Live For Me (Blurred Lines #2)(29)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Well, apparently they’re all f**king idiots because I can do math and that piece of paper clearly states you’re nineteen.”

Unfolding the birth certificate I’d withdrawn from the envelope I studied all the data on it. He was right. The year was one earlier than my grandmother had always told me. What the hell? It also had something I’d never seen before- my father’s name. Randy Hart.

He had a name. I liked the sound of it. I also liked that my mother had listed him on the birth certificate. Like it mattered. Like he mattered to her.

“Do you feel older and wiser?” he asked.

Just really confused. “But that means I started school a year late. This doesn’t make any sense. I don’t understand how it never came up with me.”

“Maybe you could ask your grandmother about it. Maybe there was a reason.”

“It doesn’t matter, I guess.” Though it felt like it mattered. I’d lost a year of my life without even being aware of it. And again, it felt like other people had controlled me, my fate, carelessly and without letting me in on it. “But it feels very weird. That means I only get to be nineteen for a few months.”

“You’re almost twenty.” Devin sounded pleased by that fact. Like it relieved him of a certain burden of perversion.

That might be the only positive. It might encourage him to move a little faster with what we’d started. “Are you sure this is valid?”

“Of course.” He kicked his shoes off by Amelia’s dog bed, peeled off his jacket, and went to the refrigerator. “I want some wine and a fire in the fireplace. You want anything?”

I shook my head.

“I feel like I should have gotten you a Christmas tree since I’m stealing you from your friends.”

That would have been nice, I had to admit. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve only had a tree twice when I was with foster families.”

“You say it doesn’t matter a lot,” he told me, head still buried in the shelves, looking for what I had no idea. He emerged with a block of Brie cheese. “I don’t believe you.”

“It is what it is. I’m not bitter.”

“I know you’re not. Which is one of the reasons I find you so amazing.”

The doorbell rang. Damn it. Lousy, shitty timing. “I’ll get it.”

Devin let me, which surprised me. Usually he followed me when I went and did something. He was like a little kid or a dog that way- he didn’t like to be left alone in rooms.

When I opened the front door, all I saw was greenery and a guy with a knit hat on his head. “Where should we put it?” he asked.

“Put what?” I asked stupidly.

“The tree.”

“What tree?” Even though I could clearly see he was holding a Christmas tree in his hand.

“This tree. Look, this is Mr. Gold’s house, right?”

“Yes.” Realizing that Devin had been messing with me, that he had clearly ordered a Christmas tree, I opened the door wider and stepped back. “Sorry, come in. Devin,” I called. “Where do you want the tree?”

He appeared in the foyer, looking pleased with himself. “By the fireplace, in front of the window.” He gestured to his right for the guy.

A woman followed the man, carrying three plastic containers piled high in her arms. I raised an eyebrow at Devin.

“Ornaments,” he said, like it should have been obvious.

“Right.” I couldn’t help but smile. He could be very thoughtful when he wanted to be. Even if he liked to tease.

“They’re going to light the tree and decorate it for us.”

And with that, the joy and sweetness of his surprise evaporated. “What? Oh, hell no. We’re decorating it.” Was he for real? “Get your hands dirty, G Daddy.”

He made a face at me. “It will look better if someone else does it.”

“And why do we care what it looks like if we’re the only ones here? It’s supposed to be special, not to sit as a perfect display. I’ve never gotten to decorate a tree.” I wasn’t going to stand there and watch someone get paid to do it. So weird.

Though probably no weirder than my role in Devin’s life.

“Fine.” He looked uncertain about the whole thing, but he helped the woman set the boxes down on the floor as the man put the tree into a stand.

Needles rained to the hardwood and the scent of pine filled the air. It felt completely bizarre to have two total strangers standing in the family room assembling a tree. I wanted them gone so I could stand back and appreciate having my own Christmas tree. Mine. Ours. Devin might have arranged it and paid for it, but it was our tree. Though I knew that had been his intention.

“Thank you,” I told the guy as he stepped back to assess the position of the tree.

He smiled at me. He was in his forties. “You’re welcome. I told your father you need a high ceiling for a fir tree like this one, but clearly this room fits the bill.”

My father? Nice. That was the last thing Devin needed to hear someone say. It would just raise his doubts all over again. I managed a tight smile. “Yeah, it really does. It’s going to be beautiful.”

Devin either didn’t hear or he was determined not to acknowledge what the guy said. He just signed some papers and escorted them both to the front door which he slammed shut after them.

“I don’t look like your father,” he said, striding back into the room as I was taking a lid off one of the containers. He sounded more angry than embarrassed.

“No. You don’t,” I said calmly. “But I called you G Daddy. He just heard the ‘daddy’ part. You’re older than me. Don’t take it personally.” People made assumptions. Enormous and erroneous ones. Like even my best friend, who couldn’t believe that Devin’s interest in me could be normal. To her it was deviant that he would like me, and that stung.

Even though I knew if the roles were reversed I would be saying the same thing. I wanted her to trust me. To trust that I knew Devin. That I knew what I was doing.

“So maybe you shouldn’t call me Daddy anymore.”

“No problem. It doesn’t really feel right. It doesn’t seem like you to me.” I didn’t want to make it a bigger issue than it should be, so I left it at that. I picked through the box. All the ornaments were natural materials, with a woodland theme. Very Maine.

“It is me,” he said shortly.

Wow. He was in a charming mood. “Did you pick this theme?” I asked. “I love it.”