His Little Bird

Promise

Ethan's POV

I smooth down my suit as I knock on the door.

It opens moments later to reveal Hannah, Weston's submissive. I nod to her in respect, silently greeting her as she balances a child on one hip, holding a phone to her ear with her cheek and shoulder.

She smiles and wordlessly invites me inside.

The little one in her arms starts to fuss, so Hannah turns and heads into the office, leaving me to stand in the entry. Light footfalls echos down the steps and I look up to see Birdie descending the stairs.

Our eyes meet for a moment, but then she drops her head, a blush already dusting her face. "I-um. My room is upstairs," she says demurely, slightly turning to go up the stairs again.

"It is good to see you," I tell her politely, following her.

I want to tell her how pretty she looks, but I'm sure she get tired of all her suitors talking of her appearance.

She seems thrown off by my greeting, but then again, I think my presence alone does that.

Just as before, she seems fidgety, her movements erratic.

She takes me into her room and steps aside, folding her hands in front of her and bowing her head. I hum and walk past her, surveying her room. "Do you live here?" Her family seems to treat her well, but this could be a hotel room with the lack of any personalization.

"Oh. No. My parents are on vacation, so Weston is taking care of me." She quickly forgets herself and starts to fiddle with her hands. My dropped gaze quickly catches her attention and she refolds her hands once again.

Always so jumpy.

"Are your clothes here?"

"Um some. I stay here a lot to help with the kids."

"That is very nice of you," I say, looking up at her as I open up one of the dresser drawers. It is mostly empty, but she does have some clothing. Everything looks like lounge clothes which makes sense because she is here just to watch the kids.

I walk over to her closet and open it, pausing to look over at her. Her expression is twisted in nervousness, making it impossible for me to tell if she is irritated with me going through her things. "Has anyone ever dressed you before?"

"Weston did almost everyday before he got married, Sir." I turn to look at her in surprise.

"So you are used to it?" I am pleased to hear this.

"Yes, Sir," she tells me respectfully.

"Do you like it? Or is it something that you didn't have a choice on?"

"I liked it," she admits begrudgingly and I smile into her closet, looking through her dresses. They are all very long and not very business like.

"You have very long dresses. Do you usually dress so modestly?" I inquire.

"That is for church, Sir," she informs me and I hum. In all honesty, I know I won't find any business wear for her in her closet either, but I do want to see her real room.

"How far away is your house? I can drive us there." I want to see where she lives. I need to know how soon I need to push paperwork.

"Next door," she says, glancing out the window. I turn to look.

"You live next door?" She is full of surprises isn't she. She nods timidly, dropping her gaze to the floor again.

"Weston is over there now. Would you like us to walk over there, Sir?"