Page 69 of Unbound

“Oh, young lady.” Constance reaches out, patting Sybil’s hand. “I like you.”

I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. I was under the impression Constance Harrington didn’t like anyone. Watching her laugh and chat with Sybil throughout brunch is fucking unnerving. I’m tense, waiting for her to change her mind and become the bitchy, dry octogenarian we all know and tolerate.

It doesn’t happen. In fact, she enjoys Sybil’s company so much we’re the last ones to leave. I help my aunt and uncle clean up the kitchen while Sybil entertains Constance, the two of them discussing God knows what in the formal living room.

By the time I can’t stand it anymore and go to collect Sybil, Constance is looking a little droopy. I help the old woman up from her chair, providing support as she gets steady on her feet. My plan is to walk her to the main level guest room she always occupies, and get the hell out of here. But as Constance and I reach her door, she turns to me, voice surprisingly warm as she says, “I do expect an invitation to your wedding.”

I’m a little floored. Constance isn’t actually any relation to me, so I’m not sure why she would want to be involved in something like that.

It doesn’t really matter though.

“I don’t plan to get married, so don’t hold your breath.” Getting married has never even crossed my mind. Considering how rarely I date, there’s never been any reason to worry about it.

Constance pats my shoulder. “Whatever you say.” She turns, opening the door to her room, then pauses and looks back at me. “Sybil is a lovely girl. You two complement each other well.”

I stare as her door closes in my face, trying to decide if I’m simply irritated or fully pissed. Constance doesn’t know me well, and she sure as shit doesn’t know Sybil. She’s in no position to give out opinions over our compatibility.

If she was, she would see we aren’t actually a good fit at all. I’m quiet and Sybil is chaos. I like my routine and Sybil wouldn’t know a routine if it hid in a bag of Hot Cheetos. Sybil would never want me in her life because I would be a fucking buzz kill.

And Sybil can’t be in my life because all she would bring is…

“Walker?” Sybil’s voice is soft behind me.

I turn, eyes meeting hers as she comes down the hallway toward me, a beautiful smile blooming across her face. In an instant, all the turmoil inside me falls away, pushed out by the sight of her. I reach up to rub at the center of my chest, the sensation lodging there foreign and strangely soothing.

Sybil reaches me, one hand lifting to smooth down my lapel. “Are you ready to go home?”

The odd feeling in my chest amplifies at her question. At her calling my house home.

For just a second, I let myself wonder what it would be like if I wasn’t broken. If I knew how to show love and how to accept it. If I hadn’t taken every feeling I possessed and boxed them up because I didn’t know what else to do with them.

Sybil’s palm rests against the spot between my ribs, the warmth of her touch seeping through the fabric of my shirt into my skin. I pull in a deep breath, letting the connection soothe me in a way nothing else ever has.

And that’s when I know what Sybil would bring to my life.

Peace.

22

Sybil

Idon’t understand why everyone hates Auntie Constance so much. She’s kind of a bad bitch. I might tell her that the next time I see her. I feel like she’d appreciate it.

Maybe then she won’t make me dress up to come hang out with her, which would be awesome, because these heels are fucking killing me.

I kick them off in the floorboard of the UTV on the drive home, sighing with relief as I wiggle my tingling toes. “I don’t think I’m made for heels.”

Walker’s eyes slide to skim down my legs to where I’m still trying to work some circulation into my piggies. “Could’ve fooled me.”

I give Walker a grin across the cab. “Was that a compliment?”

“I should probably compliment you on more than just how well you walk in those shoes.” He gives his head a single shake, huffing out what’s almost a laugh. “I don’t know how in the hell you did it, but I think Constance fucking loves you.”

My smile widens. “I know.” Waggling my brows, I confide, “I did a whole background search on her last night so I’d know what to talk to her about.” Even though we’re the only two here, I lean in close and lower my voice. “Did you know she used to be a cocktail waitress?”

Walker’s brows pinch. “I think you found some wrong information.”

I bring a hand to my chest, scoffing. “Ow. Do you really think I’m so shitty at what I do that I can’t find an old lady’s work history?”