I don’t know why I thought she would. I was adopted twice before Gavin and Frances rescued me and both times those so-called parents returned me to the Home then drove off without looking back. No one every looks back for me.
I don’t know why that memory pops into my head, but I hate it. I don’t need anyone, especially Melody, to look back for me. I don’t need pity.
I can’t believe I’m still standing here like a sad, lonely pecker. I quickly stride across the floor, brushing past Melody like I didn’t give her a second thought.
The drive back to my ranch passes painfully. I’m irritated, hard as hell, and tired.
My brother Kurt is there when I arrive to pack the things I’ll need to stay at Marshall’s. He’d promised to keep an eye on things here while I’m busy playing house.
He grins as soon as I step out of the truck.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be trapped with Melody.”
“I didn’t know she was part of the situation,” I say, mad at myself for letting that woman have so much of my mental space. I slam the truck door and head up the stairs to my porch.
With Gavin and all my brothers helping, I built every square foot of this place. The three-bedroom log cabin is a far cry from the tiny, windowless room I was kept in at the home.
I made sure my house was filled with sunlight. My brothers got together and built a room on the back that has floor to ceiling glass. I can see out but no one can see in.
Kurt follows me inside and heads straight to the kitchen for a beer. “I’d help you pack, but I don’t want to. I’d feel guilty. Like I had a part in sending you into the lion’s den.”
“I can handle Melody,” I tell him ignoring the misgivings telling me no the fuck I can’t. I don’t know why a ball of trepidation is sitting in the pit of my stomach. Nothing’s at stake here. There’s no emotional risk for her or me. I can’t touch her heart and she can’t touch mine.
Unfortunately, I do want those beautiful curves. I want them under me. I want them over me. I want to bite and lick and taste.
And despite the way she talks, I can tell the way she looks at me that she wants me, too. And that is problem number three.
Chapter 3
Melody
Jonas had said earlier that we’d get dinner ready before his mom drops off the kids. Well, he’s in for a surprise.
I’m the lesser member of my smart, talented family or so I’ve been told. I’m always in the way. “Please Melody, go somewhere and keep quiet” is something I often heard.
Though I know they love me, I’m the family embarrassment. So, I learned to do my own thing my own way. Live my life in my world and not in theirs.
In my world, I’m not savvy in the kitchen. I can screw up a can of ready-made soup. A bag of quick rice doesn’t stand a chance of survival. I can even fuck up a microwave meal.
Cooking is definitely not the kind of stuff I’m good at. What I am good at are cars. Muscle cars with big blocks never cease to thrill me. I love the sound of that power rumbling as they growl. I love everything about engines, and I can make a misfiring engine purr like a cat.
Being good at these things always made my folks stare at me like I’d dropped out of a spaceship.
My mother is like a hothouse orchid. She needs that controlled living, that perfect environment to thrive. My sisters are carbon copies of her. Right down to hair styles, makeup and how they dress.
I remember one evening running through the front door of our house while wearing grease-stained overalls and my face streaked with grease. I’d forgotten what day it was and barged into the living room full of important guests.
My sisters were in evening gowns. My father in his expensive suit. My mother was in shock. Yeah, I never fit in among the CEOs and judges and lawyers that make up my family.
That’s why I’m thankful I met Raven and we became the best of friends. She’s more of a family to me than my own.
I park my old Mustang I’m still working to restore in the driveway at Raven’s house and work up the nerve to get out. After all these years of trying to avoid Jonas, I’ll admit it’s going to be weird living with him for a week.
I open the trunk of my car to get my suitcase. Before I can grab the handle, Jonas is beside me hauling it out easily like it’s empty instead of packed full. His muscles bunch and for fuck’s sake why is he shirtless?
“Are you so eager to see me that you didn’t finish dressing?” I ask to cover how flustered I’m feeling.
“I was in the middle of changing when I glanced through the window and saw you pull up.” His lips do that one-sided half smile he does when he’s about to say something to drive me bat shit crazy.
