Tied Bond (Bonded Duet 2)

I stood in my doorway to my bedroom and stared at the mostly empty space. The bare essentials were there—a bed, a set of drawers, a blind on the window—but what had made this my bedroom for the last twenty-one years of my life was missing. A lump built in my throat at the sight of it, and even though I knew I was moving on to better things with my life, I couldn’t deny I was sad.

So much had changed in such a small space of time, and although a part of me wanted it all to slow down, the other part was excited for the ride ahead. I’d created my own little family. And even though the road hadn’t been easy, it was worth it. It would always be worth it to be with Ford.

“I remember the first time you wanted to paint this bedroom,” Dad’s voice said from behind me, and I turned around. His face was carefully masked, not an emotion in sight, and then his gaze met mine. His dark-brown eyes were the same shade as Asher’s, and there was so much swirling inside of them, I wondered how he managed to keep it all inside and not let it all out.

“You were eight.”

I grinned at his words because I remembered the conversation like it happened just yesterday. “I wanted to paint it black.”

Dad chuckled. “And your mom refused. She said it wasn’t appropriate for a young girl to have a black bedroom.”

I stared at the lone black wall I’d managed to talk her into a year later. “We compromised.”

“You sure did.” He stepped closer to me and placed his arm around my shoulders. “You knew your own mind even back then.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Don’t ever doubt yourself, baby girl. You know what you want, and you’re not afraid to go after it. I’m proud of you for that.”

“You are?”

“Yep.” He pulled me closer to him, and I went willingly. There was nothing that compared to when your dad hugged you. “I admire you for what you’ve done, and the shit you’ve come through. It takes strength, and you should never be ashamed of that strength.” His chest heaved as he took a breath. “And I know you’ll pass that strength on to Leo too. He’s lucky to have a mom like you.”

The lump that had been forming in my throat grew to impossible sizes, and then the tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t stop them, but I didn’t want to stop them. His words meant more than he realized because I’d been doubting myself at every opportunity.

“Belle? Brody?” Mom’s voice called, and we both turned to see her halt at the top of the stairs. “There you are. Ford has just left with the last of Leo’s things, and—Belle? Are you crying?”

“No.” I swiped my arm over my face, trying to get rid of the evidence. “I have allergies.”

“In December? Two days before Christmas?”

I shrugged, acting like I had no idea what she was insinuating. “Yeah?”

She shook her head and reached for me, peeling me out of Dad’s embrace. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’ll only be a couple of streets away.”

“I know.” She smoothed my hair down and pulled back, placing her hands on my shoulders. “But it won’t be the same.” She flicked her gaze up to Dad and then back to me. “I think we should create a plan.”

“A plan?”

She nodded, her face a serious mask. This wasn’t her mom face, but her teacher face. And her teacher face meant business. “Yeah. I think we should have our grandbaby one night a week.”

My breath whooshed out of me. “Mom—”

“And Lottie too,” Dad interjected from beside us. “The only time she gets bacon is when she’s here.”

I turned to face Dad and narrowed my eyes at him. It was true what they said, grandparents spoiled their grandkids, although, was Lottie even classed as that? Either way, he gave her treats when he shouldn’t. “You know she shouldn’t eat bacon.” Dad raised his brows and stared over my head, acting as if he hadn’t just heard me. I didn’t know why I kept repeating it because he never listened.

“So?” Mom asked. “What do you think?”

I opened my mouth, about to concede, but I realized it wasn’t just my decision to make. For the first time in my life, I had someone to make choices with, and it brought a smile to my face. “I’ll have to talk to Ford about it.”

Mom nodded and looked at Dad. “That’s a yes, then.”

“No.” I pulled back and started to walk down the hallway, leaving my childhood bedroom behind. “That’s an ‘I need to talk to Ford first.’”

“So a yes,” Dad replied.

“No—”

“Yes—”