Inhale the crisp air.
Best sleep I’ve had in years.
I groan as I roll over and push the pile of warm blankets aside. Forgot how nice minor comforts could be. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I stare out the window at the sunlight bursting through the trees. I sit up and walk over to the glass, admiring the view that wasn’t visible last night. Forest. Green pine trees and naked branches. A few elaborate birdhouses on tall poles right outside the window. Bright red cardinals flitting in and out.
“So you’re the soundtrack that woke me.” My mouth curves up. Best morning music I’ve had in a long time.
Inside, I find a neatly handwritten note in purple ink.
G-
We’re at the clubhouse. End of our walkway and take a left. The path will bring you straight there. You’ll pass Rock’s house on the left on your way.
Trinity
I swallow hard, appreciating the opportunity to have a few moments to myself before everyone’s in my face again. A lot of faith they have to allow an ex-con to wander around alone in their fancy house.
Now that I’m not tired and overwhelmed, I stare at the finely crafted timber and log home. Vaulted ceilings and lots of light. I run my fingers over the cool granite counter. Take in the high-end appliances.
Who knew the big brawler Rock carried to the clubhouse one afternoon would end up with such refined taste? Wrath was so hostile and angry, but underneath, I always knew he was a good kid. I spent a lot of time worrying he’d end up dead or in prison.
But he turned out okay.
Still smiling, I scoop up the clothes Wrath left for me last night and head to the bathroom to change.
When I’m ready, I follow the brief directions and find my way to the clubhouse.
Feeling like a burglar, I approach the front door. One hand’s on the knob and one’s poised to knock.
Gravel crunches behind me. “Morning, Grinder.”
I turn and find Dex walking out of one of the garages. He crosses the parking lot quickly and bounds up the steps, slapping my back in greeting. “How was your first night home?”
“Best damn sleep I’ve had in years.”
Something close to pity shines in his eyes, souring my good mood.
An irritated grunt leaves my throat, wiping the look off Dex’s face. He reaches past me and opens the front door. “They’re probably all in the dining room.”
He follows me inside. I stop, trying to orient myself in the large space. Dex jogs upstairs without offering directions and for that I’m thankful. I may have been overwhelmed yesterday, but I’m not some senile old man.
Soft, twangy notes drift down the hallway. A guitar. Too pure to be coming from the radio.
Curious, I follow the music, pushing through the wide double doors into the dining room.
A woman with long blond curls is sitting in a chair with an acoustic guitar in her lap, strumming and singing.
I’m too stunned to move or breathe. What an angelic voice.
Is this the kind of girl the club attracts now, or is she someone’s ol’ lady? I can’t remember everyone I met last night. And as much as I have no interest in getting to know any woman yet, this one would’ve been hard to forget.
My gaze drops to the little kids scattered on the floor at the singer’s feet. Even tiny Grace seems enchanted by the music, her big eyes keenly fixed on the singer. The woman’s not singing them some Old MacDonald bullshit, either. It’s something more grown-up and complicated about being saved from drowning.
Trinity spots me and waves. “Morning, Grinder.”
I make my way over to where she’s seated with Heidi, Hope, Lilly, and Charlotte. At least, I think I remembered all their names.
When the girl finishes her song, the kids clap and jump around, begging for more.
“Give Aunt Shelby a break.” Heidi reaches for Alexa, pulling her into her lap.
“Come here, Chance. Say good morning to Uncle Grinder.” Lilly gestures to me.
Chance—such a cute little shit—races over to me. “Morning!”
“Hey, little guy.” Shit, he already reminds me an awful lot of Z.
“Morning” Alexa chirps from her mother’s lap.
The blonde approaches me slowly.
“Hello,” she says in a soft Texan drawl.
I nod to the guitar in her hands. “You’re fantastic. You should be a singer.”
She blushes and ducks her head. “Thank you. That’s very sweet.”
The girls give each other nervous looks, like they know something I don’t know and are afraid of offending me.
Heidi squeezes Shelby’s hand. “Shelby’s a country singer. She just finished touring—”
“Pssh.” Shelby waves off Heidi’s explanation.
I’m getting the feeling Heidi’s trying to hint that Shelby’s someone I should’ve heard of. “Sorry, I’m not exactly up on—”
“Rooster’s my old man,” Shelby says, smoothing over the awkward moment with pure class. “We arrived real late last night. I’m sorry we missed ya.”