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“Did you have belongings?”
“Yes, ma’am. I left them on the front porch.” I drop my eyes and kick my toe against a spot on the floor. “I didn’t know if I’d be allowed to stay.”
“Let’s go get them,” Em says. “It’s a scary world out there, and we never send someone away who needs help.”
I may not know the woman but I do believe she’s being completely honest.
Emmett is standing off to the side, speaking with one of the other guys, but I dart my eyes away a second after spotting him. I have no real connection to the man, so there’s no point in trying to be his friend or anything.
Kincaid, or Diego as Em calls him, falls in line with us out the front door. He frowns when the weight of the suitcase is much heavier than it seems he expected.
“Did you pack rocks?” he asks, a wry grin on his face.
“Just the essentials.” My packing choices now make me feel immature. “I didn’t have much room for anything else after I got my sewing machine in there.”
“I can get it,” Emmett says, holding out his hand to his boss. “Dominic was looking for you.”
Kincaid nods, handing the suitcase over.
He doesn’t say a word as we walk back through the building and out the back door. I noticed the pretty houses across the street but the house Em is directing us to appears a little older than those, but no less impressive.
“There’s a pool?” I ask, feeling younger than I am with the urge to run and cannonball into it, despite it being fall.
“We have two,” Em says, pointing to a building to the right. “One is indoors.”
The cleanliness and landscaping makes it look and feel like a well-maintained resort.
I look over to Emmett, but his face is impassive. It makes me wonder about his travels in the military. Has he seen so many amazing things that he takes all of this for granted? Has he been here so long that he no longer sees it as impressive?
My parents provided a comfortable life for me, but we didn’t have two pools. There wasn’t a massive swing set and jungle gym worthy of a country club in our backyard like they have for the kids here.
“That’s Misty’s house,” Em says, pointing down another sidewalk. “And over there is where Khloe lives. Rob and Jaxon live over there.”
I catch myself watching Emmett rather than looking in the direction of her pointing finger. He keeps his eyes locked ahead, his back stiff as if he’s forcing himself to act in a certain way.
He waits at the bottom of the stairs for Em and me to climb up, and suddenly I feel self-conscious that he’s directly behind me. Are his eyes on my legs or is it the heat from the sun?
“It’s the spare bedroom up the stairs, directly to the left,” Em explains.
I stand there awkwardly, and Emmett does the same until I make a move in that direction.
He follows, lifting the suitcase and placing it on the bed without a word. Before I can think of some form of small talk, he’s gone, leaving me standing there alone. The dismissive behavior is familiar. What’s new is the burn of unshed tears behind my eyes because of the sadness it brings.
I know I shouldn’t expect more from him, but it didn’t stop hope from blooming in my chest when he didn’t grab me by the arm and toss me out the front door.
I’ll have to take everyone’s kindness, because there’s nothing else for me right now. But I also have to keep in mind that it won’t last. Eventually the charity will wear off, and I’ll be given another ultimatum. I guess I’ll just have to do my best around here to prolong it as long as I can.
Chapter 10
Legacy
I hate the visceral reaction I have to her when I walk into the clubhouse kitchen the next morning to find her standing at the sink, her hands covered in soap suds from washing dishes.
A chuckle jerks my head to the left. Not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, I want to strangle Stormy. The wide grin spreading across his face tells me that he saw every second of my reaction, but I feel better knowing he’s watching me and not her.
I look around, assessing who else is in there, before lifting my hand and shooting him a middle finger. It only makes him laugh harder, drawing Devyn’s attention.
It shouldn’t seem like a seductive tease when she glances over her shoulder, making a lock of her damn hair stick to her cheek. She blows at it twice before giving up when it doesn’t move.
“Good morning,” she says, her eyes assessing me as if she thinks I’m going to have unkind words for her.
