Songbird (A Sinclair Story #1) (5 page)

BOOK: Songbird (A Sinclair Story #1)
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“Thank you for your hospitality,” she called to
him. Whatever his end game, he was going out of his way to be kind right now.

She was too small to easily climb onto the stool
with Jewel. She tried awkwardly, but before she could even have a decent shot
at it, Nathan was back at her side. He reached out and before she could protest
lifted them both onto the soft leather surface. Melodee sighed as her aching
muscles sank into the luxury. Jewel reached out again, playing with Melodee’s
fingers, cooing her sweet baby talk. Nathan turned to grab two tins of soup, a
loaf of bread and the carton of milk.

Nathan started to talk while he expertly moved
around the dimly lit kitchen. “So tell me about yourself.” Melodee didn’t
answer, watching as he pulled out a cast iron pot which went onto the stove.

“What do you want to know?” she finally asked.

He flashed his stunning eyes in her direction. In
this light they looked more green than blue.

“Who are you? What makes you tick? How did you end
up in Doug’s car?”

Nathan’s actions stilled and his face fell as he
mentioned his friend’s name. The heaviness descended over the room, bringing
with it the renewed knowledge that two people had lost their lives tonight.

Melodee focused on his questions. For some reason
she didn’t feel like lying to Nathan, but there wasn’t much about her life that
was easy or worthy of revealing.

Nathan’s voice broke the silence. “I’ll start then.
Nathan Sinclair, twenty-three, six feet three, in my last year of a business masters
at Syracuse, but most likely will have a shot at pro basketball.” He laughed,
the deep masculine sound washing over her. “Well that’s what coach tells
everyone anyways.”

So this was the Nathan that the town raved about.
Melodee could see his athletic grace and lean but well-defined muscles were
very apparent in the fitted, long-sleeved black shirt. Yeah, with his height,
basketball made sense. He was stirring two pots, completely comfortable with
his role in the kitchen. Melodee realized he was watching her, his head tilted
to the side, his eyes lazily assessing her. His lips turned up in the corner.

“Your turn,” he ordered.

Melodee buried her face in Jewel’s black curls,
giving herself a few minutes to think.

“Melodee Lee,” she started, lifting her head. “Doug
and I live … lived … in the same building, and he demanded I drive home with
him. I’m twenty-three, five feet two, no college education and …” she
hesitated, should she reveal how she made money? It was underground, illicit,
but there was no way he could pin anything on her. “I’m an underground cage
fighter.”

She just couldn’t find the will to lie to Nathan.
Besides she wasn’t ashamed of her life, it was safe and no one controlled her.

He didn’t answer straight away, just continued
stirring the pots. Finally he turned around, a bowl in each hand. He placed one
in front of her and the other sat opposite. He quickly and without fuss
deposited sliced bread and three cups before her. One held coffee, the second
hot tea and the third cocoa.

Then he paused, both hands resting on the wooden
bench top, his muscular arms bunching up as he stared at her. His expression
was serious.

“Let me get this right,” he said slowly, “you
expect me to believe that you’re … only five feet two.” He grinned suddenly,
and Melodee almost fell off her seat. He continued to watch her.

“I’ve always enjoyed the mainstream cage fighting
scene,” he said again, the grin never leaving his face. “And I have no idea why
I believe you, but the way you move reminds me of my uncle, and he was a
boxer.”

Melodee didn’t know what to say, she honestly
thought that his reaction would be crazier, but he just accepted her words. Was
he the first person ever to see past her looks to the true nature and
capabilities she held?

“Don’t let it get cold,” he said again, pointing
toward the food.

Melodee used her free hand that wasn’t around Jewel
to pull the bowl a little closer. She grabbed the spoon sitting in it and
brought a full load to her mouth. It wasn’t boiling, so she hungrily gulped it
down, tasting a meaty vegetable flavor. As she went for seconds, Jewel captured
the spoon, pulling it to her mouth. Within seconds she was happily munching on
the end.

“That’s probably got some nice flavor, doesn’t it,
little sweet?” Melodee cooed to her. “Sorry, I don’t know if you are too young
for solid food, so a taste is all you can have.”

Another spoon was placed before her, so she didn’t
have to steal back from Jewel. For a rich, privileged jock Nathan was amazingly
considerate. Again Melodee wondered what his story was. They ate in silence,
and Melodee found herself drinking all three of the beverages. She had always
been a big fan of variety. She liked to try lots of different things.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Nathan said bluntly.

She shrugged. “I’m alone a lot, I’m fine with
silence. But if you start a conversation I’m sure I can keep up.” She gave him
a fleeting smile, and it seemed as if his eyes darkened.

“I’m sure you can,” he muttered.

Melodee was full now, so she pushed forward the
empty plate. It was hard with Jewel to wash them, but she’d hope to clean up
before she left. Although, judging by the opulence of this place, they probably
had cleaners.

“Can I ask you something?” Melodee finally said,
her thoughts unable to be contained any longer.

“Anything,” he said, “except Shakespeare. I really
have no clue what that old guy was on about.”

Melodee had to smile again, she’d probably smiled
more today than in the last few months combined. And considering she had been
in a major accident where two people lost their lives. That was … unexpected.

“Have you been able to call anyone about Doug and
the girl?”

Nathan’s face hardened. “Lines are down and cell
reception seems to be knocked out completely. Trust me, I have a satellite
hookup and I’m getting nothing.”

Melodee’s voice lowered. “I hate thinking of them
out there in the cold.”

“I know. Doug had a loud mouth, but he was a good
man deep down and … shit … I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Jewel turned then, rubbing her eyes, and buried her
face in Melodee’s shoulder.

“Little girl is tired again,” Nathan said,
straightening to grab the empty bowls.

Melodee jumped off the chair, landing lightly and
barely jostling the child cuddled in her arms.

“I wonder if Jewel has any family that are missing
her?” she said.

Dammit, why did it feel so right hugging her into
her shoulder? She could not get attached. She had to keep reminding herself
that the moment the storm was over, someone would be coming to find her. And
Melodee had lost enough, her heart was battered and bruised; there may have
even been a few cracks on it. She couldn’t lose anything else.

Nathan was suddenly at her side. “As soon as the
storm dies out, I’ll call in the forces. We will find her family.”

They moved back toward the room with the fire. “And
what happens if she has none?” Melodee busted out. The foster system made her
want to hyperventilate. She knew lots of children got lucky, but that wasn’t
her experience.

Nathan must have caught the catch in her voice, he
reached out and brushed a hand down Jewel’s back. “I guess we deal with that if
it happens. My family is very powerful, we have lots of contacts, and I can
make sure she finds a good home.”

“And what if I want to keep her?” Melodee cursed
herself as soon as the words left her mouth. Had she suddenly gone crazy? She
reminded herself again; she had no education, no home, nothing to offer Jewel.
Okay, not technically true, she could offer love and safety, and they were
important factors too.

“I’m not sure cage fighting is a suitable
occupation on the adoption check list.” Nathan’s tone was light. “But something
tells me that if you’re determined, nothing will stop you.”

His hand, which had been resting on Jewel’s back,
moved to grip Melodee’s wrist. “And I’ll help you in any way I can.”

 
 
 
 
 

Chapter 4

 
 

Holy shit.

Nathan
wondered if he was losing his mind. Did he just seriously offer to help Melodee
out with adopting Jewel? Damn, they weren’t even sure that the kid had no
family, but something about Melodee turned him into a mindless dick. He was all
gallant, wanting to save her, rescue abandoned children and probably wrestle
wolves or something equally asshole worthy. It had to be Melodee, there was
something so unique about her. She had what his gran liked to call ‘that
special something’. It was women like Melodee who got his socialite mother’s
bitch claws out: intelligent and effortlessly beautiful, no need for make-up,
Botox, or whatever other shit women pumped into themselves.

Nowadays,
Nathan avoided those women; they were more trouble than they were worth. Not to
say he hadn’t taken advantage of their numerous offers over the years. Shit,
they threw their underwear at him when he took the court in the big games.
Though he never understood why the fuck women thought he’d want their
underwear. But lately he hadn’t been able to stomach the drama that came with
college girls. He was in his longest stint alone and his teammates joked he was
going to lose his slam dunk title. But scoring on the court was starting to
feel more important than scoring off it.
       

“So
tell me about cage fighting?” he found himself asking.

Despite
the fragile air Melodee wore and the way this aroused his fiercely protective
instincts toward her, he actually thought the fact she was a fighter was sexy
as hell. He was pretty familiar with the cage fighting scene. One of his old
friends, Mark Martini, owned a string of clubs through Manhattan and he liked
to dabble in part of the underground fight circuit. Nathan often attended the
events but he had never participated, despite the fact he was trained in
Brazilian
jujitsu
and was a black
belt. And he had never seen Melodee there, he would have remembered her for
sure. He wondered if Mark had heard of her.
     

“I
like the anonymity, I like the money, and I’m good,” she said simply. Jewel was
asleep over her shoulder, Nathan wanted to offer to take the weight from her,
but he knew she would refuse.

“I
get that, but how did you even get involved?”

“I
don’t really remember,” Melodee said, her brow wrinkling. “I started after I
left my last foster home at sixteen, I think. I needed money and fighting was
my only real skill.”

He
had never been so curious about a person before. She was clean cut, her clothes
were expensive and quality. Not to mention she had all of her teeth, an
unbroken nose and spoke with intelligence. Not your typical cage fighter. In
the front room the fire had died off a little so Nathan threw more of the cut
logs on top. As he turned, he noticed Melodee had placed Jewel back into her
seat.
   

“It’s
the safest sleep surface we have for her at the moment,” she explained.

Nathan
nodded. He didn’t have a clue there were unsafe sleep surfaces, unless you
counted the edge of a cliff. Any kid left with him would be lucky to survive.
Although he could phone his old nanny, she’d pretty much raised the boys.

The
howls of the wind rose then. Nathan could almost feel the cabin shaking from
the foundation up. This was an epic storm, and Mother Nature could be a real
bitch when she was riled up. He hoped his brothers weren’t lost in this shit.
Most likely they’d decided it was safer to stay wherever they’d been. He also
hated that Doug and the unknown girl were still out there. It felt wrong to
leave them behind, even though there was no helping them anymore.

Melodee
interrupted him. “Are you okay, Nathan?” Her sapphire eyes examined him
closely.

“Call
me Nate,” he said with a grin. “Just thinking about Doug and worrying about my
brothers. They were supposed to meet me out here to help with the storm prep.”

He
noticed her forehead crinkle, and figured she too couldn’t stop thinking about
the car accident and the end result for Doug and Jewel’s mother, and hoped
nothing like that had happened to his brothers. “Don’t stress, they’re pretty
unreliable assholes, they probably forgot.”

“So
there are four of you?” Melodee asked as she sank into the couch.

She
looked stiff and Nathan knew she would be sporting injuries from the crash, but
he also knew she would not be keen on his offer of help. Nathan was a take-control
kind of man, but Melodee wore her independence like body armor.

“Yep,
Matty is the oldest, Charlie next, then me, and the baby is Luke.”

Melodee’s
eyes widened. “Shit. I’m guessing your house was pretty noisy growing up. Your
poor mother.”

Nathan’s
features hardened, his eyes growing cold. “I wouldn’t worry about her. She
wasn’t around much after Luke was born.”

Melodee
continued to stare at him with her witch eyes. Nathan shifted. He felt as if
she could see right through him and there was some shit he wanted to stay
buried.

He
changed the subject. “So where are your parents?”

“Dead,”
she said flatly.

Fuck
.
He waited for further clarification, but none was forthcoming.

“Sorry
to hear that,” he said, to break the awkward moment.

Melodee
shrugged. “I wouldn’t waste a second of sorrow on them. They were just really
good actors pretending to be parents.”

She
said it matter of fact, but Nathan could see that she had shut down. Her face
had been open and expressive before and now it was cold and reserved. Just like
with him, her family was not a happy topic. But Nathan had always had his
brothers, and growing up his grandparents had been stable and loving
influences. It seemed as if Melodee had no one. Well, she’d mentioned no one
but her sister, and he had a terrible feeling that had been another tragedy in
her young life.

“Nate!”

They
both startled at the shout from the doorway.

“Where
are you, Slam Dunk?”

Melodee
shifted, leaning over to check on Jewel. “Not Miguel I’m guessing.” Her brows raised
as a burly man dashed into the room.

He
tackled Nathan. “Why don’t you answer your phone, dickhead? I tried to call
until the service was knocked out.”

Nathan
twisted where he stood and managed to get Charles into a headlock.

“Melodee,
meet my brother Charlie,” he growled.

Charles
threw his elbows back, freeing himself. The snow which had coated his jacket
and stylish sandy brown hair flew as he spun to see the other occupants in the
room. Melodee had straightened as he took two steps toward her. He was around
the same height as Nathan.

“Well,
holy shit damn.” He had very light sky-blue eyes, friendly and curious. He
reached out, and before Melodee could stop him, grasped her hand in his much
larger one. “I’m Charles, a very eligible bachelor, rich, talented … are you
single?”

Melodee
couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping her. Normally she’d hate his style of
over-confident arrogance, but for some reason Charles made it seem charming. He
leaned close and she knew he was going to kiss her cheek, but before he could
pull her into his body, Nathan was between them.

“No,”
he said. He had his finger pointed at his brother and his voice was harsh, his
aqua eyes as hard as little chips of ice. “Back up on her or I will break you.”

Charles
just shoved Nathan to the side. “You don’t own her, little bro. I’ll greet her
any way I want.”

“Nobody
owns me,” Melodee said, pulling her hand free.

“And
she’s a fighter, with the ability to kick your ass,” Nathan warned, moving to
stand closer to Melodee.

Charles’
grin grew even larger. “You might be my dream girl. Which basketball team do
you follow?”

Melodee
shook her head. “Never seen a game.”

Charles
gasped, taking a step back, one hand on his chest. “You have got to be kidding.
We are going to change that immediately.”

“Did
you not notice the massive snowstorm?” Nathan said, interrupting. “How the hell
did you get here?”

Nathan
was pissed. And Charles was doing nothing out of the ordinary. But the moment
he’d turned his legendary charm toward Melodee, Nathan had had to stop himself
from punching his brother out. God knows why he was suddenly so possessive of
this woman. Generally he didn’t give a shit, using females for what they
offered and walking away the next morning. But something about Melodee felt
different.

 
“I hooked up the plow to my truck,” Charles
said. “We had to make sure you and Miguel were alright out here. Matty and Luke
are at my house.”

“Melodee
was in an accident on the edge of the embankment. Doug was driving.” Nathan
lowered his voice. “Do you have phone service?”

Charles
shook his head. “It cut out when I was about half-way here.”

“Doug
and the other driver are dead,” Melodee cut in. “We need to get some help here.
Can we get out with your truck?”

“Shit.”
Charles’ handsome features creased. “I barely got through, even with the plow.
There’s no way we’d get out now.” A small cry had everyone’s eyes shifting
toward the carrier on the floor. “There’s a friggin’ baby in that carrier.”
Charles took a step closer.

“You
were always the smart one,” Nathan said drily. “We’ve been trying for hours to
figure out what this tiny little creature was. A baby, good to know.”

Charles
shot him a dirty look, and followed it with a jab to the arm. “No need to be a
smartass.” He dropped down next to the sleeping baby girl.

“Is
she yours?” he asked. When Melodee shook her head, the skin around his eyes
furrowed.

“Her
mom was killed in the crash,” Nathan said.

Charles
reached out and ran the tip of a finger down her cheek. Jewel yawned once
before opening up her eyes.

“Hello,
darlin’, Uncle Charlie is going to make sure nothing bad happens to you,” he
said without taking his eyes off of her. She blinked a few times and went back
to sleep.

Melodee
noticed that his features were hard, despite his gentle tone.

“We
call her Jewel,” she said, not totally sure where the tension came from.

Charles
nodded. “I never had much interest in children, but recently … well, things
have changed. That name is perfect. Precious Jewel.”

Nathan
focused on his brother for a moment. Something had been going on with him for a
while now. Charles had always been the lighthearted one, but there was a
darkness hovering around him at the moment. He’d disappeared a few months ago
and wouldn’t say where he’d been. Nathan hadn’t pushed it, but if Charles
didn’t get his shit together soon he was going to start asking some questions.

“Alright,
I know there’s been a few tragic things happen today, but we need something to
take our minds off it.” Charles straightened, a grin replacing the serious
face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So what should we do to pass the
rest of the day?”

Nathan
knew he was right, they needed a distraction from the worry and grief. Melodee
shifted before glancing between the brothers. “I think I have an idea.” She
raised her brows and Nathan had a feeling things were about to get interesting.

 

Melodee let out a peal of
laughter. She hadn’t fought just for fun in so long.

“Oh
for fuck’s sake,” Charles groaned, coughing a few times from where he was
sprawled on the ground. Normally Melodee would have to pound on him again for
dropping the F bomb. It was her mother’s favorite curse and she hated it. Even
worse than her father’s word of choice which started with a c.

“Where
did you grow up? Some type of compound for fighting monks?” Charles’ coughing
turned to wheezes as he pulled himself to a sitting position. “Why have you not
stepped in, Nate? You’re the one with the black belt.”

Melodee,
who was standing over Charles after knocking him down, spun her head to observe
Nathan. She would have thought he was a little muscled to be very proficient in
her style of fighting, which favored
Kung
Fu
, but he did possess the same confident movements, like her parents,
holding himself in a manner where she knew he could look after himself.

Melodee
found herself taunting him. “You’re not scared, are you, Nathan?”

For
some reason, being stuck here, unable to escape had her relaxing. She liked the
Sinclair brothers, especially Nathan, with his piercing aqua eyes, tattoos, and
body to tempt a saint. She might be a loner, but she was definitely no saint.
And it was fun to play-fight. She was going about only forty percent at
Charles, and she could tell he was no stranger to a brawl, but his style was
less about trained technique and more reminiscent of a good street battle.

“I’m
not going to fight for two reasons,” Nathan drawled. “I would rather watch my
brother get his ass handed to him by a five-feet nothing slip of a girl.” He
straightened and focused all of his attention on her and Melodee felt her blood
start to pump as adrenalin flooded her system. Following that was an arousal
stronger than she’d ever felt. She caught herself as her knees buckled
slightly. What the hell was it about Nathan that made her want to follow him
around like a damn dog? “And … I don’t hit girls. Ever.” By the time he said
this, he was again in her personal space. And for the first time in her life
she didn’t mind. In fact, she was fighting to urge to pull him closer.

BOOK: Songbird (A Sinclair Story #1)
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