Songbird (A Sinclair Story #1)
Page 5
“So there are four of you?” Melodee asked as she sank into the couch.
She looked stiff and Nathan knew she would be sporting injuries from the crash, but he also knew she would not be keen on his offer of help. Nathan was a take-control kind of man, but Melodee wore her independence like body armor.
“Yep, Matty is the oldest, Charlie next, then me, and the baby is Luke.”
Melodee’s eyes widened. “Shit. I’m guessing your house was pretty noisy growing up. Your poor mother.”
Nathan’s features hardened, his eyes growing cold. “I wouldn’t worry about her. She wasn’t around much after Luke was born.”
Melodee continued to stare at him with her witch eyes. Nathan shifted. He felt as if she could see right through him and there was some shit he wanted to stay buried.
He changed the subject. “So where are your parents?”
“Dead,” she said flatly.
Fuck. He waited for further clarification, but none was forthcoming.
“Sorry to hear that,” he said, to break the awkward moment.
Melodee shrugged. “I wouldn’t waste a second of sorrow on them. They were just really good actors pretending to be parents.”
She said it matter of fact, but Nathan could see that she had shut down. Her face had been open and expressive before and now it was cold and reserved. Just like with him, her family was not a happy topic. But Nathan had always had his brothers, and growing up his grandparents had been stable and loving influences. It seemed as if Melodee had no one. Well, she’d mentioned no one but her sister, and he had a terrible feeling that had been another tragedy in her young life.
“Nate!”
They both startled at the shout from the doorway.
“Where are you, Slam Dunk?”
Melodee shifted, leaning over to check on Jewel. “Not Miguel I’m guessing.” Her brows raised as a burly man dashed into the room.
He tackled Nathan. “Why don’t you answer your phone, dickhead? I tried to call until the service was knocked out.”
Nathan twisted where he stood and managed to get Charles into a headlock.
“Melodee, meet my brother Charlie,” he growled.
Charles threw his elbows back, freeing himself. The snow which had coated his jacket and stylish sandy brown hair flew as he spun to see the other occupants in the room. Melodee had straightened as he took two steps toward her. He was around the same height as Nathan.
“Well, holy shit damn.” He had very light sky-blue eyes, friendly and curious. He reached out, and before Melodee could stop him, grasped her hand in his much larger one. “I’m Charles, a very eligible bachelor, rich, talented … are you single?”
Melodee couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping her. Normally she’d hate his style of over-confident arrogance, but for some reason Charles made it seem charming. He leaned close and she knew he was going to kiss her cheek, but before he could pull her into his body, Nathan was between them.
“No,” he said. He had his finger pointed at his brother and his voice was harsh, his aqua eyes as hard as little chips of ice. “Back up on her or I will break you.”
Charles just shoved Nathan to the side. “You don’t own her, little bro. I’ll greet her any way I want.”
“Nobody owns me,” Melodee said, pulling her hand free.
“And she’s a fighter, with the ability to kick your ass,” Nathan warned, moving to stand closer to Melodee.
Charles’ grin grew even larger. “You might be my dream girl. Which basketball team do you follow?”
Melodee shook her head. “Never seen a game.”
Charles gasped, taking a step back, one hand on his chest. “You have got to be kidding. We are going to change that immediately.”
“Did you not notice the massive snowstorm?” Nathan said, interrupting. “How the hell did you get here?”
Nathan was pissed. And Charles was doing nothing out of the ordinary. But the moment he’d turned his legendary charm toward Melodee, Nathan had had to stop himself from punching his brother out. God knows why he was suddenly so possessive of this woman. Generally he didn’t give a shit, using females for what they offered and walking away the next morning. But something about Melodee felt different.
“I hooked up the plow to my truck,” Charles said. “We had to make sure you and Miguel were alright out here. Matty and Luke are at my house.”
“Melodee was in an accident on the edge of the embankment. Doug was driving.” Nathan lowered his voice. “Do you have phone service?”
Charles shook his head. “It cut out when I was about half-way here.”
“Doug and the other driver are dead,” Melodee cut in. “We need to get some help here. Can we get out with your truck?”
“Shit.” Charles’ handsome features creased. “I barely got through, even with the plow. There’s no way we’d get out now.” A small cry had everyone’s eyes shifting toward the carrier on the floor. “There’s a friggin’ baby in that carrier.” Charles took a step closer.
“You were always the smart one,” Nathan said drily. “We’ve been trying for hours to figure out what this tiny little creature was. A baby, good to know.”
Charles shot him a dirty look, and followed it with a jab to the arm. “No need to be a smartass.” He dropped down next to the sleeping baby girl.
“Is she yours?” he asked. When Melodee shook her head, the skin around his eyes furrowed.
“Her mom was killed in the crash,” Nathan said.
Charles reached out and ran the tip of a finger down her cheek. Jewel yawned once before opening up her eyes.
“Hello, darlin’, Uncle Charlie is going to make sure nothing bad happens to you,” he said without taking his eyes off of her. She blinked a few times and went back to sleep.
Melodee noticed that his features were hard, despite his gentle tone.
“We call her Jewel,” she said, not totally sure where the tension came from.
Charles nodded. “I never had much interest in children, but recently … well, things have changed. That name is perfect. Precious Jewel.”
Nathan focused on his brother for a moment. Something had been going on with him for a while now. Charles had always been the lighthearted one, but there was a darkness hovering around him at the moment. He’d disappeared a few months ago and wouldn’t say where he’d been. Nathan hadn’t pushed it, but if Charles didn’t get his shit together soon he was going to start asking some questions.
“Alright, I know there’s been a few tragic things happen today, but we need something to take our minds off it.” Charles straightened, a grin replacing the serious face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So what should we do to pass the rest of the day?”
Nathan knew he was right, they needed a distraction from the worry and grief. Melodee shifted before glancing between the brothers. “I think I have an idea.” She raised her brows and Nathan had a feeling things were about to get interesting.
Melodee let out a peal of laughter. She hadn’t fought just for fun in so long.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Charles groaned, coughing a few times from where he was sprawled on the ground. Normally Melodee would have to pound on him again for dropping the F bomb. It was her mother’s favorite curse and she hated it. Even worse than her father’s word of choice which started with a c.
“Where did you grow up? Some type of compound for fighting monks?” Charles’ coughing turned to wheezes as he pulled himself to a sitting position. “Why have you not stepped in, Nate? You’re the one with the black belt.”
Melodee, who was standing over Charles after knocking him down, spun her head to observe Nathan. She would have thought he was a little muscled to be very proficient in her style of fighting, which favored Kung Fu, but he did possess the same confident movements, like her parents, holding himself in a manner where she knew he could look after himself.
Melodee found herself taunting him. “You’re not scared, are you, Nathan?”
“I’m not going to fight for two reasons,” Nathan drawled. “I would rather watch my brother get his ass handed to him by a five-feet nothing slip of a girl.” He straightened and focused all of his attention on her and Melodee felt her blood start to pump as adrenalin flooded her system. Following that was an arousal stronger than she’d ever felt. She caught herself as her knees buckled slightly. What the hell was it about Nathan that made her want to follow him around like a damn dog? “And … I don’t hit girls. Ever.” By the time he said this, he was again in her personal space. And for the first time in her life she didn’t mind. In fact, she was fighting to urge to pull him closer.
She licked her lips, trying to find some moisture. Nathan groaned under his breath as he watched the movement. Melodee wiped at the non-existent sweat along her brow as a distraction. She had faced down her assassin parents and sociopathic cage fighters and not batted an eye, but this rich, privileged … basketball player had her off her game. Jewel cried out then, distracting everyone. Melodee sucked in a breath as she tore herself from the force-field of Nathan. They were still in the front room near the fire, so she only had to take half a dozen steps to reach the car seat. Jewel was awake and apparently not happy about it. Her tiny arms were flailing, face red and scrunched up, but still adorable beneath her dark curls.
It took Melodee no time to reach down and unclick the safety over Jewel’s chest and pull her free of the cushioned surface. The chair looked worn and threadbare, just as the young girl’s car had been. Melodee knew poor when she saw it, and this was one of the reasons she worried about the future for Jewel. As much as she hated the fact, money ruled the world and it was much harder to chisel out a bright future with no education or cash behind you.
“Dinner time I think,” Nathan said. He had already started moving toward the kitchen. Charles held out his arms for Jewel.
Melodee didn’t hesitate, gently handing the little girl across. She was an excellent judge of character and Charles was good people, maybe a little damaged, but weren’t they all. More often than not the best people were the ones with the rough edges. Life had tried to chip away at them, but they still carried on. Nathan was smoother, he covered his rough spots with good looks and a charismatic personality, but Melodee sensed deep down he was filled with darkness, secrets and without doubt the hottest ass she’d ever seen.
Jewel had stopped crying now and was babbling as she looked around. They made their way back into the massive, state-of-the-art kitchen. Nathan already had Jewel’s formula ready in a clean bottle and was organizing the rest of the food to start dinner.
“Damn, girl, you must be special,” Charles said as he handed Jewel back to Melodee. “Nate’s definitely never cooked for any of his women before.”
Nathan glared at his brother, while Melodee tried to figure out where her jealousy and anger came from. She forced a neutral expression. Picking up the bottle and tilting Jewel back, she started to feed her. The little girl attached on much easier this time.
“I’ve never brought a girl to Gramps’ place before,” Nathan said. It seemed to Melodee he’d felt compelled to add that.
She met his direct gaze. “You didn’t bring me either, I smashed over an embankment, upside down in the car of a man who drove like a lunatic and wouldn’t take no for an answer … and is now dead.” She spoke matter of fact, and while Charles seemed surprised, Nathan’s eyes narrowed.
He was doing that thing again, where he seemed to stare into her damn soul. Or should that be ‘damned’ soul. If Melodee wasn’t careful she was going to find herself exposed for the empty shell that she was: someone too damaged to ever live a normal life. She didn’t rely on anyone but herself and everything stayed safe.
Yeah, okay: safe, boring and lonely. But there were some things that a person couldn’t survive, and boring wasn’t one of those things. And Melodee was determined to survive.
Nathan couldn’t remove his eyes from her. He felt somehow that if he let her from his sight, she would disappear. Her head was lowered as she attended Jewel, her dark hair falling like a curtain across her delicate features. They were all quiet as he fixed what food he could from the random packages.
“Do we need to take anything to Miguel?” Charles said finally.
Nathan shook his head, “No, he had plenty of snacks and a few soups that he was going to boil over the fire. He’ll ring the bell if he needs anything, or help with the mare.”
“Don’t feel you have to stay here with me, Jewel and I will be fine,” Melodee’s musical voice rang out.
“We would never leave a beautiful woman alone in a storm,” Charles said with a grin. “Besides, you’re far better company than Miguel or the mare.”
“I always wanted to own a horse, or any pet, really,” Melodee said, a smile gracing her full lips, before disappearing just as abruptly. “I asked on my sixth birthday, but my present ended up a little different.”
Nathan’s body tensed in anticipation of what she would say. When nothing was forthcoming he pushed her a little.
“What did you get?”
“Forty-eight hours tied up in their basement prison. If I escaped before I starved I could pick one of the handguns to call my own.”
“What the fuck?” Charles snarled. “You were six.”
Nathan clenched his hands into fists, forcing his body to relax. They’d never gotten presents in the Sinclair house either, but that was mainly because his parents were selfish as fuck and because they were given their own credit cards by the time they were six. They were expected to just buy their own shit.
“How long did it take you to escape?” he finally asked.
“Eight hours and change,” she said, surprise shadowing her eyes again. “I ended up with pretty decent hunger pains and bleeding wrists. Could have been worse.” She spoke so matter-of-factly, as if that shit was normal treatment for a child.
Charles was muttering as he shoved back his chair and started to march around the room. Nathan turned back to the soup and sandwiches, forcing down the urge to smash the glassware he held. He was starting to get a very grim picture of the life she grew up with. Melodee was a survivor, he recognized this, but at the same time what sort of monsters had her parents been?
Melodee sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves flooding her system. She was sharing way too much of her past with them. She stayed away from people so they didn’t see into her personal life, but the Sinclairs, and Nathan in particular, were just too easy to talk to. She wasn’t really secretive, she’d long ago accepted her life, and if asked had no problems telling the truth. But not everyone wanted to hear the reality.
Nathan came to her side then, his large frame towering over her as he sat down two plates. Normally she would hate anyone at her back; it was a huge vulnerability to let her guard down. But as Nathan brushed against her, her nipples went instantly hard, and she realized she had no problem with this man near her. He didn’t move, and Melodee wondered if he was trying to give her an orgasm without actually touching her. Heat bled off of him, and his smell … damn, it was masculine and spicy and everything that had her wanting to strip him naked.
“I’m glad your parents are dead,” he said, his face close to her ear. “And if they weren’t, I’d feel obligated to kill them myself.”
Melodee met his gaze. “I haven’t missed one night’s sleep since they died.”
She could see that he was serious, Nathan wanted to defend her. For some reason he cared for her, and that was not something she knew what to do with. Men had used her, men had
wanted her, but she could not remember one man to ever care for her. No wonder Nathan scared the shit out of her.
After dinner Nathan and Charles went upstairs to find a few mattresses for them to sleep on. They had voted down Melodee’s suggestion that she sleep on the couch and they go to their rooms, insisting they all stay together in the fire room, just until the power came back on. Melodee expected them to return with a couple of roll-out foam things. Instead a huge, pillow topped mattress was hauled through with ease by the two men.
“This is for you and Jewel,” Nathan said. “Charles and I will just crash on the couches.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “You’re going to be sore from the accident, you need the softest surface money can buy.”
Charles laughed. “And luckily for you, everything in this house was bought with money, shit-tons of money.”
“Is there somewhere I can clean up?” Melodee rocked the drowsy little girl in her arms. She hoped Jewel was okay, she seemed to be awfully sleepy. But what would she know about kids, maybe they slept this much.
“Give Jewel to Charles and I’ll show you to the bathroom,” Nathan said.
She handed the little girl across – Jewel went without a murmur, snuggling into Charles’ broad shoulders – and she followed Nathan from the room. He led her down the same hallway and up a flight of stairs near the back of the kitchen. The house was dimly lit by small lights placed high in the skirting. But it was more than enough light to see where they were going.
“These are the old servants’ entrance,” he explained as they walked. “Thankfully, my grandparents weren’t big on that, even in their early days here, so they gave us boys free run of the back part of the house.”
Melodee could tell that he loved his grandparents; there was that echo of wonderful childhood memories in his tone when he talked of them.