With Elena and Tristan, I’ve dipped the tip of my finger into what fatherhood is like.
Elena was a newborn when Mom disappeared. But sometimes, it’s hard to shake the feeling that I’ve failed with Tristan. When Christian, my father, was arrested, Tristan was barely two. He doesn’t remember anything; if he does, he keeps quiet, keeping the memories of that horrific night in his head.
The mistakes I’ve made with them—my family—over the years are immeasurable, but I have matured enough to comprehend them. I have matured to understand that those moments are a blip in time, and I hold the power to decide what kind of man I am after my faults. Am I the man who lets his errors devour him or the one who stares straight ahead, using those mistakes as a guideline for things I never want to revisit?
Five years ago, I looked forward to becoming a father—seeing a new generation of little Lindenvales love this property as much as I do. It’s amusing how fast directions can change.
Cameron, Brennan, and I were thrown into the father role because my narcissistic father let himself go and let his obsession control him. We were three young men—the twins, nineteen, and me, twenty-two—who were irresponsible one day with only the worries of working and sleeping around withwhatever piece of ass we could find. Then, instantly, it was diapers, learning how to bottle-feed, and balancing accounts. We got the weight of a multimillion-dollar company dropped on our shoulders, all the while trying not to fuck up our family further.
Tristan doesn’t talk very much. He goes to school and comes home either to dive into schoolwork or play video games. I was against getting him a Switch at first, but this kid has been through so much that I hate saying no to him if it’s the one thing he finds joy in.
Taryn crosses her arms. “I also want to see my dog.”
Elena jumps up and down. “I want to see the dog too!” Her lips pout. “Colt hasn’t let me see it yet.”
Tristan’s head whips up at the mention of Rossco.
At first, I was worried about having that dog around Elena and Tristan, but he follows me when I work outside, tending to the plots and trees. Or he curls up by my desk at the shop and keeps me company. I had a staff meeting with all our workers yesterday, and he lounged by me the entire time. The whirr of the chainsaw doesn’t seem to bother him, either.
I’ve grown to like him.
“Fine,” I stand up, running a hand over my white shirt with our logo in the corner. “I have work to get back to.” I keep my gaze locked on Taryn, but my tone is directed at my brothers. “Jess can keep an eye on her today. You two have shit to get done. Meet me at the shop in half an hour.”
The twins nod and rise to their feet.
Walking past Taryn on my way to the door, I withhold my smile as her breath hitches in response to the slightest brush of my shoulder. I enjoy knowing I can paralyze her in place. Imagine the influence I’d have if her entire body were at my mercy. Taryn’s sugared citrus scent wraps around melike a cloak, and already, I know that smell is going to be the distraction I don’t need today.
Stepping into the fresh air, I regret telling her she could see Rossco. He’s easy company. It’s not hard to understand why she loves that damn dog so much. His presence makes work more bearable when he’s around.
And as much as I despise admitting it, over the last several days, I’ve looked forward to the end of the day. And I refuse to believe it’s because of the pretty face that stares out the window every night in the tower, seeking me out.
SEVENTEEN | TARYN
“He’s fast,” Elena yells, her chuckling bright and happy like the warm late summer breeze gliding against my skin.
She throws the ball again for the millionth time, utterly unfazed by the slobber coating her hand. The ball rolls across the front yard, stopping just before the gradual decline of the hill. She sprints, her pink sneakers leaving footprints in the damp grass. She runs to catch up to Rossco, both of them content and breathing hard.
Tristan sits nearby, picking at blades of grass, and adding them on top of the pile he’s created. He doesn’t like being told he needs to spend some time outside without the Switch. That order came from Cameron before he went to the shop, not me.
Despite being forced to be their nanny, I don’t feel it’s my place to order them around yet. I’m still completely uncomfortable with all this, but Elena eases some of the angst. Is it acceptable to be jealous of a five-year-old with a stunning smile and natural curls?
I know the Lindenvales are millionaires, but the thought that I’m making triple a teacher’s salary to sit here on my ass andwatch two young kids churns my stomach into knots. Already, it’s easier than the thirty children I had in my classroom last year. But Elena and Tristan’s three brothers seem to make up for the twenty-eight kids I don’t have.
God. I shouldn’t be okay with this.
I shouldn’t be here complying with their rules when they’ve put me through hell. The sad part? Colten was right; there’s probably nobody looking for me, and it’s not like I have anywhere to go or a job to get back to. The tower is ten times nicer than that house I’m renting, and I’ve come to appreciate it now that I’m allowed to be out of it.
“If I would’ve known a dog would tire her out like this, I would have begged my brothers to get one a year ago.” Jess laughs on one of the outside patio chairs beside me under the porch.
I adjust my black baseball cap and brush back some sweaty strands of hair sticking to my forehead. We are in the shade, and it is still scorching out here. I place it back on and lounge back, glancing up at the cloudless sky. It’s a beautiful day, a blue blanket covering the orchard that spans a mile in front of us.
Thankfully, the fresh air in my lungs calms my head and brings some clarity. Now that I can focus on my surroundings better, I can see the distinct plots of trees. A cloud of dust disperses into the air in the distance, probably from machinery or a vehicle on the gravel road.
It’s peaceful out here, surrounded by hanging plants under the porch. I was tempted to bring the book I’ve been reading outside, but I thought it might be rude to ignore Jess.
Thousands of questions are swarming in my head, and she’s more likely to answer them than the twins.
I faintly smile. “Yeah, Rossco has a way of tiring me out too. Outside, at least. Inside, he couldn’t be lazier.”
