y-aaah!” Estella let out a shriek as her foot sank right through a rotten plank, and she began to topple over.
With lightning reflexes, I reached out and grabbed her firmly by the waist with both hands before she could fall over and twist her ankle. On instinct, she grabbed a fistful of my shirt to stabilize herself.
“Oh my gosh!” Estella released my shirt and opened up her hand to show me two buttons resting in her palm. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to break your buttons off! I feel awful! I can sew them back for you if you have a sewing kit.”
But I wasn’t even listening to her as I pulled her to me, my hands still wrapped tightly around her waist. That’s when she noticed the embrace; that’s when her eyes fluttered to my face and then to my lips, and when her entire face turned pink again.
My breath hitched as I felt her pulse speed up. The silence grew between us as my eyes wandered over the long waves of her hair that I wanted to tangle my fingers up in, to the amber eyes that I wanted to look into for hours, and then finally to those pink lips that I wanted to taste so bad.
Every single part of me wanted to entangle itself with Estella, and I could tell from the way her body was tensed against mine that she wanted me just as much. Her lips were parted, as though waiting for me to make a move, and there was nothing stopping me from leaning in a few inches and tasting that pretty mouth of hers.
But all of a sudden, Estella pulled away and her eyes darted away from mine. My stomach unclenched and I felt like I could breathe again.
What the hell was wrong with me? I’d almost kissed Estella when I’d been determined to put distance between us. I was losing my damn mind!
Estella’s face was still bright pink and she began to scratch at her left arm. “Um, do you have a, uh, sewing kit?”
I shook my head because words weren’t forming right now.
“Okay, well, I’ll just, um, go back to the house now. Dylan’s probably wondering where we are.”
Without another word, Estella moved past me and left me standing alone. It was pretty clear she couldn’t wait to get away from me. I couldn’t blame her. I wanted to get away from myself too.
Chapter Eleven
Estella
Despite Vincent telling me that they didn’t have a sewing kit in the house, Dylan had managed to find one and talked Vincent into changing his shirt before he’d left to meet up with the rest of the Madden gang.
Clearly, the sewing kit hadn’t been used in years, but it would do for the two buttons I needed to sew back on. Since it wasn’t a particularly cold afternoon, I’d decided to sit out on the front porch to get some fresh air as I sewed the darn buttons back on. Dylan was inside finishing up his homework assignment and keeping an eye on the Bolognese sauce that was simmering on low heat.
And Vincent was right. You could hear the faint trickle of the creek from the porch. It was calming and was really helping with my nerves that had gone haywire when Vincent had touched me.
The memory of how I’d grabbed onto Vincent’s shirt was still fresh in my mind. Could I be any clumsier? I’d managed to break a wooden plank and Vincent’s buttons in one smooth second. And, gosh, the way he’d held me in his arms, well, I couldn’t really describe it. No one had ever held me like that before.
It was hard for me to admit that Vincent made me feel safe and that I actually felt safe in his home. Sure, a part of was still terrified of being caught in the middle of a drive-by crossfire, but my nerves were calming down now that I had fallen into a routine with the two brothers. There was a serenity here that was lacking in my own home. I didn’t feel safe there. I hadn’t in years.
I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I had been wrong about Vincent. I had judged him without really knowing him. He had a side to him that many people rarely saw—the compassionate, caring side that only came out when he was with Dylan had peeked out at me today when he’d shown me the creek.
The sound of an approaching engine disturbed the peace, and I glanced up expectantly as I waited for Vincent’s bike to come around the corner.
Yet, what I was hearing wasn’t a bike; it was a car. Was Vincent expecting someone?
Putting the shirt aside, I rose to my feet and waited.
A couple of seconds later, an unfamiliar truck came around the corner and gave two loud honks. It slowed to a stop just as Dylan tore out of the house and ran past me down the steps.
“Tyson! Ryder!” Dylan called out as two guys got out of the truck.
“Hey, Kid.” The guy that’d spoken was well-built—he was more muscular than Vincent—and bore such a striking resemblance to Vincent that I knew right away that this was his older brother.
The other guy didn’t look very much like either Vincent or Dylan but he shared the same dark hair as Vincent and the other brother. He wasn’t as muscular either; his body was leaner and lankier.
“Tyson, did you bring me back anything?” Dylan fell into step with the lankier brother and looked up at him expectantly.
Feeling uncomfortable, I bent over to pick up Vincent’s shirt, the needle and thread, and the small sewing box Dylan had found. My ears were still entirely focused on the conversation Dylan was having with his brothers.
“Kid, we were doing business,” the other brother—Ryder, I assumed—said. “We ain’t got time to buy presents.”
Dylan’s face fell and Tyson tousled Dylan’s hair in a way of apology. Ryder’s gaze fell on me as I stood on the front porch, and his face pinched in suspicion as the three of them reached me.
“Who the hell is this?” he demanded.
The way he scrutinized me made me feel small and helpless. There was a look in his eyes that terrified me, like he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through my head. This wasn’t someone you messed around with. Authority was oozing from every pore in his body. This man was an Alpha.
Dylan bounded forward and stood in front of me, acting as a buffer. “She’s my tutor.”
Ryder didn’t respond, but his mouth tightened as he strode up the steps and walked inside the house. I flinched when the door slammed shut behind me.
Tyson shot me a look of interest, his eyes travelling the length of my body, but didn’t acknowledge me either before he also went inside. A chill ran down my spine when I noticed the handgun in his back pocket.
When Dylan turned to me, he looked sad. My fear quickly dissipated at his change in mood and I held out a hand for him to take.
“Should I stay out here?” I asked in a quiet voice.
The Madden brothers hadn’t acknowledged me, and I was a little worried about going inside with them there. Sure, I had been inside plenty of times, but I felt like I had fallen to the bottom of the hierarchy somehow.
“No, it’s fine,” Dylan assured me, leading me back into the house. “Vin will be here soon. He’ll take care of everything. He always does.”
That didn’t reassure me a whole lot. Vincent barely acknowledged my existence either, except for this afternoon, so I didn’t see how he would make everything better. For a split second, I seriously considered digging my heels into the ground and refusing to go inside, but I reluctantly followed Dylan anyway.
The aromatic smell of my Bolognese sauce greeted us as we entered the hallway and went into the kitchen. My heart sank when I saw the two brothers hovering around the stove. Ryder had removed the lid of the pot and was sniffing at the contents.
It was like he’d never seen Bolognese sauce before.
“What’s this?” Ryder asked, glaring at the pot.
“Estella’s making spaghetti Bolognese,” Dylan said; the excitement was clear in his voice. “I’ve never had a homemade one before. The one we usually get from—”
Ryder directed his glare at me. “Estella.” His expression was sour, as though my name tasted bitter in his mouth. “Why is she making food? I thought she was your tutor.”
I think it finally dawned on Dylan that his brother wasn’t sharing his enthusiasm. Tyson was leaning against
