” she asks excitedly.
“You do,” says Sophie.