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Tanner looked at her like she’d kicked his new puppy and let her go. Of course, Kellan was seething. His dark eyes narrowed into slits and he opened his mouth to say something, but with a shake of his head, Matthew stopped him. Only Grams showed Arien any compassion at all. But then she had to understand. She was an outsider once, yet she chose to marry into their fucked-up way of life.
Grams gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “I’ll just go get Tanner’s cake from the kitchen.”
Wrapping herself in a cozy throw, Arien watched the snow gently fall outside the window. Thinking back to their Stepford-perfect town, she’d known something was off. All those beautiful people, yet not one couple strolled together holding hands. Me and Tanner. Mom and Matthew. She should’ve noticed that. But then who would expect the crazy-ass Sister Wives shit going on here?
Was this some weird religion? A cult? A strange secret society?
You’ve seen too many movies, Arien.
Regardless, it didn’t have anything to do with her anyway. They could do whatever the hell they wanted in their big houses behind that goddamned gate, come August she’d be gone. The sad thing was, Arien was starting to like it here. To feel like she had a real family. To feel like this was home.
And then there was Tanner. Her new best friend. Kellan. He was a cranky-butt, always trying to get a rise out of her, but still, she’d come to care for them both. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, to lose them would be the saddest thing of all.
There was a soft tap on her door. Composing herself, she swiped at her eyes. Tanner came in and took a seat beside her at the window. He was silent for a few moments. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her close, and together they just watched the snow fall.
“I’m sorry.”
Not sure what to say, Arien laid her head against his shoulder.
“Talk to me, pretty girl.” Fingers combed her hair. “I need to know what you’re feelin’.”
“I don’t know.”
“I can’t have you hatin’ me.” Tanner lifted her onto his lap. “Please, don’t judge us for something you don’t understand yet.”
“Are you and Kellan going to share a wife?”
“Yes.”
She nodded once. Emotion stinging the tip of her nose, a sardonic laugh escaped. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
He didn’t answer.
But those green eyes of his, silvery and shining, spoke volumes.
With the cozy throw wrapped tighter about her, Arien stepped out onto the balcony. White and bright, the snowy landscape glowed with the tint of a movie screen. Silence isn’t quiet—her heart thundered, the stream trickled, a horse nickered, and the wingbeat of an owl thumped as it swooped into the night.
It was strange to think only a week ago, she’d been surrounded by boxes in their little apartment back in Denver. Her nostalgia for it already fading, Arien pondered. Maybe home really wasn’t a place, but rather a feeling. And it was that feeling she couldn’t let go of.
No one was in the kitchen when Arien came down the stairs and poured herself a cup of coffee. Mid-morning, the boys should be back from chores by now. After last night, she didn’t doubt they were making themselves scarce. Avoiding her. She was actually quite surprised when Emily texted she was coming by to pick her up to go to Jackson.
One sip of coffee had her near sputtering. Arien spat it into the sink. Bitter and burnt, it must’ve been left to warm in the pot for hours now. She made a fresh one. Not for herself so much—there was a precious Starbucks in Jackson—but for when Tanner and Kellan got home. So focused on the task, she didn’t hear Emily come in.
“Boo.”
Coffee grounds went flying. “Shit, you scared me.”
“Didn’t mean to.” Emily giggled, sweeping up the mess. “Where is everybody?”
“Dunno. Staying far away from me, I guess.”
“Doubt that.” She tsked, giving her long, dark waves a shake. “Maybe giving you a little space. Some time to process, yeah?”
“That could be, I suppose.” Arien half shrugged, pressing the start button on the coffee maker.
“It is, trust me,” Emily assured her, and pushed her out the door. “C’mon, we can talk in the car.”
She drove a convertible. The top was up, being it was only twenty-seven degrees. Still, it wasn’t the type of vehicle Arien assumed Emily would have. A Jeep, maybe, but not a little two-seater.
