Undefeated (Unexpected Book 5) (12 page)

T
he first step has been taken. I have a job. That should give me some work experience, a place to start and build from. Green Blooms Boutique hired me with some odd hours to fill. From two to eight in the morning during the week and eight to two every other Saturday. The hours sound like a killer, but I don’t sleep more than five hours at night. If I switch my habits and go to bed at the same time as my children, it’ll all work out.

As I park the car outside of my aunt’s house, I spot her cleaning her flowerbeds while Finn sits next to her. I search around for Harper and spot her with Porter tagging along next to her as she rides a bike. A bike? We gave hers away because it was a childish bike. The one she rides is a little bigger, but also bubble gum pink with a basket in the middle of the handlebars. Where did she find it?

Leaving the car, I realize that the bicycle doesn’t have training wheels. Wait, she doesn’t know how to ride without them. What’s going on? Staring at them, I wait until they turn around and head back my way. Harper’s eyes grow wide and her smile grows along with them. She loses her balance, but before the bike and my pretty girl take a bad hit, Porter’s hands reach for her, catching her almost in the air.

“Are you okay?” I run toward them, but Harper hasn’t lost her smile while Porter is helping her find a steady foot. “When, how?” I look at my daughter and the bike, then at the man who might have had something to do with this whole thing.

“Porter bought it, for me.” Harper gives me another round of smiles. “He taught me how to ride like a big girl.”

I check my watch. I’ve been gone for about two hours. During this time, he managed to buy a bicycle, teach my daughter how to ride it, and the best of all, make her smile. He’s like a dream.

“Okay kids, it’s time to get a snack, come with me,” My aunt yells, standing up and gathering my children. Then her attention goes back to me. “You can tell me later about your new job.” How does she know that I got it?

“So did you get it?” Porter’s low voice asks.

I nod, telling him about my crazy schedule. Then tilt my head toward the bike he holds. “Thank you, for telling me about the position . . . and the bike. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “I thought this might help her out of her funk, you know.” He gives me his typical shrug, as if saying, “I do this for everyone.” I find his actions endearing. “When I learned to ride a bike, it gave me a sense of accomplishment and pushed me to find my way for a little while.”

Wow, he’s giving me some background information and I take the chance to ask questions. “Your dad taught you?” He shakes his head. “Mom?”

“No, my mom died when I was four.” His shoulders slump and my heart hurts for him. “My big brother and my baby sister died along with her.” Oh, God, he lost his entire family. I want to open my arms for him, hug him, and tell him . . . I don’t know what, but make it better. Well, that explains why he avoids connecting with others, doesn’t it? “Nothing was easy, but everything changed when I found my foster parents. One of the things they taught me was to ride a bike—I was fourteen, but it felt good. They . . .” He goes silent, his head dropping.

Did something happen to them, too? I take a few steps closer to him. We’re so close that his deodorant is all I can smell. It’s a masculine combination that I can’t name but it makes me dizzy. “What else happened to you, Porter?” My voice comes out all breathy and wrong. What happened to the confident Mackenzie? I have no fucking idea, but whatever is going on inside me isn’t something I want to analyze.

“Me. I happened to myself,” he says and I don’t understand. He brushes a strand of hair off my face and curls it around my ear, making my entire body shiver. “Once upon a time I had everything. I was on top of the world. Lost what mattered most because of the material shit and then some more.” Some more what? He’s making zero sense. His eyes fixate on me as they start to warm up and I lose myself in them. Embraced by him I feel safe and protected, yet there’s an edge hiding inside. “I have to go to work.” He breaks the spell, turns around, and leaves toward the gas station.

I wrap my arms around myself, rubbing them to warm up from the coldness that overtook my body as he ran away.
What the hell just happened?

I want to promise you a blue sky

Promise you that nothing will touch you

I want to take the pain away

Promise you that I’ll never hurt you

But I won’t since this time I don’t want to fail

[Chorus]

Baby, nothing is perfect

Nothing is painless

But after the rain, the flowers will bloom

The pain rooted in your heart will dissipate

And only love will remain

I wish I could promise that I’ll be here for you

To hold your hand, to listen to you

But I can only promise that I’ll see you through

The storm of rain and blood

Ready to catch you, or to hold your hand

[Chorus]

Baby, nothing is perfect

Nothing is painless

But after the rain, the flowers will bloom

The pain rooted in your heart will dissipate

And only love will remain

I promise to collect each teardrop you shed

Every story you say

Every smile you gift me

Each and every memory you share

I promise to safeguard all of them next to my wounded heart

[Chorus]

Baby, nothing is perfect

Nothing is painless

But after the rain, the flowers will bloom

The pain rooted in your heart will dissipate

And only love will remain

I watch Porter from the window, as he finally finishes the song. Now I believe that he’s also a songwriter. This is the fourth day he’s been working on that song. Instead of heading to bed to be ready for work, I stay awake until he gives up and heads back inside the house. Yesterday when it was raining, he did it from his room, which happens to share a wall with mine. Whoever inspires his lyrics is a lucky person. The more time passes, the more I want to know about him. The less he speaks, the more my curiosity piques.

Harper, who doesn’t take well to strangers, is starting to warm up to him. Finn follows him around everywhere. They communicate through music and head nods and I want to kiss him for trying so hard to spark something inside my son. There’s just something about Porter that . . . I can’t find the words yet, but something about him calls to me.

There’s so much more I have to learn about him. He intrigues me. In only a few weeks, I’ve developed this inexplicable need to be close to him. Am I attracted to him? I don’t know if I can think that far ahead. His deep, smoldering eyes could melt anyone into a puddle of goo. He’s handsome and he has a heavenly voice I could always listen to.

Porter could be a heartthrob anyone could watch serenading thousands of fans from afar while he’s playing on stage. The question remains, though, who is Porter?

A
s I watch Harper ride her bike and Finn his scooter, I spot a black sedan approaching my aunt’s driveway. A lady with silver hair and a pair of trendy sunglasses honks twice and waves the moment my aunt comes outside her house.