She’s been in twice, once to see Dr. Tailfeathers for a prenatal check-up, and once for therapy. But both times I drove her. No questions asked, that feels like my job.
But if she’s ready to venture out, it might be good for her to do a safe test run with a friendly face.
“And then we could…” Oh, I have a great idea. “We could go to the L-I-B-R-A-R-Y to get more bedtime B-O-O-K-S?”
Hope’s eyes light up and she nods.
Bellamy’s head swivels. “More bedtime what?”
“Stand up rule applies,” I say. “Go put your boots on. We need to do some work, get the truck loaded, and then I’ll tell you.”
She doesn’t let me forget it, either. As soon as the boxes are packed and the truck is loaded, she puts her hands on her hips like a tiny tyrant and says, sounding five times her age, “Well?”
“Bellamy!”
The three-year-old smiles. “Sorry, Zane.”
“You catch more flies with honey, just remember that. Anyway, we’re going to get you a library card so you can sign out some bedtime books.”
Her mouth drops open. “Books? For me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She claps her hands and spins around in an excited circle.
We move her carseat back to Hope’s little SUV, then they follow me into town. When I pull into the medical practice to drop off the first box, Hope drives past, Bellamy’s frog waving out the window at me.
By the time I finish the deliveries, they’ve had a visit with Mercy, and are ready to head down the street to the Dragonfly Creek Public Library.
Bellamy is already holding Hope’s hand. When we hit the sidewalk, she takes mine, too, so she’s between us.
“Swing?” she asks as she skips along.
Across the road, Cash comes out of his garage and waves as we figure out how to do a synchronized arm swing, sending Bellamy flying ahead of us, her legs kicking in the air.
“We’re going to the library,” I holler, lifting myvoice to reach my brother. “You feel like getting literate?”
Even from this distance, I can see him rolling his eyes.
“I read plenty,” he yells back.
But he still says something to Riley, then jogs across the street.
“I never miss an opportunity to go to the library,” he says when he joins us.
I scoff. “Since when?”
But when we step inside, the answer becomes immediately obvious.
It has been probably fifteen years since I last stepped foot in the library. So I could be forgiven for not knowing that Haven Bingham works here. But Cash is right across the street, and since he just said he comes here all the time…
“What are you doing?” I growl under my breath as he smiles at the pretty redhead.
“She's not like the rest of her family,” he says, not tearing his eyes away.
Yeah, he doesn’t want to fuck the rest of her family. He just wants to fuck them over, and I don’t blame him for that.
But messing with a religious girl isn’t the way to do that.
