They looked at me guiltily. Or maybe I was reading into it. It didn’t really matter at this point.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I groaned. “Fuck my life.” Taking a deep breath, I got myself together and then took off into the house. I grabbed a leash and started toward the front door, stopping in my tracks when my eyes caught on Cindy’s tiny figure in the living room.
“Uh, so, I…uh…” I pointed over my shoulder like a moron. “I lost one of the dogs. Well, I didn’t lose him. He escaped. While I was watching him. So I guess basically, I lost him.”
Cindy’s eyes were wide as if she didn’t know what to make of my rambling.
Join the club, kid.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I had to go after the dog, but I couldn’t leave Cindy in the house alone. Which I guess left only one option. “You up for a recovery mission?”
She looked alarmed.
“We need to go find Taz. Can you come help me? He probably likes you better than me, so he may come back if you’re with me.” I held out my hand to her without waiting for a response because no wasn’t really an option. She had to come. I just hoped I’d sold it well enough that I didn’t have to drag her kicking and screaming.
She eyed my hand like it held a tarantula, but she took a few steps forward and slid her tiny hand into mine.
I gave her a squeeze and opened the door. “Off on the Great Taz Adventure!” When I looked down, I thought I saw the ghost of a smile on her face but didn’t have time to inspect it more closely. That, and bending down to examine her face so I could see my first Cindy smile, while tempting, would probably ensure I never saw another one.
Rushing as fast as I could with Cindy in tow, I made my way down the street, my head swiveling all around.
“Taz,” I whisper-yelled repeatedly as we walked.
There was no sign of the mutt, and after fifteen minutes of searching, I was starting to contemplate what I was going to tell Harry. “Hey, sorry, Harry, while you were visiting your dying father-in-law, your dog pulled a Houdini and is likely lost forever. My bad.”
Though I didn’t know his father-in-law was dying. Harry had texted earlier to check in but hadn’t given me any details, and I hadn’t asked. If the guy actually passed away, I was going to feel guilty for throwing that thought into the cosmos.
I didn’t realize I began muttering under my breath until Cindy pulled on my hand.
I looked down at her. “Sorry, Cinnabon.”
When I made to move farther down the street, Cindy didn’t budge.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
She pointed toward a playground.
I squatted down so I was on her level and smiled. “It’s a little late to go to the playground now, but we can come tomorrow.”
She shook her head at me, her eyes drifting closed like she was dealing with a dolt. Her hand lifted again to point at the playground.
“Cindy, we can’t…” I finally looked where she was pointing and saw that wild beast Taz curled up under a slide. Thank goodness there were lights around the area, or I never would’ve seen him. Or Cindy wouldn’t have. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have seen him even if a UFO had been beaming light onto him.
I approached Taz like one might approach an alligator. If he took off again, I’d have to let him go. I couldn’t keep dragging Cindy around the neighborhood.
“Okay, Taz, easy does it. Just stay right there and let me get my hands around your neck.”
Cindy, whose approach had been a slow creep beside me, stopped and looked at me.
“I didn’t mean that how it sounded,” I promised.
She seemed to take my words at face value, which was good because I hadn’t meant them. Finally, we reached the slide, and I crouched in front of it, which caused Taz to scoot back farther. He looked ready to bolt, the bastard.
I looked at Cindy. “Maybe you should try calling him.”
Cindy tilted her head as if considering my suggestion. Then she knelt down, no doubt getting the knees of her jeans filthy, and patted her lap.
“Come here, Tazzy,” she said in a voice so soft I wouldn’t have heard if I hadn’t been so close. Her words took me aback a bit, having only heard a seldom singular word here and there over the months I’d known her. Her voice was as sweet as a second grader’s should be.
Taz inched forward. Cindy patted her thighs again. “It’s okay, Tazzy. It’s time to go home.”
At the mention of the word home, Taz stood up and pushed himself onto her lap, licking her face affectionately while I secured the leash on him.
“What did I tell you?” I said to her. “I knew he’d go to you. I never would have caught him without you.”
She smiled and readily accepted my hand when I held it out to her. We walked Taz home and then I quickly fed the dogs and took them into the backyard again—on leashes this time—with Cindy hovering behind me. When we came back in, Cindy went over to settle on the couch as I tidied up a bit. After a couple minutes, I lifted my head to ask if she needed anything, and I saw tears streaming silently down her face.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” I asked as I sat beside her on the couch.
She didn’t answer. There was no sound escaping her, but tears were steadily streaming down her face, and she was clutching a stuffed armadillo. I wasn’t sure how an armadillo was comforting, but the way Cindy held it tightly against her said it was.
“Do you feel okay?” I asked.
No answer. I reached over and gently pulled her hand to rest on the back of mine.
“Can you tap once for no and twice for yes?”
Thankfully, she gave me two taps.
“Are you hurt?”
One tap.
“Sad?”
Two taps.
“You miss your mom?”
Two taps.
I sighed, unsure of how to fix that. Taryn had said she’d try to call Cindy when she had a break, but other than a text an hour ago asking if everything was okay, there’d been nothing. Taryn had said she would be on the casino floor and would be unable to check her phone, so us calling her would be pointless.
Then I had an idea. “You want to record a message for her, and I’ll text it so she can watch it when she gets a break?”
One tap.
Shit. “How about I order our pizza and we can watch a movie? Your pick.”
Two taps.
“Great.” Feeling relieved to have a plan, no matter how flimsy, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and searched for local pizza places. Only one came up that delivered within a ten mile radius. How did Harry and Justin survive under such conditions?
When the call connected, I asked for delivery.
“Our driver had to go home sick. We got another guy coming in, but we’re not taking any more delivery orders until he gets here.”
Okay, not ideal, but we could roll with it. “Okay, I’ll come pick it up.”
“Wait’s over an hour. It’s been a helluva night.”
Fuck this whole night sideways.
“Okay, thanks anyway, man.” I hung up and looked at Cindy. “Like anything else besides pizza?”
And when the tears started again… I panicked.
T A Y L O R
Fridays were usually busy at the Treehouse, but tonight we’d been slammed. I’d walked in for my shift to see the servers and bartenders all running their asses off and so many people that we had to be over our max capacity.
I hadn’t stopped moving since I’d clocked in. But as it approached ten, things started to calm down. Friday exhaustion had finally caught up to the after-work crowd, and they settled their tabs and headed home. It was still crowded, but it was no longer quite so manic.
I was taking a sip of water and catching my breath at the server’s station when Gail walked over.
“You have a table.”
I looked at her, my brow wrinkling. “I just got one. Isn’t it Jessie or Lana’s turn?”
“You were requested.”
/>
“Oh.” No one had told me they were stopping in, but it wasn’t uncommon for it to happen. “Okay, I’ll go right over.”
“I’d hurry. They look…desperate. It’s a look I know well.”
Smirking, I set down my water and asked, “You know it because you wear it a lot or because you cause it in others?”
She thought for a second. “Both.”
I laughed at that. “Thanks, Gail. What’s the table number?”
“They’re sitting in the tree house.”
That stilled me. “But there’s no table in there.” Against one wall, there was a small wooden structure that resembled a tree house, but it was just a model. It wasn’t a place people could actually sit.
“The guy kind of begged. And since I love it when men do that, I caved,” she said.
I was sure my eyes widened in alarm as I took off in the direction of the house. When I got close enough to peek inside the doorway, all I could see was a large body crammed into what amounted to a wooden box. And there was a blond head just barely visible through the window.
Bending down, I poked my head in the doorway. “Ransom?”
The man looked utterly ridiculous jammed into the tiny house. His long, bulky limbs were folded in ways that seemed to defy human physiology. It was like a LeBron James hanging out in a kid’s playhouse.
Next to him sat a wide-eyed Cindy. She was looking at her surroundings in wonder, looking happier than I’d ever seen her.
“Taylor. Hey,” Ransom said.
“Hi, Cindy,” I said.
The little girl gave me a small wave before returning her attention to the walls of the tree house. I’d never looked in there, but the walls were painted with everything someone might find in an actual tree house.
“What’s going on?” I asked Ransom.
“I think bad parenting is a genetic trait,” he said.
“What?”
“So far this evening, I’ve lost a dog, failed to feed a seven-year-old in a timely manner, and had a panic attack at the first sign of emotional distress. I think my mom passed her crappy parenting ability down to me. As if it’s not bad enough I have her eyes and hair.”
“You’re great with kids. I see it every day.” I’d seen Ransom’s insecurities peek through from time to time, and it always made a fierce surge of protectiveness well up inside me. He was amazing, and I hated when he doubted that.
“I’m great at playing with kids. Maybe because I’m just a big kid myself. But actually caring for them…” He finished his thought by shaking his head.
Movement out of the corner of my eye stole my attention for a second. Cindy stood as best she could and looked at Ransom for a few seconds before stepping closer to him and wrapping her little arms around his neck.
He stilled for a moment, shock clear on his face, before he wrapped his large arms around her tiny frame and returned the hug.
I smiled as I watched the tender moment unfold in front of me. “I think you’re doing just fine.”
After a moment, Cindy pulled away and Ransom let her go immediately. She settled back on the floor and let her hands roam over the walls as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
Ransom still looked a bit stunned.
In order to snap him out of it, I cleared my throat. “So you haven’t had dinner? What can I get you guys? Cindy, we have nuggets, macaroni and cheese, and grilled cheese. Any of that sound good?”
She looked at me blankly. Ransom held out his hand toward her. “Do you want nuggets and fries?”
She stretched her fingers toward him and tapped his hand once.
“Grilled cheese?”
Two taps.
“With fries?”
Two taps.
He looked at me. “She’ll have grilled cheese and fries. And can I get a bacon burger? And two waters?”
Answering him was a struggle because my heart was fluttering wildly in my chest. How could this man ever think he wasn’t good at taking care of kids? He’d found such a simple way to give Cindy a voice. It was amazing.
“Absolutely. Coming right up.”
I was thankful our kitchen didn’t stop our regular menu until eleven, so I wouldn’t have to beg one of the cooks to rustle up a grilled cheese. I did ask if they could hurry the order, which they graciously agreed to do. I returned to them with their waters before checking in with my other tables.
Their food was done quickly, and I took it to them, wishing I could crawl in the house and hang out with them while they ate. But I made the rounds instead, refreshing drinks, delivering food, and dropping off checks.
It was shocking I managed to avoid making any mistakes, because my mind was firmly inside the tree house for the entire time Ransom and Cindy were there. Making a decision, I walked over to where Jessie was waiting for drinks from the bar.
“Hey, I was wondering if you’d want my cocktail shift tomorrow?” Saturday was our best money-making night, but even though I’d just been given both weekend nights recently, I knew my time was better spent with Ransom and Cindy. I also knew Jessie was working to pay for school, so odds were good she’d take it.
“Sure,” she replied. “Thanks.”
“Thank you. I’ll let Jerry know. And if you want me to take a shift for you sometime, let me know.”
She smiled. “Will do.”
I tracked down Jerry in his office and let him know of the change. As long as someone would be there to cover the shift, he didn’t care who it was, so the conversation was brief.
When I made my way back to Ransom, they had finished their food and Cindy was looking tired.
“Can we get the check?” he asked. “I want to get her to bed.”
“It’s on me. I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“No, I can’t let you do that,” he argued.
“You can’t let me?” I asked, my eyebrows raised in challenge.
Ransom raised his hands. “Never mind. Poor choice of words. Thank you for dinner.”
“My pleasure.”
Watching Ransom extricate himself from the tree house was a comedy act worthy of being taken on the road. He didn’t so much walk out of it as fall through the doorway. It was spectacular to witness, and I was sad we weren’t allowed to have our phones out on the floor while we worked, because it was really something that should’ve been immortalized via iCloud.
Once he was upright, I said, “I’m glad you guys came in. Though I’m a little surprised you brought her to…what did you call it again? A Peter Pan kidnapping ring?”
“Trafficking ring,” he corrected. “And I told you, I’m predisposed to making bad parenting choices.”
The joke was clear in his voice, so this time I laughed at the reference to him being bad at anything. “I think it worked out okay.”
He glanced down at Cindy before returning his gaze to me. “Yeah, I guess it did. So…we’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Bright and early.”
“Can’t wait. Come on, Cindy.”
And as I watched them leave, I couldn’t resist whispering a response. “Me neither.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
T A Y L O R
I’d set my alarm for seven the next morning so I’d make it to Harry’s by eight. When I got there, Ransom had burned two batches of pancakes and looked close to donning a straitjacket. I removed the spatula from his hand, told him to grab a shower, and cooked Cindy breakfast.
After that, we spent the day roughhousing with the dogs, hanging at the playground, and playing every board game we could find—which was a ridiculous amount. Harry and his husband could probably start some kind of store with the collection they’d amassed.
Ransom and I made a good team, and we managed to keep Cindy content for the whole day. By the time bedtime rolled around, we were all exhausted, and Cindy drifted off without any fuss after we got through the two books she’d wanted me to read to her. She’d turned a sweet look on me that I was powerless to refuse.
When I finally got back downstairs, Ransom had straightened up the living room and was kicked back on the couch with the remote in his hand.
“Wanna watch a movie on Netflix?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied as I settled beside him.
“Genre preference?”
“Something lighthearted and funny.”
Ransom scanned through the choices, stopping on Twilight.
I looked over at him. “Let me guess. Team Jacob?”
He turned his head toward me quickly, looking surprised, as if he’d forgotten I was there.
“Huh?”
“In the teenybopper gang war that was Team Edward versus Team Jacob, I put you firmly on Team Jacob.”
He smiled slightly. “Nah, I was Team Volturi. I wanted them to wipe out everyone so I didn’t have to endure any more of those horrible movies.”
I laughed. “Who made you watch them?”
His smile grew wider but somehow shier. “Emily.”
Astutely ignoring the stab of irrational jealousy that shot through my chest, I kept my tone light. “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”
It shouldn’t have mattered who this Emily was. He’d never mentioned her before, that I remembered, so even if she’d been someone to him at some point, she clearly wasn’t anything to him anymore. Maybe she was an elderly neighbor he spent time with. Or a foster sibling he’d had once. So there was no reason for me to worry about this Emily person.
“She was my wife.”
“She was what?” I had to have misheard. Maybe I needed to see an ENT or something. My hearing had to be truly fucked, because it had sounded like he’d just said she was—
“My wife. We got married right after high school.”
“Oh,” I said dumbly because my brain had completely short-circuited. “When did you divorce?”
He looked at me confused, which quite frankly, made my feathers ruffle a bit. He was the one being confusing. Not me.
“We didn’t.”
I stood abruptly, banging my knee on the coffee table. “Ow, shit, fucking…wood…thing.”
“Are you okay?”
“Peachy,” I practically growled at him.
Ready or Not (The Love Game Book 4) Page 20
