Page 29 of Jay Bird

“This is not just a house.”

He stopped in front of the garage and put the vehicle in park. “Pretty sure that’s what the paperwork called it.”

Several exterior lights illuminated the driveway, entryway, and sides of the house. From a security standpoint, she immediately appreciated how easy it was to see the property.

From a decorating standpoint, Willow bit the inside of her cheek because the place had absolutely no personality.

There were no flowerbeds or carefully tended gardens, just a few basic shrubs that looked like they’d been planted because they were required, not because anyone cared. No planters sat by the steps, no bright flowers softened the edges of the porch, and nothing hung to break up the plainness of it all. It was just grass stretching out against brick and concrete, lit up by an almost excessive number of lights that made everything feel more functional than welcoming.

Willow looked at Jay Bird again. Actually, it fit him perfectly.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said, looking away.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re judging my house.”

“No, I’m not.” Willow tried not to smile. “It’s just very…”

“Very what?”

She looked toward the bare front yard. “Efficient.”

Jay Bird barked out a laugh. “That’s not a compliment.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t nice.” Willow gestured toward the property. “It’s beautiful. It just looks like landscaping showed up one day and you threatened it.”

He stared at her for a second before the corner of his mouth finally lifted into a small, almost reluctant smile.

“Flowers aren’t really my thing.”

“I gathered.”

But Willow could already picture it—hydrangeas lining the side of the house, maybe a few flowering shrubs softening the porch, and large planters near the entry to bring in a bit of color. Nothing overly fussy, just enough to take the edge off all that brick. The yard had so much potential, and she found herself imagining what it could look like if it were ever allowed to feel a little more alive.

She immediately stopped herself. This wasn’t her house, just a temporary place to stay, nothing more.

Jay Bird turned off the engine. “I’ll grab the groceries. You get Lily.”

Willow looked toward the bags filling the cargo area.

“I can carry some.”

“I’ve got them.”

There was no annoyance in his voice—only a quiet, steady certainty that left no room for argument. Willow let out a small breath and decided this probably wasn’t a battle worth picking, especially not after the earlier grocery situation had already turned into enough of a point of tension on its own.

On the way home from the hospital, Jay Bird had asked what she and Lily liked to eat. Willow had expected them to stop at a grocery store, but apparently he had noticed her immediate tension at the thought of walking through a crowded store.

He hadn’t commented at all. Instead, he’d just pulled up an app on his phone and quietly asked her what they needed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. They placed the order right there from the SUV and picked everything up without ever stepping inside the store. And when she had tried to pay, he had refused, like the idea didn’t even make sense to him. He would probably find the fifty-dollar bill she had shoved into his center cup holder eventually.

Willow wasn’t sure how much longer Chen’s remaining money would last. She had about seven hundred dollars left. She couldn’t afford to waste a cent, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to let Jay Bird support them. She was not going to act like a charity case.

Willow climbed from the SUV and opened the rear door.

“Hey, bug. We’re here.”

Lily blinked sleepily at her. “Home?”