I knew that and it only made my gratitude—and something else—swell in my chest.
Chapter Twelve
Eliana
Waking up in Sledge’s house was surreal. I’d spent most of my adult life caring for other people’s children sobeingin the house wasn’t out of the ordinary, but this was my first time living in-house. Usually I came, worked, and went back to my quiet little dorm or apartment with a cup of tea and a dissertation draft. The last time I woke up in the warmth of family and children’s laughter was when I lived at home.
Before Carlito died.
And then there was Sledge. Bossy. Handsome. Rugged. Gruff. I was entirely too aware of him as somethingotherthan my boss. Whether it was first thing in the morning or late at night, the scrape of his boots, that deep baritone bouncing off the walls, never failed to get my attention. It was ridiculous, really. He was my boss and I wasn’t exactly a schoolgirl with a crush, except I was.
Kind of.
He was my boss. He was a stubborn biker.
But he was also more than that and it was themorethat found its way under my skin.
He lived rent-free in my head for the past two days. I knew he was a hot single dad, I’d seen evidence of it with my own eyes, but that wasn’t the same asseeinghim first thing in the morning, rumpled and mussed from sleep with a sweetsmile for Zoya. And yeah, maybe it was that flash of skin when he accidentally stumbled into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of pin-striped boxer briefs that showed more of him than I was prepared to see.
The problem was, it was all of it. All the little details that made staying here just as dangerous asnotstaying here.
Instead I focused on Zoya. Today she was already awake when I entered the kitchen, hair sticking up adorably with Hoppy tucked under her arm. She smiled when she saw me, and I let that smile ground me in the moment. “Morning, Zoya,” I grinned back and ruffled her hair.
She smiled through breakfast and after we dressed for the day, it was time to make a plan. “It’s nice out today, maybe we should do something outside?”
I wished we could go to the park or do something fun, but we still didn’t know who had been watching her and me. So for the time being it was the backyard.
Zoya nodded.
I nodded too. “Okay, I’m going to use colored pencils today. What do you want?”
She jogged off and returned a few moments later with a few pieces of charcoal.
My eyes widened. “Oh wow, that’s real artist stuff right there. Let’s get our art supplies. I’ll grab drinks and you get a blanket, yeah?”
Zoya opened her mouth and disappointment flashed in her eyes before she nodded and walked away with a lot less energy in her steps. I wish I knew what she wanted to say.
My heart hurt for her. She wanted to speak but she just wasn’t ready. Not yet.Soon, I promised myself.
We made ourselves comfortable in Sledge’s small backyard. I kept my eyes on her drawings while I drew simple things, flowers, spirals, trees, and gemstones. I kept myself just distracted enough not to hover, but I couldn’t help but stare.
She was drawinghimagain. The smoky figure was back. He or she had appeared in at least six of her drawings this week, always gray or black, and getting bigger with each drawing. The shape was always in the distance from wherever she and Trish were, which I knew was important, but I didn’t know enough yet.
Sledge had mentioned that as far as he knew, there wasn’t a specific incident that caused Zoya to lose her speech, but I wasn’t so sure.
“Did you used to live someplace where it rained a lot?” I asked casually.
She looked up at me and then back to her drawing and shook her head.
“I thought maybe you lived in London,” I said in a terrible English accent. “Or maybe Seattle.”
Zoya shook her head again, her braids slapping against her sides.
“Okay, so maybe it’s just a gray cloud, like sadness?”
She shrugged but it was just enough to confirm my suspicions. The cloud was a person.
“Hey, I get it better than you think. You don’t have to talk until you’re ready but I’m gonna ask questions because I’m nosy like that and I just want to help.”
