Beyond Words: The Hutton Family Book 1

by Brooks, Abby

  “Hey there,” I said, squinting up at her, smooth as ever.

  She smiled as she brushed her hair back off her face. “Hey!” She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky. I stared at her profile, the light smattering of freckles across her nose, those full lips, her cheeks pink from the sun. She took a deep breath—which pressed her breasts against the thin fabric of her shirt. I yanked my gaze away just as she opened her eyes. “It’s a gorgeous day, isn’t it?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You realize the humidity’s off the charts, right?”

  “True. But the breeze feels amazing.” She grinned and I realized Cat must be an optimist if she could find something good in a day with ninety percent humidity. She would fit in with Wyatt and Mom just fine.

  “I thought you might need help with your things,” I said, then paused and peered into the Jeep. “Though unless you have a truck or something following behind, it looks like I thought wrong.” Cat only had a few bags, and I wondered why. People tended to collect stuff as they lived. A vase with memories filling in the crack along the rim. A picture of friends or family. A book with wrinkles along the spine. What happened in Cat’s life that she didn’t seem to have many, if any, of those kinds of mementos?

  “You’re more than welcome to help,” she said as she reached into the backseat to produce two giant suitcases. “Who am I to turn down a case of good, old-fashioned chivalry when I find one?” She hefted a bag my way and then hopped out of the Jeep, maneuvering the other out behind her. “Let me just take a minute to put the top up in case it rains.”

  I propped her luggage on the ground and helped her with the soft top. “You ever take the doors off?” I asked. The Growlers I’d driven overseas were a lot like Jeeps without doors. Getting used to the ground zooming past without anything keeping you safely tucked inside took time. I doubted this little woman was brave enough.

  She looked at me like she knew what I was thinking and was all too happy to prove me wrong. “All the time. I didn’t today since I kinda needed them with me, now that this place counts as home for a while, you know? It made more sense to transport as actual doors than try to find room in the back.”

  “You make a good point.” I finished zipping up the soft top.

  “Usually.” She peered around the hood with a look that begged me to say anything different.

  I led her toward the house, explaining the intricacies of food and meals. As an employee living in The Hut, she’d have full access to the kitchen, though so did anyone else currently living here, myself included. “It can be a little complicated at first, learning to work around everyone’s needs, but we’ll find a rhythm.”

  She stepped onto the porch and paused, turning her face to mine. There was a moment of silent eye contact. I could feel myself glaring down at her, doing ‘that thing where I get all intense and glowery’ but I had no choice, not with the flood of all things Cat Wallace zinging through my body—her skin, her smile, the light in her hair, her perfume—with Katydid’s name chasing along behind, trailing a ribbon of guilt.

  Cat blushed and then smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing about her. “How many people live here now?”

  I held open the door and gestured for her to enter. “Right now? That’s a good question.” I started ticking off names in my head, but the number got tangled in my thoughts.

  Before I could answer, Wyatt came around the corner with Eli. “What’s a good question?” he asked, before his gaze fell on Cat. “Hey! Look who’s here!” He greeted her like an old friend and introduced her to our brother who lifted a hand and said, “Hey.”

  Eli’s eyes traveled across Cat’s face, down to her shoulders peeking out of her tank top, and right along her perfect breasts. He drank her in, savoring her the way she was built to be savored, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  “Cat wanted to know how many people live here now,” I said to Wyatt while giving Eli a look that meant back off.

  Wyatt furrowed his brow. “Well, let’s see. There’s you, Eli, Caleb, and Harlow,” he said, holding up fingers as he spoke. “And Mom of course.” He added another finger. “Then there’s Jimmy and Taylor and Emma.” He finished lifting fingers and waggled them my way.

  “And now me,” said Cat. “So that’s nine.” She pursed her lips and bobbed her head. “That’s a full house. Thank goodness the rooms each have private bathrooms.”

  “That’s nothing.” Eli raked a hand through his hair, his gaze darting my way, as if to remind me he didn’t need my permission to talk to Cat. “Imagine what it was like when we were kids, back before all the renovations and we only had one bathroom per floor.”

  The five of us kids each took to our lifestyle in our own unique way. Dealing with the commotion of living in a bed and breakfast came naturally to Wyatt. He adapted to all the hubbub as if he was born for it. Younger me resented the constant change as guests came and went. No matter how much I learned about a person, no matter how much I grew to like them, they were temporary. Here for a week and then gone. Eli learned how to talk to anyone about anything. Caleb got mad. And Harlow took turns either basking in the spotlight or running from it.

  Cat laughed, the glimmer in her eyes lighting up the entire room. “I can’t. It must have been a madhouse.”

  Wyatt shrugged. “There was never a dull day, but I’ll be honest, I kind of miss it. Now that we’re more hotel than B&B, you lose that personal connection with the guests.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I said, then moved toward the stairs. “I’m gonna show Cat where to put her stuff.” I grimaced at the pain in my leg as I guided her up the steps and to her room—located conveniently next to mine—then presented her with two keys, one for the main house and one for the room itself.

  “Well,” she said, reaching for her suitcase. “Guess it’s time for me to get settled in.”

  “Guess so.” My fingers brushed hers when I handed over her bag. Her skin was smooth and cool and all I wanted was more, but my phone weighed heavy in my pocket, a constant reminder of a woman who wasn’t mine.

  Neither of us moved. After a second, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she dropped her eyes to the ground. “Thanks for the help.”

  “Anytime.” Another long pause.

  She laughed nervously and slid her key into the lock. “See ya around, Lucas,” she said, and with that, she stepped inside and closed the door. I stared after her for a beat, then went into my room, pulled out my laptop, and drafted a reply to Katydid.

  Chapter Seventeen

  from: Skywalker

  to: Katydid

  date: August 1, 2018 at 2:15 pm

  subject: My nickname

  My friends used to tell me I have a hero complex, that I’d sacrifice myself to save the world and apparently, that makes me a lot like Luke Skywalker. I did everything I could to dodge the nickname, but I think that only made it stick harder.

  We’ve been talking about me a lot lately. How are you? Things still crazy?

  * * *

  from: Katydid

  to: Skywalker

  date: August 1, 2018 at 7:45 pm

  subject: RE: My nickname

  Sorry it took me so long to reply. It’s been a busy day.

  I like talking about you. You’re the most interesting person I know, and that’s saying a lot because I know a purple-haired bodybuilder who just recently came out of the closet. His best friend is a woman who only wears black. Black clothes, black hair, black makeup. She’d say she has a black soul, but she’s only being dramatic. They’re quite the pair. Draw attention wherever they go. And still, given all that, you’re more interesting.

  How’re things with me? Still crazy. Lots of change.

  Earlier you said change sucks and it’s easier to settle for the devil you know. I think that’s true BEFORE change happens. I think the prospect
of change sucks. And yes, sometimes the actual change itself sucks, too. (See, there I go again, seeing the opposite side of the coin before I even finish arguing the first side.) Anyway, for me, now that I’m not stuck in the pre-change period, I’m actually having fun.

  Yes, the future looks uncertain, but it’s also completely in my hands. It’ll be whatever I make of it, and so I’m feeling pretty good about things. The most telling aspect of it all is that I don’t miss Nash. Not even one little bit. I don’t miss our house. I don’t miss our plans for the future. I don’t miss having to censor who I am around him.

  He hated my purple-haired friend, by the way. The fabulous Christopher Magic lived way too far out of the box for good old conservative and traditional Nash Addington. And before you go drawing mental pictures of me based off my friends, I don’t dye my hair or wear crazy makeup. I just like interesting people. That would be my mother’s influence, I’m sure. And the part of me that’s loyal to my father is the part that let me fall in love with Nash in the first place.

  Anyway, I’m rambling and have probably scared you off by yammering away. Tempted to delete this so I’m going to hit send before I do. Tired of censoring myself, so consider this a test.

  * * *

  from: Skywalker

  to: Katydid

  date: August 1, 2018 at 8:01 pm

  subject: RE: My nickname

  A purple-haired bodybuilder who came out of the closet to hang out with a goth chick who sounds like Wednesday Addams? I wish you could see me right now. I’m laughing so hard I’m crying. Tell me that’s not his real name. Christopher Magic??

  Don’t ever censor yourself for me. I want you unfiltered. Raw. I want all your thoughts, exactly the way they happen. That’s what drew me to you in the first place. Why would I ever want anything less?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cat

  I stared at the words on my screen for five straight minutes, my heart so full, I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Don’t ever censor yourself for me. I want you unfiltered. Raw. I want all your thoughts, exactly the way they happen. That’s what drew me to you in the first place. Why would I ever want anything less?

  How could my mystery man be so perfect? My Mr. X. My Skywalker. Could he really be everything I needed? Was it possible that I found my soulmate and I’d never even seen him yet? And maybe never would?

  That line of thinking felt dangerous, so I dropped my phone onto the bed and crossed the room to stare at myself in the mirror over the dresser.

  “You are not falling in love with a mysterious stranger,” I said to the woman in the reflection. She smirked at me and the look in her eyes said she wasn’t as sold on the idea as I was.

  The fact that I was thinking about myself in the third person made me realize I needed company and I needed it now. With eight other people in the house, it was silly of me to hide out in my room, even if the view of the ocean dressed in the setting sun was begging me to spend the evening on the balcony, watching the sky catch fire.

  I grabbed my keys and shoved my phone in my pocket. If no one was downstairs, maybe I’d take a drive. It wouldn’t solve my company problem, but I could always call Chris and rub my fancy new job in his face. Not because I liked holding my good luck over him, but because I thought he liked it when I did.

  Laughter met me at the bottom of the stairs and I followed it into the kitchen. There, seated around a large oak dining table, were Wyatt and Lucas, along with two other men and two other women. One of the men I recognized from earlier that afternoon. Eli, I thought. The resemblance between the people in front of me was so strong, it was clear I had stumbled upon a Hutton family gathering. I froze in the doorway and did an abrupt about face, hopeful no one saw me.

  Alas, I’d been spotted.

  “Cat!” I turned to find Wyatt waving me over, a giant smile on his sun-kissed face.

  “Hey.” I lifted a hand. “I’m sorry to interrupt…”

  “Don’t be silly. Sit. Join us.” Wyatt pointed to an empty chair beside Lucas, who was busy checking his phone. “I told you, when you work for the Huttons, you’re family. That’s not just a line I fed you so you’d sign away your life to us.” The family met the statement with varying degrees of acceptance, but they all nodded in agreement.

  An older woman with a long, red braid, streaked with gray but still lush and beautiful, tracked me as I crossed the room. Her face was worn, but her eyes were bright. “Is this the mystical Cat Wallace I’ve been hearing about?”

  Mystical? What in the world had I done to earn an adjective like that? I held out my hands sheepishly. “None other.”

  A smile even friendlier than Wyatt’s broke across her face. “Fantastic! Have a seat. It’s killing me that we haven’t chatted yet. I always spend some time with our new hires, especially the ones that choose to stay with us. Rebecca Hutton, by the way,” she finished as I sat.

  “It’s a pleasure.” I couldn’t help but glance at Lucas who was staring at me strangely, eyes narrowed, brow crinkled. Such a change from his friendly demeanor this afternoon. Unsettled, I gave my attention back to Rebecca. “Really, it is. I’ve heard so much about you from Wyatt and Lucas.” Another glance his way. Our eyes met and my heart stopped. My stomach flipped. All semblance of coherence stuttered away, and I stammered out the rest of my sentence to Rebecca. What was it about this man that had me unable to think straight? Thankfully, Wyatt spoke, stealing my attention, and my thoughts settled into something that almost made sense.

  “You met Eli this afternoon,” he said, indicating the brown-haired man from earlier. Eli lifted a hand. “And that handsome blonde devil over there is Caleb. And this here is our delicate flower of a sister, Harlow.”

  Caleb lifted a hand and Harlow punched Wyatt in the arm. “See?” he asked, rubbing his shoulder while Harlow rolled her eyes.

  Before I knew what happened, I had a drink in my hand and enough conversation to never feel lonely again. The family was boisterous and friendly, and I got the distinct impression they were catching up with each other rather than having a regular conversation. That afternoon, Wyatt had mentioned they were all staying in rooms upstairs, well, all of them except for him, and I wondered at the reason. Surely, they didn’t all still live there? Had I interrupted a family reunion?

  They laughed and told stories of growing up, taking the time to explain inside jokes so I could laugh right along with them. It was surreal, sitting around a table this big with a family this lively. It was the perfect juxtaposition of my stoic dinners with Dad and my less than formal meals with Mom. In a matter of hours, I felt right at home.

  Throughout it all, Lucas had my attention. When I thought he wasn’t looking, I would glance his way, only to find him watching me. I wanted to memorize the angle of his jaw, the quirk of his lips. Even the sheen of blonde hair on his tan forearm was mesmerizing. His voice sent my stomach into a tizzy and quite suddenly, it was all a little more than I could stand.

  My mere presence seemed to make him tense, though that could just as easily be that I had the same effect on him as he did on me. Or, it could be my ego talking, but I had a pretty good track record when it came to reading people. Although, considering recent events, one could argue that I wasn’t as good at it as I thought, seeing as my fiancé had been cheating on me and I never had the slightest suspicion. Which was the thought that brought me crashing right back down to earth.

  I didn’t have room in my life for men right now and between Skywalker and Lucas, I had enough drama going on that the Magic Man himself would be proud. I giggled to myself, drawing a strange look from Lucas. Maybe it was time I stopped drinking whatever it was Eli kept pouring. The concoction was tasty enough that it went down easily, but I was starting to think these colorful little drinks packed quite a punch. I slid my glass away. Rebecca caught my eye, made a face that said she understood, and did the same.

  “Hey…” Wyatt leaned f
orward to catch my attention. “Do you have clients tomorrow? She doesn’t have clients tomorrow, does she Mom?”

  The entire table erupted in laughter, myself included. He sounded like a little boy, asking his mother if a friend could sleep over.

  Wyatt looked around, confused. “What?”

  “Aren’t you the manager?” Caleb asked. “Shouldn’t you be the one to know without having to ask Mom?”

  Wyatt waved away the question. “Yes, I should know, but with all you guys getting your noses into my stuff, I’ve lost track. Besides, these are strong.” And he, too, pushed his glass away.

  I shook my head. “I don’t have clients tomorrow because, if I remember correctly, the manager wanted to give me time to settle in before he put me to work.”

  There was more laughter. “She’s going to fit in well around here,” Harlow said, and everyone agreed.

  Wyatt waited for the table to quiet down with a good-natured look on his face. “Anyway,” he said to me, “we’re going out on the boat tomorrow. You should come.”

  I couldn’t help it, I glanced at Lucas. He glared at me, his brow knit together and I flinched. That settled it. Obviously, I was not as good at reading people as I thought. The intense attraction between us was not mutual. And double obviously, Lucas did not want me to butt in on their little family gathering.

  “See!” Wyatt pointed a finger at Lucas. “That. Right there. The super intense glowery thing. You’re doing it, brother.” He turned to me. “I promise you, whatever he’s thinking is less terrifying than it looks.”

  Lucas glanced at his brother, then turned back to me. Maybe I was less skilled than my mother when it came to reading facial cues and maybe I wasn’t, but I swore, the twist in his lips when he turned to Wyatt said, ‘that’s what you think.’