Page 11 of Beautifully Broken Control

Jensen’s voice shook me from my thoughts. “Sorry, what?”

A little furrow appeared between her brows. “I asked if you could come to dinner on Wednesday.”

I searched for an excuse, but I wasn’t quick enough.

Jensen’s lips tipped up. “You can.”

I twisted the rag in my fingers. “I don’t know, J. It sounds like a family thing.”

She wrapped an arm around me. “You’re family.”

My cheeks heated. I wasn’t. I was the hanger-on. The awkward addition that people felt bad for. “It’s really fine. I’ve been working a ton, and it’ll be nice to just have a night off to relax.”

J gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Nope. No arguments. I’ll pick you up at five.” She paused. “Plus, Cain’s hot. Maybe you two will hit it off.”

My body stiffened.

“Jensen,” Walker warned.

J released her hold on me and shrugged. “What? I’m stupidly happy and in love. Is it so wrong I want everyone else to be, too?”

My face got hotter. “That’s not really something I’m looking for right now, J.” Lie. Total and complete lie. I wanted a partner, a family, somewhere to belong. I longed for it more than my next breath.

Walker cleared his throat. “It’s not a good idea.”

J studied her brother. “He’s had girlfriends. I’ve seen him with them in the papers when he goes to all those fancy shindigs.”

Walker shook his head. “Yeah, but have you seen those women more than once or twice?”

Jensen began putting the cash from the register into a zippered pouch. “He just needs to meet the right woman. One who’s not after his money.”

Well, I certainly wouldn’t be after that. I knew the one thing money did above all others. It corrupted.

“Little J, you need to let that alone.” Walker pinned Jensen with a hard stare. “You know why.”

Jensen’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, fine. I won’t meddle.”

“Thank you.” He brushed a kiss to the top of his sister’s head. “I gotta head back to the station, but I’ll see you ladies Wednesday night.”

I lifted a hand in a wave. It would be fine. It was just one dinner.

* * *

“See you next week, Annabeth.”I waved to the golden-haired girl as her mother helped her into their minivan. I double-checked the door on the small ballet studio and headed for my bike. Dance had been one of the few things my mother and I had agreed on when I was growing up. And I was especially grateful for all the lessons now because it gave me an extra bit of employment.

I slid my bag off my shoulder and placed it in my bike basket, careful not to squish the baked goods we had left over from the Kettle that day. I strapped down my bag, my fingers dusting against the satin of my pointe shoes. I winced at the new tear that had appeared in the middle of today’s advanced class. I’d need to stitch that up before my session tomorrow.

I swung onto the bike and headed out of the parking lot. Late spring meant the smell of pine trees and no need for a jacket. I let my eyes close just for a moment as my bike coasted down the street, the sky still bright with early evening sun. I was so lucky to have landed in this place.

My eyes opened as the road dipped, and I headed downhill. The warm breeze felt heavenly now, but the trek back up would be killer. It was every night I rode this route.

I tapped on my brakes, slowing to make the turn into the Sutter Lake community center. The center held my destination for the evening: Hope House. Volunteering was something I’d done most of my life, but typically because it was a requirement of whatever private school I attended. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy offering my time, or wasn’t impacted by those I served, I just didn’t think much about how they had gotten to a place in their lives where they needed help.

I cringed. I’d been so naïve. It wasn’t until I saw up close and personal the true devastation that my father’s greed wrought that I realized thewhybehind so much of it. The reason we needed homeless shelters and so many other programs was often because some people took way more than their share. Now, I was doing all I could to help balance those scales.

But in that act, I’d fallen in love with the process. Helping others find what they needed to get back on their feet lit a fire inside me that I’d never felt before. A sense of purpose and something else I couldn’t quite name. I looked up at the center as I slowed. It was a bit run-down and could be so much more if we had the staff and funds to make it shine. Maybe one day.

I slid off my bike, taking a minute to lock it to the rack in front of the shelter’s double doors before slinging my bag over my shoulder and grabbing the baked goods from my basket. Heading inside, I felt a small twinge in my back. I’d been pushing it pretty hard lately, but every commitment I had was too important to let slide.

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