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Storm was trying—and failing—to hide her smile, but when Isabel cocked a brow, she did clear her throat and try to look serious. “We need to help that girl with her filter.”
Isabel rolled her eyes. “No, we need together a filter. They forgot to give her one the day she was made.”
Storm’s laugh made Isabel smile.
“I can play with her,” she offered, jerking a shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t mind.”
Storm had been pretty adamant about not being into sports when she’d moved in, so now Isabel gave her a narrow, suspicious look. Storm gave another shrug, this one more disjointed while nerves showed on her face. “I ... um ... well, my last foster family, they were all big on me playing basketball and it turned into a thing. When I wanted to quit the team, the guy was ... he was kind of an ass—I mean, a jerk about it. But you’re not the kind to do that.”
“You don’t have to play sports here unless you want to, Storm. You know that by now.”
Storm shrugged. “Yeah. I just ... I like ball, but I don’t want to get invested in a local team when my dad will be coming back for me soon, ya know?”
The pretty teenager had been insisting her father would come for her—soon—almost since the first day she’d been placed with Isabel nearly three months earlier after the state had found out her mother had taken off with a boyfriend and left the girl alone in the one room apartment where they’d lived. Storm had been living on her own for some time before a neighbor became suspicious and called CPS. Storm had insisted she’d called her dad, a long-haul trucker who lived in Illinois, that she hadn’t thought she’d be on her own for long.
Isabel had her doubts whether the girl had ever talked directlytoher father, because Storm, normally fairly open, wouldn’t outright say what she and had father had discussed.
Now, as Storm gave her a look that held an uncertainty Isabel doubted the girl was aware of, she couldn’t do anything but smile in understanding. “I get it, kiddo. Come on. Why don’t you help me figure out something easy for dessert tonight?”
“Yougottacome,” Aaron said, his young voice flat, his eyes earnest. “You need to let Ms. Bella know you gave me the guitar. I don’t want her thinking I stole it.”
“I don’t see her thinking that.” Travis rested a hand on the kid’s thin shoulder. Aaron tensed at first, then relaxed, even shuffled a little closer. The boy seemed almost starved for affection—not that he didn’t get plenty of it from Isabel, but Travis had to wonder how empty the kid’s life had been of simple kindnesses before he’d been placed in his current home. “I get the feeling she thinks quite a bit of you.”
Aaron’s face flushed and he looked away. “Ms. Bella is pretty cool. But I’d still feel better if you came with me and told her.”
Well, fuck. Not that he minded seeing her—hell,hewas starving as well—starving for her, for another look, for the scent of her ... another taste. But it was clear she still wanted space. They hadn’t talked in over a week and any time hedidsee her, she made a dogged effort to be looking busy.
“Sure, I’ll drop in.” He drummed up a smile. “Now, or can I swing by in a little bit?”
“Now’s great!” Aaron grinned at him. “She’ll be starting dinner soon and if you come in while she’s cooking, she might put you to work.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” So much for hoping to grab a quick shower, Travis thought.
He grabbed the other guitar case before Aaron could try to lug them both and they started for the door. The sound of a ball slamming into pavement and youthful voices rising in playful jeers caught his attention and he glanced over and saw that the newer kid, Jacob, was still playing hoops with Brant. “How’s Jacob settling in? You two getting along any better?”
“He’s not riding my ass so much,” Aaron said, voice a little stiff. He shot a look up at Travis and smirked. “And he gave me a lame ass apology the other day.”
“A lame ass apology. Wow.” Travis cocked a brow. “Impressive.”
Aaron laughed. “Ms. Bella had something to do with it, I know. She read him the science act about genders and all, I think. It’s not the first time she’s done it.”
“Yeah, I caught some of it.” Travis grinned at Aaron. “Your foster mom is a sharp lady.”
Aaron’s smile turned sly. “She’s also hot.”
“Is she?” Travis gave him a neutral look. “I think she’s a little old for you.”
“I’m talking aboutyou, weirdo. Brooklyn told me she saw the two of you kissing.”
“The kid is dangerous.”
“Yeah.” Aaron sighed in satisfaction. “And she likes me best so I’m safe.”
The front door swung open just as they mounted the first step and Travis still as Isabel stepped out, a red scarf wrapped around her dark hair, her big green eyes distracted, although they sharpened and locked on his immediately. “Travis.”
“Ms. Bella.”
Her lips twitched in a smile as he echoed the title the kids used.
