The babbling creek below drifts through the trees, complementing the birds chirping in the lush canopy above. The warm breeze whips past me, brushing a lock of hair across my mouth. The strands cling to my lips, and I swipe them out of the way, smiling in contentment. The fresh air is sweet. Revitalizing.
It’s hard to believe that Elena and Tristan start school on Monday. Still, I’m grateful the guys decided we needed a fun Saturday activity to say farewell to summer before the kids return to their usual schedules and activities.
The guys have been occupied nonstop, preparing for the early and mid-harvest season. From what they’ve told me, that means primarily focusing on the plots producing the Gala, Honeycrisp, and Empire apples.
The last two weeks, we only converse in the evenings when they return from work since they are always up and out the door before the kids and I wake up. It’s more frustrating than it should be since I was brought here specifically to be a nanny for Elena and Tristan.
But I understand why the guys did it now. The reason why they took such drastic measures to ensure I didn’t leave them.
Tristan opened up to me one day while I was helping them write and draw pictures for their dad. Christian Lindenvale, the man behind bars, consistently writes to the two of them without missing a week.
Actually, I’ve learned their father writes letters to all six of them, though only five are delivered to the house now. Since Jessica’s letters are always missing, I assume he’s sending them to campus.
Tristan told me they always write back to him, except for Colten. Doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.
What does he do with all those letters?
Does he open them and examine the words he wished would’ve never come in the first place, or does he stash them in the back of a drawer or on a shelf collecting dust?
There’s something there. A secret Colten hides in the depths, out of reach. He hasn’t said anything, but I feel it when I’m around him.
When Iwasaround him.
He’s been avoiding me since the night I told him I like being here.
The topic of their mom, however, is brutal. Despite a body never being found, Elena knows she’s gone. Colten told her she’s never coming back, and she’s learned to accept it. That doesn’t stop Elena from talking about her, even though she doesn’t remember her mother. She imagines the idea of her. Putting pieces together based on the stories her siblings have told her.
But the moment Elena accidentally called memom, my heart broke for her. The worst part? It happened at the dinner table. All eyes from her brothers held her in place while her glassy ones were hooked on me. It was an accident. I know that. But the world stopped momentarily, the slipped word causing theboys’ breath to get trapped in their lungs. Their chests were unnaturally still.
Elena apologized shakily, and I soothed the anxiety that flowed out of her afterward. The twins couldn’t stop staring at me, and Colten…was Colten.
He ate a few more bites of food, his posture rigid and face brooding, then tossed his plate into the sink and left the room.
That was the last time I saw him that night. Besides a few words here and there, our interactions have been minimal. The sexual tension, on the other hand, is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
Everyone is decked out in their swim gear, ready for a relaxing day at a swimming hole Cameron and Brennan said they discovered one day in high school.
I head to the back of the car and open the trunk, pulling everything we brought with us toward me—towels, the cooler, aired-up pool floaties taking up too much space, beach bags full of snacks, sunscreen, the whole nine yards.
Colten rounds the corner, his eyes instantly glued to mine. He brushes past Brennan and stuffs the keys into the pocket of his shorts. My focus drops to the motion of his hand. I’m no doubt blushing because Colten’s lips tip upward, unleashing a flurry of sparks that skitter across my skin.
I didn’t realize how much I missed his smirk.
God. I think I want him.
And I wish I didn’t.
If there’s anything I’ve learned about Colten Lindenvale, it’s that he feels. Everything.
But he doesn’t show it, discuss it, or want to acknowledge it in any way, shape, or form. He was a man who instantly had to become the head of a household too young. A young adult who lost his mother and watched as his father was dragged away toprison, only to be left with the responsibility of a multimillion-dollar company and his five siblings.
I don’t pity Colten. I admire him.
My parents may not be active in my life, but I still have them. They love me, although it’s different from the affection I wished for growing up. But the kind of love between all the Lindenvale children is irreplaceable and inspiring.
Colten’s shoulder grazes mine before he comes to a halt. “We’re going to go scope out the spot. We’ll be right back.”
I nod, swallowing. “Okay.”
