Page 66 of Little Bird
Something inside me dies a little bit, because it’s not Gabe coming back for me at all, but then I catch the glint in her eye and feel myself grinning in response.
Hey, I can’t help it. You see a girl looking at you like she’s already planning the trouble you can get into together and you have an instant reaction. At least I do. That’s how I took up with Stella Fontenot, after all. She showed up one day saying that she’d been looking for a sidekick and would I watch her back while she pulled off some sort of heist that I’ve long since forgotten. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Sammy Lennon is looking at me the same way, and in the face of Gabe’s betrayal I find that a friend is the exact thing I want right now.
“Sammy,” I say, trying to curb my grin. “Got something on your mind?”
She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Several things, actually. Starting with the way my fucking cousin just blew you off.”
I jerk in surprise, violently reminded that this girl is Gabe cousin, and one he never bothered to introduce me to before I thought I knew all the people he was actually related to, but evidently that’s not true. “I’m surprise he never introduced us before, actually. Seeing as how you’re his cousin.”
She scoffs at that. “Well he’s not actually my cousin. More like my mom got married to the asshole Gunner calls brother. So I’m sort of a step-cousin, I guess. Doesn’t make me like him any more, to be honest. Come on, let’s go in here. I saw you in here before and I want some advice on books.”
She doesn’t wait for an answer, but shoves me into the door we’re passing, and within moments I find myself in the dark romance section again, giving advice to the tiny, very feisty step-cousin of my ex-stepbrother. She’s got enough fire to light the whole place up and a laugh that I can’t ignore. When I recommend a series with a particularly toxic hero, she howls like it’s the best thing she’s ever heard, and I find myself laughing back at her, both pleased and surprised.
She’s exactly like Stella. Except that she’s here and begging me for advice on books.
And I feel like the universe heard I was lonely and sent me this tiny, sassy girl to ease the pain of Gabe and Gunner both rejecting me, in one way or another.
By the time we’re done at the bookstore Sammy—or Samantha, as she tells me sorrowfully—has an armful of books and is already talking about ordering more online. “I’ve always wanted to get into dark romance, but I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it,” she says. “There’s a lack of girls our age in this town, and the boys are barely literate.”
I have to laugh at that. “I’ve noticed. Why aren’t there any girls our age here?”
She shrugs. “Something in the water, I’m guessing. Maybe the land knows it needs men to do big, manly things like chopping down those fucking trees, so it only allows males to be born here.”
Sammy Lennon is completely ridiculous.
And I adore her.
When we pass a furniture store, though, I drag my thoughts away from wondering why Gabe never introduced me to her when I lived here before and back to the larger question of the furniture business. I didn’t realize there was a furniture shop in town, but it seems like the ideal place to show off some of Gabe and Gunner’s designs.
And suddenly I want to see them.
I put the question of Sammy and my introduction to the side—because honestly, I’m guessing Gabe didn’t introduce us because he was worried about what trouble we might get into—and suggest we go into the shop.
Sammy rolls her eyes. “That place? So. Boring.”
“Yeah, but also so important,” I note. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with Gabe and Gunner’s business.
Sammy grows serious so suddenly I feel like I’ve just crossed into another dimension with a stand-in version of her, and eyes me carefully. “They’re letting you help with the business?”
“Well, not on purpose,” I say quickly. “Actually they don’t know I want to help at all. But?—”
“But it’s failing, and you think you can fix it,” she fills in. “You thinking you can fix Gunner and Gabe, too?”
Okay, this girl definitely knows more than I realized, and has a brain quick enough to see right through people. I make a note to ask her all of my questions later. Once I can get her away from town and Gabe’s prying eyes.
“I don’t think there’s any fixing those two,” I tell her frankly. “They won’t even let me in.”
She pulls her bottom lip into her teeth and stares at me for a beat too long. “And yet you’re here for Christmas. Gunner hasn’t sent you home yet. And Gabe is escorting you around town. I’m guessing you’re in deeper than you realize.” Her expression changes again, flashing back to the playful troublemaker, and she takes my hand and tugs. “Okay, I’ll endure the boredom of the furniture store for a little. But in exchange, you’re going to tell me exactly what goes on in that house when no one is watching.”
We stroll into the furniture store, and I’m met with a range of both personalized and standard furniture. Some of the stuff in here is straight out of a catalog—and not a nice one—while other pieces have been hand carved from blocks of natural wood. There are tables and chairs, couches, reading chairs, bar stools, side tables, and even a pool table, along with a number of sculptures. It’s beautiful and well displayed, and the place smells of wood and clean upholstery.
But I don’t recognize anything as Gabe or Gunner’s.
“Is the owner here?” I ask the only salesgirl I see.
“Sure, in the back,” she says, nodding toward a door that leads into a second room.
