Page 2 of Unspeakable

“Strange as it might seem, I’ve worked here since I was a kid—not behind the bar,” I hurried to add. “But all over the place. My dad and uncles own Ferrazzi Brewing and a few other businesses in town.”

She nodded again, indicating she understood, but still she didn’t say anything. Yet, I was learning nods had a language of their own, each meaning something different.

“Beautiful, you have a name?” I finally asked, tamping down my frustration. Somehow, this girl had caught me by the balls just by existing, and I didn’t want to scare her off. Even without knowing a thing about her. “You’re leaving me hanging here.”

Worry filled her eyes and she gave a quick shake of her head. With her brows furrowed, she reached for a pad of paper I hadn’t noticed sitting on the table near her. Drawn to her and unable to look away, I watched her dainty fingers while she scratched out loopy letters with her Bic pen. She turned the pad toward me.

My name’s Sparrow.

Two

Sparrow

If I spoke, I would have been speechless at this guy coming over and sitting at my table. The other man? He was an asshole, and I’d been a second from leaving my table then asking one of the staff up front for an escort to my car.

Then this guy… Hudson Ferrazzi. He looked to be about my age, which made me wonder if knew about my family and what had happened. It had been nationwide news back then. Since then, it had been on several crime shows as one of their unsolved crimes.

I hated that. Yes, I wanted answers—beyond what I knew—but I just wanted everyone to let it lie.

Now, I watched Hudson read the brief note I’d just written.

“Sparrow,” he said. “Pretty. You can hear me?”

I nodded with a slight smile. Over the years, I’d been surprised at how much I was able to convey without words. In fact, some people talked so much that I wasn’t sure they realized I didn’t speak. On the other hand, I was so frustrated trying to communicate it almost brought me to tears.

“But you don’t speak?”

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head.

“Okay, then,” he said, his tone quiet, as if her were thinking or talking to himself. “I’m not very good at this—it’s been a couple years—but let me give this a shot.”

Do you sign?he asked with his hands. I blinked at him. Did he just…ASL me?

I can sign.I grinned.But I can also hear.

I waited to see if he understood what I’d motioned to him. The flush that colored his cheeks and went clear to the tips of his ears told me he could. Something fluttered in my middle, touched that he’d tried to go out on a limb to talk with me. People didn’t usually do that. Certainly not drop-dead gorgeous men like this one.

“Right,” he said. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing, because I suck at signing. I can usually read it okay, but I always feel like my fingers get muddled.Anyway…” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Are you meeting someone?”

No.I glanced over at my to-go box.

“Right. You already ate. I promise I’m not a complete idiot. I even passed four semesters of ASL—we had to take a language as part of our general ed requirements. Geez, and now, I’m going to bore you by babbling.”

I grinned. Hudson Ferrazzi was adorable—though I wasn’t so sure men appreciated being called that. Adorable was usually for babies, kittens and puppies.

Not bored. Promise.

“Good.” He glanced down at the table. “I’ve been watching you since you came in—not in a creepy way!” he hurried to add. “You just grabbed my attention and never let go. And…I want to go out with you. I mean…will you go out with me?” His head dropped forward and he rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m screwing this up.”

I reached out and wrapped my hand around his forearm, grabbing his attention. When he looked up at me, I was lost in his eyes for a moment and almost forgot what I’d been about to tell him. The furrow in his brow snapped me out of it. He thought I’d shoot him down.

Yes,I signed quickly.I’d like to go out.

Probably, I was crazy. I didn’t know this guy, and no one had ever…wanted me. No, that wasn’t it. I was broken and not worth the time it took to get past my communication barriers. That was more the problem—my aunt and uncle who’d taken me in after my parents’ death felt that way. People my age who didn’t understand how I could go to the same school as them but was a freak who didn’t speak. Others, who I’d met since leaving high school, decided I wasn’t worth the time.

But Hudson seemed to think there was more to me. He’d find out, I supposed, since I already said yes before I could stop myself.

His eyes narrowed as if he could see my inner turmoil.

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