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CHAPTER THREE

ALANNA

Exhausted and ready to fall onto the couch to sleep the rest of the night away, I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with Cy tonight. I should have, though. Willow had texted saying he picked Charlotte up for her from school. Why, I thought something else entirely, knowing he picked my girl up I’ll never understand. Maybe I can just blame it on my exhaustion.

I didn’t expect the meeting with Rebel to take so long. No wonder she asked me to clear her schedule for the whole afternoon. The meeting went well past seven o’clock. Then we had to drive back to town.

Normally, I don’t go out of the office for things like this. I typically stay in the office, but Rebel wanted me with her. I didn’t blame her. I’m just surprised she agreed to the meeting, considering who it was with. I highly doubt she took it without Rogue knowing about it. Usually, for things like this, he’d take her himself. That man adores Rebel, probably as much as she adores him, if not more.

With a heavy sigh, I climb out from behind the wheel, scan my surroundings, and make my way to the front door. I don’t bother finding my house key, mostly because as I get closer to the door, it opens to the man himself, who has been the ever-present figure in all my dreams.

Standing there with his hat ever present on his head, his beard trimmed close to his face, the hint of the jewelry he wears around his neck visible along with the silver bracelet I notice he always has on his wrist. The long-sleeved tee fit his body perfectly, giving a girl a good view of what lies in wait. I’ve seen him without his shirt on a few times, so I knew he had an eight-pack full of nothing but hard abs. At least they look hard. Only in my dreams have I actually touched him. I won’t get started on the jeans he’s wearing. Well faded. Well worn. They cupped him in all the right places.

“Hey,” I call out in greeting with a small smile.

“You look fuckin’ exhausted,” he remarks with a grunt.

“Please tell me you didn’t just say the F-word in front of Charlotte,” I chastise. I don’t bother shaking my head or telling him he shouldn’t do such a thing.

“You know me better than that.”

I did.

Partially.

I open my mouth to say something . . . I was hoping for witty, but he beats me to it.

“Get in here before you fall on your face. It’s cold enough outside, and the temp’s gonna keep dropping tonight.”

Don’t I know it. News this morning said we were looking at a cold front and the possibility of snow. Since living here, it’s snowed a few times, but not like what they’re calling for. They’re expecting us to get at least a foot, if not more. Where I’m from, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ve lived with snow my whole life, a little snow isn’t a problem for me. Bonus though, Charlotte is going to love it.

One step after another, I get all the closer to Cy.

“Where’s Charlotte?” The question slips past my lips when I’m right in front of him.

“She’s getting ready for bed. Just finished brushing her teeth.”

I nod, appreciating that I won’t have to worry about making sure she brushed her teeth.

“Thanks for picking her up and watching her for me.” I hate that I have to depend on so many people to take care of my little girl.

“You don’t gotta thank me, Alanna,” he murmurs, fingers coming up to stroke my cheek.

Only before his fingers make contact, I move past him, putting distance between the two of us.

Cy’s lips twitch at the side, like he’s finding something amusing. “You eat?”

The question throws me off as he closes the door, sealing us in my house together.

“Yes.” It was the truth. I had something to eat, but it was small and definitely not what I’m used to. Rebel had offered to stop somewhere on the way home for us to grab something. I didn’t want to hold her up any longer. We both wanted to get home.

Cy nods, stepping past me to my couch, where he sits his butt down right in the middle of it. His feet going up on my coffee table, ankles crossing, and he leans back, eyes going back to the football game it seems he was watching.

“Mind if I finish this? It’s the last quarter. Lottie and I were watching before she needed to start getting ready for bed.”

“Sure, I guess.” I didn’t know why I was agreeing. Having him in my space is enough to freak me out. “I’m going to go check on her.”

Why did I tell him that?”

Sighing, I slip my heels off, pick them up, and set them on my little shoe rack where I keep all of my and Charlotte’s shoes. Granted, Charlotte keeps her boots Cy bought her in her room.

I bite back a groan of relief at not having any shoes on. It’s heavenly.

Ignoring Cy is hard to do as I move past him, thankfully having to go around the coffee table and make my way to the back of the house. I can hear Charlotte playing before I get there. Her door is open halfway, and when I step inside, I’m graced by a bright smile from her.

“Hey, Momma. Look I’s alwready for bed.”

God help my girl. She’s the most amazing girl in the whole world. Okay, maybe it’s my world, still it counted.

“I see.” I move toward her and drop down on the bed next to her. “Did you have a good day?”

“It was the bestest,” she says, hands flying up, nearly slapping me. “Cy took me for ice cweam. Then we hads pizza, but he didn’t get the good stuff. It had veggwies on it. Said I needed to at least have some type of veggie, even if it was on pizza. It was still good, but not as good as yours, Momma.”

I make my pizza from scratch. It wasn’t anything great, though when I make it, it takes a lot of time. I make the sauce and dough both from scratch. The cheese and toppings are the only things that come from the store. I also make a dessert one that Charlotte absolutely loves.

I took some to work one day, and Rebel now demands I make it at least once a month.

“I’m happy you had such a good evening, baby, but now you need to go to bed. Did you want a story tonight?”

I always try to read to her as much as I can. Sometimes, I even make up a story about a princess and the prince with his black steed. She absolutely loves those.

“Stowry,” Charlotte shouts. “I wants the one about the princess.” She giggles.

Nodding, I scooch Charlotte over on the bed just enough for me to lay sideways next to her, my back to the door, blankets tucked around my girl. “All right then, here we go . . .” For the next ten minutes, I tell her a story of the princess, and how she was waiting for her prince to swoop in and save her from the monster who wanted to take her away.

It only took a small amount of time, thanks to all the excitement from the day, for Charlotte to crash out on me. I didn’t even have to finish the story for the night. Ever so slowly, I ease from the bed and turn to leave, only to stop at the sight of Cy leaning against the door frame.

“What are you doing?” I whisper the demand.

Instead of answering, Cy looks past me to Charlotte then brings his gaze back. Still without words, he reaches out, grabs my wrist, and tugs me out of the room. I barely clear the door before he closes it quietly so as not to wake my girl.

“Cy?” I don’t know what else to say other than his name. Honestly, my mind is going into overdrive with just him touching my wrist.

Cy tugs me back into the living room, the TV is still on, but the volume is now muted.

“I got to admit that story sounded pretty damn real for a princess,” he says, bringing me down on the couch next to him. “Tell me, Short Stuff, any of that actually real about the monster?”

Oh no.

No. No. No. No.

I’m not about to have this conversation with him. I don’t need him getting involved. If he found out, then there’s no way . . .

Nope. Nah huh. He can’t know any of this!

“It’s just a made-up story, Cy, nothing more.” The words barely come out on a croak.

Cy’s eyes narrow marginally as if he knows I’m lying, thankfully, he doesn’t push me on it. Instead, he surprises me with his next question. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Ugh, laundry, cleaning, and taking Charlotte to a birthday party she’s been invited to.” I don’t know why parents of four-year-olds would have a party at a skating rink, but I was taking her. I just hoped she wouldn’t end up getting hurt while trying to do something without help. The girl is fearless about trying new things.

“Anything else?” he prompts.

“Not really.” I did everything I could to keep a low profile and keep people from knowing me. The few people who do, I know, won’t go against my wishes about posting to social media or any of that stuff. They get that I keep to myself. “Probably just relax here at the house and make dinner.”

“What day’s the party?”

“Saturday, why?” What is with him and the questions? He’s never been this nosy before.

“Good, then Saturday night, Charlotte goes for a sleepover with Gunner’s little girl. Delilah wants her to spend the night. You and me, we’re goin’ to dinner. Afterward, we’re going to talk. You and me where you’re gonna be honest. You’ll tell me finally what the hell I want to know. Then after, we’re gonna go to the clubhouse for a party.”

“I can’t do that.” I couldn’t do any of it.

Panic starts twisting and tightening around my lungs, squeezing, making it hard to breathe.

“Baby, you can and will. I’m done pussy footing around when it comes to you.”

“Why are you doing this?” Why all of a sudden is he saying any of this?

Cy shifts and leans more into my space, nose to nose, the bill of his hat knocked back slightly. “Because, Short Stuff, even Charlotte can tell you aren’t happy. She wants you happy. Wants you to find your prince. Means to me she, deep down, knows the princess in that story is you. I’m gonna make sure she gets her birthday wish for you to come true. So, buckle in, baby, ‘cause you’re not getting rid of me so easily anymore.”