Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale)(16)
“My new bedroom has planes on the wall,” said Ryan, breaking the silence. “I never been on a plane, but I still like them.”
“It isn’t your new bedroom,” said Verity gently, giving Colton an apologetic look. “We’re just here for a day or two.”
Colton shifted his eyes from her to her brother. “Glad you like the room.”
“Was it used t’be yours?” asked Ryan.
Colton nodded before taking a large bite of his sandwich.
“Ain’t had my own room since we left Strawberry Road,” said Ryan. “And Ver’ty says I snore like a loco—loco—uh, a loco—”
“—motive.” She nodded at Ryan, then grinned at Colton. “It’s true. Just be glad your bedroom is downstairs.”
“Oh, gosh!” exclaimed Ryan, suddenly leaping up from the table and knocking over Verity’s can of pop. “You got rabbits here. Ver’ty, look! Our new house got rabbits!”
She righted her can and looked across the neat square of green grass in the backyard to see a small group of rabbits at the edge of the lawn, their gray fur soft-looking in the lavender tendrils of light from the dying sun.
With surprising grace, Ryan approached them, stopping several yards away and mumbling unintelligible words of reassurance. Though they noted his giant presence, not one of the bunnies hopped away in surprise or fear, and Verity smiled.
After a moment, Colton’s body shifted back around, but Verity kept her gaze on her brother, who squatted down on the grass, in quiet communion with the four little beings who looked up at him curiously, maybe even ready to adopt him and invite him into their burrow.
You’re good with animals, Ryan. Always have been. Please let them see it tomorrow.
Finally, when she could no longer ignore him staring at her, Verity shifted her eyes to Colton’s, gulping at the brooding annoyance she found under his hooded gaze. In an instant, she saw herself and Ryan as he must see them—an oafish man-child and his helpless slip of a little sister, who couldn’t take care of themselves, as weak and vulnerable as those bunnies in the corner of his yard.
And with what could only be described as crushing disappointment, she saw clearly the frankness of their incompatibility. He was a modern-day Viking Knight who could break a man’s leg with a single blow. Sexy and strong, he surely had his pick of gorgeous women who could match their beautiful bodies to his. Colton hummed with electricity, with energy, with barely restrained intensity, and Verity, with her plain face, tiny build, and train wreck of a life, was likely the least appealing woman Colton Lane had ever met.
“I promise we won’t stay long,” she murmured. “I’ll talk to Ryan so he knows that this is just temporary. I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable.”
Colton didn’t say anything. He just continued to stare at her, his eyebrows furrowed together with annoyance, which made her continue babbling.
“He’s like a child. He doesn’t always understand, you know, the way the world works.”
She glanced over at her brother, who was sitting on the grass, his legs spread out before him lazily as the rabbits sniffed at his size-thirteen sneakers and continued munching on the grass.
“I have to go somewhere,” said Colton suddenly. “I’ll be gone for an hour or so.”
“Sure,” said Verity, scanning his face for clues about his abrupt declaration, but there were none. “I can clean up here.”
He nodded, standing up. “It’s a safe neighborhood, but if I’m not back before you head to bed, lock up. I’ll get you a key tomorrow.”
“Oh, I don’t need—”
“Whether you stay for one night or two, you may as well have a key.”
Or two. Two nights. So there it was. A gentle warning. She needed to figure out something else for her and Ryan by Tuesday night.
Well, maybe she could talk to Lynette about an advance. Or maybe, now that they had jobs, she’d be approved for a credit card. If not, maybe Colton could drive them to a local shelter? They could stay there for a while until they got their first paychecks and then find a motel somewhere near a bus stop so that—
“What’re you thinking about?”
His voice cut through the frantic hamster wheel of her thoughts, and she jerked her head up to look at him. He blocked most of the setting sun, which had the effect of making him look like he was on fire—bathed in flames, but standing tall. Sitting before him, she felt so small, so lost, so inconsequential and ridiculous, tears burned the backs of her eyes and her longing—to be safe, to be settled, to be comfortable, to be unafraid of the future—was so overwhelming, a lump rose in her throat. It was impossible to swallow over it, so she looked down at the table in misery.
“Spit it out,” he muttered.
He was a good man. Such a good man, in fact, that her worries might even translate into a burden for him, and she didn’t want that. He’d already done so much for them, the last thing he needed was some strange woman falling apart at his picnic table because she had nowhere to go. Reaching inside for the strength that had given her the courage to leave Camilla, to walk into that job fair this afternoon, and to accept Colton Lane’s kindness, she pushed past the lump and blinked back the tears, looking up at him in all his searing, godlike beauty.
“I’m thinking that I have never known someone as kind as you. And when I say my prayers tonight, you’ll be the thing I am most thankful for, Colton Lane.”