“And you’re his soon-to-be cousin. We’re all family. That’s what counts.” And I planned to start taking care of my family better. I slid the pizzas onto the counter. “I got pepperoni and cheese. Figured we’d go basic until I knew what you liked. What’s your favorite kind?”
Addie hovered on the other side of the island. “I’m not sure. I liked cheese and pepperoni.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I think I might like to try the veggie lovers.”
I let out a groan. “Why do you have to try to ruin perfectly good junk food by putting vegetables on it?”
Her pink lips pressed together as if she were trying to hold in a laugh. “I like vegetables.”
“Fine, we’ll try that next time. Dough Boys is so good they might even be able to make veggie pizza taste decent.”
“Beckett, you don’t have to get me pizza.”
It was the second time she’d said my name, and I loved the way it sounded coming from her mouth—different somehow.
“I take my role as pizza tutor very seriously. Some might say it’s a calling. Don’t take it away from me.”
Those lush lips pressed together again, and I had a sudden desire to know what Addie’s laugh sounded like.
“Okay, pizza tutor, give me a slice of each. I’ll get the drinks. I don’t have soda, but there’s tea and orange juice.”
“Tea works.” I made a mental note to find out Addie’s favorite snacks and drinks and do a big grocery shopping trip.
She poured two glasses as I plated the pizza and placed them on the table in the breakfast nook. Then she moved back into the kitchen, taking the long way around that minimized proximity to me. She pulled out cloth napkins and silverware. I forced my gaze back to the plates as I carried them over.
Addie had set us up across from each other at the two farthest points of the table. I set down the pizza and slid into one of the empty chairs. Addie handed me a napkin and silverware, then took her seat.
She remained laser-focused on her pizza, using her fork and knife to cut the slice into small pieces.
“Addie.”
Her head jerked up.
“Do you always use a knife and fork with your pizza?”
“It’s greasy.”
I shook my head and folded one of my slices in half. “You’re missing the best part.” I took a huge bite. A glob of sauce fell free, landing on my t-shirt.
A laugh bubbled out of Addie. “I’m thinking my knife and fork are looking better and better.”
That laugh. The sound was magic, light with a bit of a rasp to it. Like how she’d said my name, I’d never heard anything like it. And I’d spill pizza sauce on myself every single day to hear it again.
5
ADDIE
I adjusted my grip on my tote bag full of this week’s groceries as I headed down the sidewalk. There was a bigger grocery store on the outskirts of town with a greater selection of goods, but it was way too far for me without a car. Thankfully, the little health food store had almost everything I needed.
It was still a bit of a walk, but typically, I enjoyed that. Today, every step felt like a struggle. I’d tossed and turned last night, unable to fall into that truly deep sleep needed to feel rested. I’d gotten used to knowing that I was alone in the house. I’d found a certain kind of peace from it eventually.
When I first moved in, I’d slept clutching the wooden baseball bat I’d gotten from the sports supply store in town, bracing for my father to break in and drag me home by my hair. But it’d never happened. Slowly, over time, I’d relaxed a bit.
The quiet of the remodeled farmhouse was a balm to my soul. I’d been so used to my father’s men raising hell that I never really relaxed at his ranch. That wasn’t the case at Hayes’ house, and the silence had brought with it peace.
Simply knowing that Beckett was down the hall had my adrenaline pumping and then guilt playing on adrenaline’s heels. He’d been nothing but kind to me. After we’d finished our pizza, he’d checked the wound on my finger to make sure it was healing well. He’d offered up watching a movie in the living room, but I’d declined, going up to my room to read instead.
I wanted to trust in that kindness. To believe that it was just who Beckett was. But I wasn’t programmed that way. Years of living under my father’s thumb had me second-guessing every person’s motives. The thought had anger bubbling to the surface. That wasn’t how I wanted to live—afraid to let people in and keeping my world as small as it had been when I’d left Kemper Ranch.
“Adaline.”