Where the Road Takes Me Page 23

   I’d watched and listened to Harry enough to know he was attempting a kick flip. He did it a few more times while Blake circled, one arm crossed over his chest and the other with his hand on his chin. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he took in Harry’s form. “Is it cool if I try to help you out a little?”

   “Sure.” You couldn’t have wiped the smile off the boy’s face if you’d tried. The other kids stopped what they were doing and made their way over so they could watch. I joined them and stood next to Blake. He’d winked when he’d seen me coming. I wondered for a second what the hell he was doing there, hanging out with my broken family and me. But it was only a second before I decided that I just didn’t care.

   “So I think if you move your left foot back a little and put your right foot on more of an angle, you’d be good.”

   Harry’s eyes narrowed in concentration as he looked from Blake to me. I encouraged him with a nod of my head.

   The cheers he got when he nailed the trick were so loud Dean came rushing out the front door. His body visibly relaxed when we told him what had happened. “Wash up,” was his response. “Dinner’s ready.”

   I watched the kids run up the porch steps while we trailed behind. “That was really nice, Blake, you helping Harry like that.”

   “It was nothing.”

   “It meant something to him.”

   He put his arm around my shoulders and brought me closer to him. “Did it mean something to you?”

   “Yes.”

   He kissed my temple, longer than what was necessary but shorter than what I wanted. “Then I guess it means something to me, too.”

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

   Blake

   It took two minutes for me to devour my plateful of food. The others were still going, slowly chomping away while entertaining themselves with conversation.

   “You can have seconds,” Chloe whispered up at me.

   I looked down at her plate. Her food looked untouched. “It’s okay.”

   The scraping of a chair got my attention. Dean leaned over, grabbed my plate, and proceeded to fill it with a little of everything from the smorgasbord on the table. Three different varieties of pasta, steak, chicken, salad, everything. “You’re a growing boy,” he boomed, setting the plate back down in front of me. “You need to eat.”

   “Thank you,” I said quietly. I was a little uncomfortable and out of my element. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home-cooked meal . . . and we never really sat down at a table like this.”

   “Your parents don’t feed you?” Mary asked.

   “Um . . .” The words caught in my throat. Looking around the table, I decided that my self-pity wasn’t valid, not in this situation.

   “His parents are busy,” Chloe answered.

   “You speak for me now?” I joked, looking down at her.

   She smirked, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.

   Then Dean chimed in, “Get used to it, Hunter. That’s what girrrrlfriends do.”

   She dropped the knife and fork on her plate, the sound of it almost as piercing as her frustrated grunt. “He’s not my—”

   My phone rang, interrupting her. Will’s stupid rap ringtone. I fumbled for it in my pocket, trying to silence it. “Oh yeaaahhh!” Sammy yelled, hopping off his seat.

   “Don’t drop that booty booty!” the other kids sang, their hands moving up and down above their heads.

   “Oh no,” Chloe said through a laugh. “This is not good.”

   The ringtone continued to play. Sammy was standing to the side of the table now . . . twerking. I started to laugh, but then the ringing stopped.

   “Again,” Sammy whispered, his ass sticking out midtwerk. I chuckled as I searched everyone’s faces. The kids just smiled. Mary shook her head, giggling to herself. Dean nodded enthusiastically. “Do it.” It almost sounded like a dare.

   Then I turned to Chloe. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned, but she was smiling, too.

   The music filled the room the instant I tapped the screen. Amy and Harry got up and started dancing. “Do it!” they yelled at Sammy. Sammy smiled from ear to ear.

   Then his shirt was off.

   “No!” Chloe laughed.

   And then his shorts were gone.

   Mary’s giggle turned to a guffaw.

   “Always with the clothes off!” Chloe yelled over the music. “Dean. Do something!”

   Dean slowly stood up, a stern look on his face.

   I turned to Sammy, now completely naked. His tiny body shaking from side to side. “Drop that booty booty!”

   “You bet your ass I’m going to do something.” Dean turned his back to Mary . . . Then right as the chorus hit and the kids’ singing got louder, he stuck his ass out and copied Sammy’s dancing.

   “Oh my God!” Chloe pushed her plate aside, folded her arms on the table in front of her and dropped her head on them.

   I stroked her back and laughed as I took in the sight of her family. Even Mary got up and joined in.

   Leaning down, I whispered in her ear, “What’s wrong?”

   “They’re crazy,” she whispered back as if her answer should have been obvious.

   I leaned in closer so she could hear me. “They’re not crazy, Chloe.” I shifted my eyes and continued watching them. “They’re kind of perfect.”

   I swore I heard her say, “You’re kind of perfect,” but when I glanced back to ask her to repeat it, she was sitting up in her seat, all emotion gone.

 

   “My cheeks hurt from laughing so hard,” she said as she led me up to her room.

   It had been Dean’s idea that she show me. I’d almost high-fived him on the spot before I’d remembered that he was kind of like a dad to her and it would be a little inappropriate. I’d wanted to spend time with her alone since I’d arrived.

   She opened a narrow door on the second floor that exposed an equally narrow staircase, leading up to what I assumed was the attic. “So this is it,” she said, standing in the middle of the tiny space and motioning her hand through the air. There was a bed with a nightstand on one side pushed up against the corner, a desk, and one of those temporary wardrobes, which had a few clothes hanging in it. And about two feet of free space. The room made mine look like a mansion.

   Her laugh pulled me out of my daze. “I know it’s not much, but I survive.”

   “I know that . . . but you can’t take one of the bedrooms downstairs?”

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