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The bathroom isn’t five-star by any means, but it’s more than adequate. Two sinks, a few urinals against the wall, a toilet with a door for privacy, and dual oval mirrors wrapped in rope to go with the other western touches around the room. Everything in me begs to lock the door, but with it being the only bathroom upstairs, that doesn’t seem fair. Thankfully, the shower was built for a little privacy as well.
Constructed from barn tin, the inside wall displays hooks for towels and a shelf for my clothes. Another mirror hangs on a wall, obviously there for the wranglers who want to shave in the shower. I step in on the river rock floor. Years of sharing a bathroom with my step-brothers flash through my mind. I can’t count the times they used the bathroom while I was showering, always taking delight in my shrieks when they flushed and the water went ice cold.
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself. I note my reflection in the mirror. I exhale like a deflating balloon. “Bye-bye blondie.”
Rhett
“Are you actually cooking?” Cookie raises one eyebrow, thoroughly surprised.
“I do that sometimes.” I flip the chicken on the stove, wishing he’d drop it. “I mean, you taught me for a reason, right?”
“Yeah, so you wouldn’t starve, and so you’d have a chance at impressing girls.” I shoot him a grin and Cookie groans. “Sunny?”
“She’s hungry.” I pull the pot of pasta off the burners, ignoring the stare of not only Cookie, but the remaining guys sitting around the table.
“You could warm up some leftovers.” The heat of his stare feels a bit unrelentless.
“I could.” I check the oven to be sure the rolls are toasting. “But I felt like cooking.”
Not convinced, Cookie leans against the counter. “I talked to Santi today.”
“How is your brother?”
“He says the distraction is working well.”
It’s enough to steal my attention. “How well?”
“His blonde conspirator and her companion are on their way to Arizona with a black sedan staying on their tail.”
“Eventually they’ll catch them, and then what?” I should be more appreciative, but I need those two goons gone if I plan to keep Sunny safe.
“Santiago says he’s got some more tricks up his sleeve, don’t you worry.” Cookie tastes one of the broccoli in the dish and nods. “These days, he’s got more connections with deep pockets. They all understand about helping the helpless. You should know that better than anyone.”
In all honesty, I try not to think about that part of my life. Yeah, those older runaways were nice to me. Cooper, Evan, Aria, even Beckett, they were kind when they didn’t have to be, but it never felt like family. Maybe because I had a family, until one day… I didn’t. But Cookie talks like Santi’s forgotten ones are all my siblings in some twisted street kid fashion. It’s not his fault. He just doesn’t get it.
The water cuts off to the shower above my head. Austin and Buck exchange a smirk before he looks at me. I’m quick to look away and turn back to the cooking. She’ll be down shortly, and I made a promise I plan to keep.
Chapter 10
Sunny
H
He’s not upstairs. Not e’s not upstairs. Not in the bunkhouse kitchen or dining room. Houston sits at the table reading a discarded newspaper. My stomach protests the lack of food in its world, and he’s quick to point to the back door without breaking away from his article.
I push back the swinging door. To my surprise, I don’t find Rhett, but I do find a piece of cardboard stapled to a tree with an arrow pointing down a worn path. I wouldn’t think much of it, but scrawled in masculine writing it says, “Sunny’s dinner.”
A few butterflies flutter loose in my gut. Barely restraining a smile, I start down the path. Tall sea grasses blow in a gentle breeze on either side of the pathway. I run my fingers through them as I pass along. The cool ocean air grazes my cheeks and makes me happy I thought to dress in a hooded sweatshirt, opting for warmth instead of fashion. Maybe that’s why I covered my hair with a bandana I found in the dresser upstairs. But I know it isn’t true. Seeing my reflection had startled me. The deep red tones, though balanced by some rich dark browns, were unfamiliar and shocking. I’m not ready for the rest of them to have opinions until I have one. In my experience, men don’t handle abrupt changes in appearance with much grace.
I remember the day I came home from the salon with blonde hair. My step-brother, Anderson, started laughing so hard he fell off his stool. Tucker told me I looked like a Barbie and then tried to explain why that was good, and Dad told me I wasted my money if I thought it was going to look better. That was three men. I don’t need a whole bunkhouse full of opinions.
The path bends sharply to the left, pushing away from the ranch property. To my right, I spot a cropping of small cabins. Made from the same logs as the bunkhouse, I wonder what they’re doing out here. They’re not as well kept as the bunkhouse, shutters falling from the hinges, the roof caving in on another one, but it still begs the question, why do they exist? I follow the path a little further, though the deepening twilight has me second guessing my choices. About the time I start to doubt Rhett, I spot another cardboard sign with an arrow pointing down a second path.
I follow the directions, carefully stepping down the much less trodden path. Every step takes me lower and deeper into a cypress grove. The already dimming light cuts down to almost nothing. The roar of the ocean grows with every step I take. Finally, I push through the underbrush and pop out the other side. The expansive ocean spreads before me, sky alight with a watercolor display like I’ve never seen before. Oranges, reds, and purples bleed into each other as the last of the sun melts into the horizon. To my left, rocks hedge the way, and to my right, I find the same story. It would be a very lonely end to my little walk, but Rhett stands dead center in the cove.
He grins as he sees me for the first time, and I swear I see the word, “Wow,” form on his lips, but he never says it out loud. Instead, he calls out, “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Famished.” I pull my shoes from my feet, loving the sensation of warm sand that’s been heated by the sun.
