Heart of Glass Page 7

  “They’re right in the top of the bag,” Morgan replied, giving me permission to touch her stuff.

  “Cool floaties,” I called to Etta when I found them under a couple of beach towels. It was really more of a life-jacket-type thing than the floaties we’d used as kids. I handed it to Morgan and watched as she threaded Etta’s arms through the little armholes so that the poofy life-jacket part was across her chest, then buckled the entire contraption at her back.

  “They work really well,” Morgan told me as I slid into the pool. “Go ahead, baby,” she said to Etta. “Get your swim on.”

  My heart practically stopped as Etta jumped off the stair she was on and disappeared under the water, just to pop back up again with a squeal. The water wasn’t deep, maybe about three feet, but there was no way she could touch the bottom.

  “I keep a close eye on her,” Morgan told me in reassurance as she sat down on the pool stairs. “But she likes to swim around on her own.”

  “She’s got no fear,” I said, swallowing hard as Etta arched her back until she was floating, her face pointed toward the ceiling. Her head kept dipping farther into the water as she tried to lift her feet higher. My hands were fidgeting with the need to go spot her.

  “Nah, why should she?” Morgan asked, cool as a cucumber. “She knows I’m right here.”

  “Good mama,” I murmured, still watching Etta closely as she rolled over and started to doggie-paddle across the pool. That was better. She seemed a bit more steady when she was moving.

  “Eh,” Morgan said easily. “I try.”

  It took me a second to know what she was talking about, I’d been so focused on Etta. “I know a lot of kids older than her who freak out in the water,” I said, finally turning my head to look at her as I leaned against the edge of the pool.

  “I think that probably comes from the parents’ nervousness,” Morgan replied with a nod. “Kids pick up on that stuff. My mom was scared to death of roller coasters, and I still won’t go near one even though logically I know they’re safe.”

  “You live in Southern California and you don’t go on roller coasters?” I asked as Etta made her way toward me.

  “There’s more than amusement parks down here,” Morgan chided with a little laugh. “But to be clear, I’ll go on rides, I just won’t go on those open-air roller coasters.”

  “So, you’re cool with the baby rides, then.”

  “Whatever.” She laughed and splashed water in my direction.

  “No ’plashin’!” Etta scolded as she reached me.

  “Sorry,” Morgan replied. “You’re right, no splashing.”

  “You don’t like water in your face?” I asked, crouching down so that I was eye-to-eye with the tiny swimmer. “Me either.”

  She said something that I couldn’t understand, but by the look on her face and her tone, it sounded like a diatribe about the evils of splashing water.

  “She doesn’t like when water gets in her eyes,” Morgan translated as Etta turned away and started paddling around again. “Washing her hair is a franking nightmare. She swims like a fish, though, and the irony is not lost on me.”

  “I have a nephew that was the same way,” I replied. “Not the swimming part, but the hair-washing aversion.”

  “Do you have a lot of nieces and nephews?”

  “Six,” I answered. “Well, Etta makes seven.”

  “That’s awesome,” Morgan replied, smiling as we watched Etta swim. “My sister doesn’t have any kids yet, so Etta’s the only grandchild.”

  “Yeah, Shane—my foster brother, you never met him, I don’t think—and my cousin Kate have five. Then my cousin Bram has one.”

  “I remember Bram. He’s a twin, right?”

  “Right.”

  “He was the pissy one?”

  “Right again.” I laughed. “His twin’s name is Alex.”

  “Alex was the cute one,” she said, her lips twitching as she hummed a little.

  “If you say so.” Discussing how cute Alex was might have been in the top ten things I’d never want to discuss with the woman sitting next to me.

  “Everyone said so,” she replied with a laugh.

  “Anyway,” I murmured, changing the subject. “Etta’s got a lot of cousins to play with.”

  “That’s awesome,” Morgan said.

  “Do you—” I cleared my throat and started again. “Do you think you’d be cool with meeting them? There’s a lot of us, but maybe they could come in waves or something.”

  Morgan’s laugh sounded almost like a bark, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth.

  “Come in waves?” she asked, her eyes crinkled in the corners as she tried to hold back laughter.

  “I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed—”

  “Trevor, I was shuffled around foster homes for two years as a teenager. Your family isn’t going to overwhelm me.”

  “Well, that’s good,” I said, pausing as Etta jumped off the pool stairs again. “Because they all want to meet you guys.”

  “Sounds good to me,” she replied, looking away. “We’ll make it happen.”

  “Yeah, kind of hard with my parents in Oregon,” I said, picking up on the hesitant tone of her words. “But Shane and Kate and the kids live down here, outside San Diego.”

  “No shit?” Morgan said.

  “Yeah. She’s been bugging me to come see you guys since we found out about you.”

  “She can come see us.” Morgan shrugged. “I mean, I have to work and stuff, so it’ll depend on our schedule.”

  “I’ll let her know,” I replied, deciding then and there that I’d give it a few days before I told Kate any such thing.

  Morgan was being really cool about letting Etta see our side of the family. She’d been kind and welcoming to me from the minute she saw me on her front step, and she’d even agreed to bring Etta to hang out with me, but I could tell by the way her body had tensed just now that she was feeling a little cornered. I didn’t want her to feel like that. If she was going to have a relationship with us, she needed to know that we weren’t going to try to push her around or take over her life. At least that’s what I repeated over and over in my mind. If I was honest with myself, a small part of me wanted to force the issue, even though I knew that would be an asshole move.

  “So, what do you do for a living?” I asked, redirecting our conversation.

  “What do you do for a living?” she shot back.

  “I run the family logging company,” I answered easily. “Me and Bram pretty much run the show now that our dads are semiretired.”

  “Interesting,” she said. Her hands skimmed the surface of the water, back and forth in a hypnotizing pattern. They were delicate, just like the rest of her, and she wore a thin gold band on the pinky of her right hand.

  “Plumber?” I guessed jokingly. “Construction worker? Flagger? Underwater demolition expert?”

  “What, you think I couldn’t do those things?” she asked accusingly.

  “Hell, I bet you could do any of them,” I replied, quickly realizing my mistake. “But you don’t have the tan for construction or flagging, I’ve never actually met an underwater demo expert, but I’m pretty sure they’re rolling in it and your house is kind of small—”

  “Hey!”

  “—and I just can’t imagine you plunging other people’s shit every day.”

  “Maybe I just take really good care of my skin,” she argued, grinning.

  “There’s no way,” I laughed. “I mean, I’m sure you do. But it’s impossible to stand out in the sun all day, even with sunblock, and not get some sort of tan.”

  “I am a bit vampirish looking.”

  “Surprising, considering where you live.”

  “I really do take good care of my skin,” she whispered conspiratorially, before raising her voice to a normal level again. “But you’re right. I don’t work outside. I actually work at a tattoo shop.”

  “Oh yeah?” I glanced at the tattoo on her
shoulder, not letting my eyes wander any farther south even though I really wanted to.

  “Yeah, I do piercings, though.”

  “Cool.” I nodded. I didn’t have any piercings, I’d never even gotten my ears pierced, but I knew plenty of people who did. Ani had a couple different ones, always adding to them when she felt the urge, and currently had a septum ring. “You ever have to pierce any interesting places?”

  “I’ve pierced everything,” she replied, with a roll of her eyes. “Etta,” she called, “come back this way, baby.”

  She waited until Etta was a little closer to us, then relaxed again against the steps. “I’ll just say, women generally whine a whole lot less than men. Higher pain tolerance.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Oh, yeah. You wouldn’t believe the amount of guys that come in, planning on getting their dicks pierced on a dare, and then completely punk out once they see the needle. It was worse in San Diego, though. Half the idiots would come in with a little liquid courage and we’d have to turn them away. No piercings or tattoos if you’re drunk.”

  “Yeah, piercing my junk has never been an aspiration of mine,” I mumbled, cringing at the thought. I covertly slid my hands away from my junk when I realized that I’d cupped them in front of me in an instinctual protective move.

  “Different strokes,” she said with a shrug. “Women usually come in because they actually want the piercing, and they just want to get it over with before they lose their courage.”

  “I’d imagine it hurts like a—” I stopped talking and glanced at Etta before motherfucker came out of my mouth.

  “I don’t know. Tattoos take a lot longer, and a lot more people have those. Sit in a chair for hours while someone pricks you over and over, or take five minutes and be done, you know?”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” I said, just as Etta decided to grace me with her presence again.

  “You name?” she asked.

  “My name’s Trevor, remember?”

  “Twevo.”

  “Yep.”

  “Twevo,” she said my name and then continued to speak, but I had no clue what she was trying to tell me. I listened for a word that could give me a clue, but I didn’t hear a single one that sounded even vaguely familiar.

  “You want us to swim with you?” Morgan asked.

  “Twevo,” Etta clarified.

  “Hey, what about me?” Morgan acted affronted. “I’m your best friend!”

  Etta sighed like she was really put out, then giggled as Morgan dipped underneath the water and swam toward where we were sitting.

  Morgan popped up just inches from Etta and the shriek the little girl let out practically shook the walls as she scrambled to swim away. Shooting me a grin, Morgan dipped back under the water as Etta yelled in excitement, thrashing her way across the shallow end of the pool. Once again, as soon as Etta paused to try to find her mom under the water, Morgan popped up and startled her, making her scream in laughter.

  I’d been holding it together up to that point, but watching them play almost knocked me to my knees. I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Etta started splashing her mom just as I dipped down to swim toward them, my heart in my throat.

  “Hey, I thought there was no splashing,” I said roughly as I slowly made my way in their direction.

  “Oh, that’s just for us,” Morgan replied jokingly, sputtering as she wiggled her fingers at Etta like she was going to “get” her. “The no-splashing rule doesn’t apply to Miss Henrietta.

  “Oh, no, Etta!” Morgan warned as I dipped lower in the water. “Trevor’s gonna get ya!”

  I dipped below the water just in time to see Etta’s little legs going a million miles an hour as she tried to swim around me. Her movements were spastic and seemed like they’d get her nowhere, but she moved pretty quickly across the pool as I followed her, finally popping up when I ran out of air. As soon as I’d sucked in a bit of oxygen, my face was completely submerged again in the sheet of water that Etta had somehow sent my way.

  “No, Twevo!” Etta yelled, but she was laughing so hard that she could barely catch her breath.

  I let her move away from me and watched as she realized that she could no longer see her mom where she’d left her before. Her eyes grew wide as she searched the pool, then slammed shut when she squealed as Morgan popped up next to her.

  We took turns following Etta around the pool for over an hour, letting her wear herself out as she tried to swim away from us over and over. Morgan and I weren’t even breathing heavily, but by the time we decided to get out of the pool, Etta was completely worn out. She didn’t even fuss when Morgan told her it was time to go.

  “Twevo,” Etta called out as she approached the steps and clumsily reached for me. “Up.”

  I glanced at Morgan, who seemed unconcerned, then lifted Etta into my arms. She was so light it was kind of unbelievable. Like I’d told Morgan, I had a lot of nieces and nephews, but Etta was built far smaller than any of them, and it was really noticeable once I held her. I smiled as Etta’s eyes met mine. It was kind of amazing how someone so light could also feel so incredibly heavy. Jesus, I missed my brother.

  Etta dropped her head to my shoulder as I carried her toward the chairs where we’d left our stuff, and instinctively I raised my hand to rub her back softly. The girl was a character, there was no doubt about that. She was sassy and demanding and a little bit spoiled, but, God, was she sweet.

  I unclipped the floaty and pulled it off of her as Morgan followed us from the pool. The floaty thing was dripping wet and heavy, and I wasn’t sure where to put it.

  “Just drop it on the floor,” Morgan said, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself. “I brought a garbage bag to put it in until we get home.”

  I nodded, then let Morgan wrap a towel around Etta and tuck it in between us.

  “I’d just leave her in the swimsuit until we got home, but I’m pretty sure she’s going to pass out in the car,” Morgan said, looking around the room. “Do you know where the bathrooms are?”

  “You can change her in my room if you want.” I met her eyes as her brows rose in surprise.

  Shit. Inviting her to my room was weird, wasn’t it? She barely knew me. I held back a grimace as I waited for her answer.

  Chapter 6

  Morgan

  Being with Trevor was easy. I hadn’t expected that.

  While I’d already realized that he was a nice guy, I hadn’t yet figured out that he was going to be someone I felt comfortable with right off the bat. It was true, though. The longer we hung out, the more comfortable I felt, and it wasn’t even because of any specific thing he did. He was just—there. Quick with a comeback, funny, easygoing.

  I followed him and Etta up to his hotel room while she sleepily mumbled nonsense against his shoulder, and I knew that I wasn’t making the smartest decision of my life. I mean, sure, I wasn’t getting any weird vibes from him, but he was still someone I’d just met. Knowing each other as kids wasn’t really an endorsement. I’d once known a guy during my childhood; we’d played together because our dads were friends, and I would have considered him someone I “knew” relatively well—until I’d heard that he’d been arrested for drugging and raping a girl.

  People were funny that way. You never really knew them until they were comfortable enough to show their true colors. Sometimes if you were lucky someone opened up right off the bat; other times you never saw the real person beyond the façade.

  My sister is going to lose her mind, I thought as I followed Trevor into his room. It gave me enough pause that I discreetly pressed the slide lock between the door and the frame so that it didn’t close all the way and there was an inch of hallway visible through the gap. Trevor glanced over his shoulder at me and clearly noticed what I’d done but just gave a little smile, like it didn’t bother him in the least.

  “Down,” Etta demanded, lifting her head. As soon as her feet hit the floor she was off exploring the roo
m.

  I pulled out a diaper and some clothes as she opened drawers and checked out the mini fridge under the counter, fascinated.

  “I’m gonna change in the bathroom,” Trevor said, lifting a duffel off the counter. “Give you ladies some privacy. Just knock when it’s safe to come out.”

  “Thanks,” I said as he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Vaguely, I wondered how long he’d stay in there if I didn’t knock. The bed I’d dropped our bag onto seemed way softer than the one I had at home, and it was looking pretty inviting after our long day.

  I needed to get the hell out of there before I got any more comfortable. If I was really thinking about how inviting a strange man’s hotel bed looked, I needed to get my ass home. I didn’t have any time for that kind of crap in my life, especially not the kind that came with the baggage Trevor would be carrying.

  “Henrietta,” I sang softly, ignoring the urge to run. “Henrietta, come to Mama, it’s time to get dressed.”

  I sang the little ditty to a tune I’d made up when she was just a baby. She’d always loved when I sang to her softly, but back then I hadn’t known a single children’s song. In the middle of those early nights when nothing seemed to calm her down and I was three levels past exhaustion, I’d never been able to remember any songs at all.

  “Henwyetta,” she sang back, as she toddled toward me.

  I stripped off her swimsuit and swim diaper as I continued to sing, occasionally glancing at the bathroom door to make sure Trevor was still closed inside. “Henrietta, you’re all wet, what in the world have you been doing? Henrietta, let’s get you dressed, so you can be nice and cozy.”

  She hummed along as I snapped the sides of her diaper and pulled a sundress over her head. I let her roam the room again as I quickly got dressed in a sundress of my own and threw my hair into a bun at the top of my head. I’d deal with the tangled mess later when I had some conditioner and could actually brush through it.

  “Want to go knock on the door?” I asked, standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed. I was beginning to get uncomfortable, and kind of wished that we could just leave without saying our good-byes. “Go see if Trevor’s done?”