Page 32 of Redeemed (Dirty Air 4)

My jaw drops open, and a sudden urge hits me to confess who I am. I could drop this disguise and spend some real time getting to know him in a daughter-father way. But I rationalize that our relationship needs to be taken slowly rather than me plunging headfirst. I recover from my temporary lapse in judgment and solidify my need to hold back.

He collects himself. “Do you like it here?”

I consider his question and how the past week has been the wildest thing out of my imagination. From crashing into someone else’s life to working for my father without him knowing it, nothing about my experience has been typical. Even the ancestry kit working itself out has me questioning where all this good fortune was throughout my life. It’s like turning twenty-four meant all the parts of my life would align after years of loneliness and disappointment.

I settle on something a little more subdued. “It might make me sound crazy, but this town feels like it has a bit of magic.” Him. The people. Santiago.

Matteo nods his head. “Magic is everywhere and in everything. People only have to believe in it for it to work. If you notice it, then embrace it because that’s what makes us dreamers.”

My dad speaking about us as a duo has my lungs burning from a sudden inhale of breath. I want there to be an us so freaking badly, I’m willing to bottle up all the magic in this damn town and hoard it. But not everything is meant to be contained, and magic isn’t the exception to the rule.

11

Santiago

I spend a whole week somehow keeping Marko entertained within the confines of my house. To be honest, my sister failed to warn me that the kid is cute but a human wrecking ball. I’ve never spent this long babysitting him and I’m starting to see why. By the eighth day of his stay, he’s already painted my walls with every crayon in his arsenal and pissed more times outside of the toilet than in. I’ve been doing laundry around the clock to keep up with all the food that lands on his body, and my couch has become a prime example of what happens when kids are given adult glasses instead of sippy cups.

Desperate to help Marko expel some energy after dinner, I take him on a much-needed visit to the lakeside park. I could also use something to calm myself down too because I can’t put my mind to rest lately. If I’m not considering checking the email with Noah’s proposal, then I’m thinking about Chloe and what she’s up to during our time apart. It’s like the two of them worked together to wreak havoc on my head over the past couple of days.

Marko entertains me, not allowing my thoughts to slip too far into the deep, dark pits of self-loathing when I consider what Noah said. My nephew shows me how there’s still good for me to look forward to in the world even if I don’t exactly feel that way often.

“Look who it is! Princess Chloe!” Marko’s hand slips out of mine as he runs down across the grass.

I stop and stare across the lawn at her. She sits on the grass with her legs crossed, holding on to a circular object. Like an old bad habit, I tug my hat lower down my face to hide myself from anyone who passes by us. I’m not too worried about any fans finding me based on how empty the park is at this time of day.

“Hey, you!” Chloe laughs as she throws whatever she was doing on the grass. She spreads her arms and Marko launches himself into them. He wraps his arms and legs around her, proving why he was nicknamed Monkey in the first place.

My curiosity peaks at the object she was working on. It’s a half-finished embroidery circle. The design is impressive and extremely detailed, with the bright mix of random flowers standing out against the white linen material.

I point at her work. “I’m seeing a trend here. Do you like wildflowers?”

“There’s something beautiful about chaos.”

“They remind me of you.” The words escape my mouth before I can stop them.

Where the fuck did that come from?

Her cheeks flush. “Some people would be offended about being compared to a bunch of weeds.”

“I have a feeling you don’t fall in the same category as those people.”

“Why?” A hint of a smile crosses her lips.

“Because those who see beauty in chaos also see flowers instead of weeds, and that’s a gift in a world like ours.”

“That’s rather poetic of you.” The pink in her cheeks deepens.

I smile at her reaction. She makes it too easy, and I won’t deny how I look forward to making her blush. Flirting with Chloe invigorates me in a way I haven’t felt in some time.

Marko lays a sloppy kiss on Chloe’s cheek, stealing her attention back. “I miss-ed you.” He crawls off her lap and sits by her side. His tiny hand pats the grass next to him as he looks up at me.

Come on, Marko. You’re supposed to be my wingman. I stare at the grass with such hatred, I’m surprised it doesn’t catch on fire. Getting up and down off the floor was always one of my least favorite physical therapy activities. Not because it was hard, but because it made it so damn obvious that I have an impairment to begin with.

Chloe laughs, soft and carefree as she brushes a strand of hair out of Marko’s eye. “Aw, I miss-ed you too.”

“Really?” He smiles in that infectious way of his. His eyes narrow at me as he pats the ground again. “Siéntate, Tio.”

I avoid Chloe’s gaze as I take a deep breath. I’ve practiced this move hundreds of times in rehab but executing it around Chloe has me feeling another sense of dread. Just because she kissed me doesn’t mean she is interested in anything more. And the kiss was a way to prove her point rather than to make me feel good. Based on the way she doesn’t look in my direction, I’m the only idiot who can’t get it out of my head.