Page 151 of Songbird: Black Kite
Hawk
Present
“Youhavepalmtreesin your yard?”
I laughed, shaking my head at Cooper’s exuberance. She’d been going out of her mind since the moment we closed her suitcase and headed out of Grand Rapids. Bouncing from one thing to another, it was like she simply couldn’t contain herself, and her joy was infectious.
“I mean, they’re across the highway, not in my yard, but I guess.”
“If you can see them from the house, it counts,” she said definitively, and I guessed that was that.
Standing on the small driveway of my Santa Monica beach house, I smiled as Cooper and Wren climbed out of the SUV, their eyes wide as they stared around. When we’d landed back at the private airstrip at Van Nuys, I’d instructed Charlie to drive us to this place instead of my house in Beverly Hills. When I’d made the request, Charlie had stared at me, one eyebrow raised, but he didn’t question my decision.
Which was good, because I couldn’t have explained that shit if I’d tried. There was just something about the idea of Wren and Cooper in that house—the same house I’d lived in with Tori—that rubbed me the wrong way. Thinking of my girls there, surrounded by furnishings that Tori had picked, sleeping in rooms she’d lived in, actually made me physically ill.
So, while I had several properties around southern California, this was the one I’d chosen. The place was big enough, I figured, and it was right on the beach, which was novel. I wasn’t sure about privacy, but at this point, none of the paparazzi expected us to be in California, so that might buy us some time.
“This place is very large, Hawk,” Wren said, her voice quiet as she stared at the house. “Four stories? What could you possibly need all that space for?”
Awkwardly rubbing the back of my neck, I shrugged. “It was a good investment.”
She nodded, but I didn’t think she believed me.
The truth was, I barely visited any of my properties. Mick had hooked us all up with a money manager who talked a lot of shit about diversifying portfolios and whatever. The only properties I owned that I truly cared about were the ones in my mom’s neighborhood, and—if the look on Cooper’s face was any indication—this one.
“Well, there’s more to see than just the driveway,” I said, pressing the button to close the gate and ushering them toward the house. “Let’s go.”
“There are so many stairs!” Cooper exclaimed, dashing up the first flight and leaving Wren and me behind. “Which one is my room?”
“I’m sorry,” Wren said when we reached the kitchen. “She’s normally got better manners than that. She’s just really excited.”
“Bird, I want her to be excited,” I said, smiling at her. “And she should pick a room. This is her home just as much as it’s mine.” Taking her hand, I drew Wren toward me, loving the way she fit so perfectly in my arms. “It’s your home, too, you know? I want you both to be comfortable here.”
“I know,” was all she said.
“How many balconies do you have?” Cooper burst into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed. “It’s like I can see the entire ocean from every room in the house! I’ve never seen that much water in one place!”
“Just wait until the sun sets and you can see the lights from the Ferris wheel.”
“No way!” With that, she left the kitchen and headed out onto the deck that overlooked Santa Monica State Beach. “Can we go, mom? Please? Can we go to the Ferris wheel?”
Wren looked at me, her face concerned, and I got it.
“I’d love to take you, kid. But we should probably wait a bit for the press stuff to blow over.” When Cooper’s face fell into a pout, I hurried to add, “It won’t be forever. Once some of the excitement has died down about everything, then we’ll make arrangements, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I’m gonna go get a selfie in my new room.” And then she was gone again, her feet pounding up the stairs to the third floor.
“I should probably get settled in my room, too,” Wren said, and just the idea of sleeping in this house with her in a separate bedroom had my guts clenching.
“There are three bedrooms on the third floor,” I started cautiously. “And the master is on the top floor. A fully private suite with its own deck and everything. You can have that one, if you like.”
“I’m not going to kick you out of your own room, Hawk.”
“I don’t sleep here enough to have an attachment to any of them,” I answered honestly, and her face fell. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but it didn’t look good.
“I’ll be fine in one of the guest rooms. Thanks, though.” And with that, I stood and watched her disappear up the stairs, taking my whole heart with her.
I couldn’t seem to get a handle on Wren and her feelings. Back at her place, she’d been all too eager to agree to try with me, but ever since we’d boarded the plane in Duluth, she’d withdrawn again, guarding herself behind a wall of ice that I couldn’t seem to find a way around.
