The Slade Brothers: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection

by Alexis Winter

  I drop Jerry off at the job site and head home for a quick shower before meeting up with Tessa for dinner. Tessa is a woman I’ve known for a few years now. She and I have an arrangement. When we’re together, we’re together. When we’re not…well, you get the idea. Like I said, I never wanted to settle down and Tessa, she just got out of a bad marriage. She has a teenage son and isn’t ready for anything serious. We keep each other company. Nothing more.

  It doesn’t take me long to shower and dress in some clean clothes. About thirty minutes later, I’m back in the truck and heading for our usual meet-up, the bar.

  I walk in and the music is playing softly from the jukebox in the corner. I scan the bar and find her sitting at our usual table in the far back corner. Her brown eyes meet mine, and she offers up a small smile and a wave. I head over and slide into the booth.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” I flag down the bartender.

  “How was your day?” she asks, sweeping a section of her black hair behind her ear. Her tanned skin turns just the slightest shade of pink.

  I nod. “Pretty good, I guess. We’re almost done with the ranch house we’ve been working on—another week or so tops—and I went and checked out the farmhouse that we’re renovating into a bed-and-breakfast soon.”

  The bartender brings over my usual, a non-alcoholic beer.

  “How was your day?”

  “Busy,” she breathes out.

  “Yeah? What happened?”

  “I had to go into work early because Gale called in sick—my back is killing me after waiting tables all day. Then I had Jason’s baseball game, and of course, it was my turn to bring the sports drinks, sunflower seeds, and beef jerky. So I had to leave work, go straight to the store, then to the field. By the time that was over, I was sweating through my waitressing uniform. I had to run home, shower, and get ready for dinner.”

  “Did they win?”

  She smiles. “They did. And Jason pitched a perfect game. Coach says he’s got some scouts coming to check him out.”

  “That’s great,” I reply.

  “So, who is this bed-and-breakfast for? I haven’t heard anything about it at the restaurant, and you know how rare that is with this town and its gossip.” She runs the tip of her index finger around the rim of her glass.

  “Her name is Autumn Delaney. She’s moving in from Ohio. I guess her father passed and left her some money. Running a bed-and-breakfast has always been her dream.” I shrug, feeling indifferent about it.

  “Ooh, a new woman in town? I hope she doesn’t replace me,” she teases, batting her fake eyelashes in my direction.

  I scoff. “She has a five-year-old son and a passion for bed-and-breakfasts. I highly doubt she’s my type.” I laugh out.

  I pick up on her jealousy, but I’m not exactly sure why. Tessa and I, we’re not together. We both agreed to these terms a long time ago.

  “Well, you already know an awful lot about this woman. How old is she?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. Looks like I don’t know much about her at all,” I reply, hoping to ease her jealousy. “I only know what we’ve discussed over the phone. I don’t even know what she looks like.”

  And I couldn’t care less because I’m not in any way, shape, or form looking to start anything up with her or anyone else. I’m not even in a relationship with Tessa and already, she’s more than I want to deal with. If I could get along fine without the occasional romp in bed, I wouldn’t be having dinner with her right now. And Tessa knows this. She doesn’t want to deal with me anymore than I want to deal with her, but we’re both adults and lonely. We’re just seeking comfort anywhere we can get it.

  Three

  Autumn

  We’re pulling into Nowhere, Colorado one day ahead of schedule. Bryce is bouncing with energy and talking my ear off. Most of it goes in one side and out the other, but I let him talk anyway. Instead of going straight to our motel room, I make the drive out to the farmhouse. I can’t wait for work to start. Already, I can see what this place will be: our new home, a safe haven, a beacon of hope and love. Gone are the days of being fearful and dreading coming home.

  “Where are we?” Bryce asks, unbuckling and leaning forward to look out the windshield.

  “This is going to be our new home,” I tell him excitedly.

  He scrunches up his face. “Kinda trashy…”

  I laugh. “Well, it won’t be after it’s all fixed up. Come on, let’s walk around.” I shut off the van and step out, opening his door. He jumps out and takes off in a sprint. I stand back and watch, smiling and happy that after days of being on the road and trapped in the van, he’s finally getting to act like the little boy he is.

  He runs around the whole house, then stops by the tree in the front yard. “Hey, Mom, can we put a swing in this tree?”

  “I don’t see why not, buddy.”

  “Yay!” he cheers, jumping up and down. “And we have a barn! Can we have horses?”

  “Maybe one of these days. We have to get the house fixed before we even begin to think of the barn.”

  “Can we go inside? I want to pick my room.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Not today, pal. We need to have it worked on. This house is really old. We don’t want to fall through the floor or anything. Look over there.” I point, trying to distract him. “There’s a pond. Maybe we can swim out there.”

  “Really?” he asks with wide eyes.

  I laugh and ruffle his hair. “You getting hungry?”

  “Starving,” he says.

  “Come on. Let’s go check into our room and unpack. Then we’ll go in search of food and everything else we’ll need to live in a motel.”

  We load back up into the van, and I drive back toward town. After checking into our rooms—two rooms connected with a single door in the middle—we swing by the local grocery store and stock up on needed items. Since we’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future, I opt for two rooms so we have more space. We grab some food that we can make right there in our room with a microwave. I also stock up on napkins, plastic silverware, and paper plates. Bryce is excited he gets junk for breakfast. I’ve always been the home-made breakfast type: eggs, toast, oatmeal…he’s never just had a bowl of cereal or donuts.

  After stocking up at the store, we take everything back to the motel room and begin putting it all away. I head into Bryce’s room and drag the curtains closed and lock the door up tight after sticking out the do not disturb sign. Then I replace the motel bedding with his own, making the room feel a little more homey for him. We brought some of his favorite toys, but couldn’t take everything. Once his room is done, he turns on the TV and watches cartoons while he plays with his cars in the floor.

  I’m hoping it doesn’t take too long to get the farmhouse in somewhat a livable shape. Living in a motel with a child is depressing, not to mention unsuitable. We need a kitchen to have healthy meals. He needs a yard to run and play in.

  After getting my room as I want it, I sit down to rest a moment. Like usual, that’s when the thoughts start creeping in. I’m hit with a sudden worry of Glenn finding us. In my mind, I see him coming through Bryce’s door and taking him away while I sleep. I push myself back up and go into his room, pushing the dresser in front of the front door.

  He looks at me like I’m crazy. “What you doing?”

  “I just…don’t want anyone to be able to come in or out this door. If someone knocks, you let me know. Got it?”

  He nods once. “Got it.” He’s right back to playing with his cars. I stand in the doorway between our rooms and watch him without him realizing it. I don’t know what I’d ever do without him. He may only be five, but he’s my reason for living. He’s what makes me want to keep fighting, to demand more out of life. I want to raise him to be a good man, not anything like his father. Moving here is the first step in that.

  Bryce and I snack on chips and cookies until dinner time when we go to the diner in town. We sit in one of the booth, and
there’s a little miniature jukebox sitting on the table that takes quarters. He immediately starts messing with it.

  “What is this thing?” he asks.

  “Watch,” I reply, digging a quarter out of my purse. I put the quarter in and press the button. The little jukebox starts playing “Jail House Rock” by Elvis.

  His eyes stretch wide and his mouth drops open. “Cool!”

  I grab the menus out from behind the little jukebox and hand him one. He can’t read much yet, but he likes to look at the pictures and pretend he’s reading it.

  “What are you going to have?” I ask.

  He looks at the menu and places his finger on his chin. “Hmmmm, I think I’ll have this.” He points at something on the menu.

  I lean over and read what he’s pointing at. “I highly doubt you’ll eat liver and onions. How about a cheeseburger?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought it said.” He pushes the menu away and digs two cars out of his pockets to play with on the table.

  “Hi, folks. My name is Tessa and I’ll be your waitress. What can I get ya started with?” she asks politely with a friendly smile.

  “Chocolate milk,” Bryce orders.

  She nods. “Okay, and for yourself?” She looks down at me.

  I can’t help but to notice how naturally beautiful she is. With her tanned skin and long, black hair that’s pulled into a high ponytail, she almost looks exotic. Her almond-shaped eyes are lined within thick, dark lashes and the irises are the color of chocolate. They look so deep that it’s like staring into an abyss. She’s not wearing much makeup, but her lips are perfectly painted a deep red, brightening up her face.

  “I’ll just take a glass of tea with lemon, please.”

  She nods and walks away to get our drinks.

  I look down at my menu and decide on a chicken salad sandwich on toast and fries as a side.

  The waitress is back moments later. “I haven’t seen you folks around before. You just passing through?” she asks, placing our drinks in front of us.

  “Actually, we’re just moving in from Ohio.”

  An emotion flashes across her face, but it’s wiped away quickly. If I’m not imagining things, I’d say it was annoyance, but I don’t know this woman. What could she possibly have to be jealous about? She forces a big, fake smile onto her face. “Oh, you must be Autumn. You’re the one that’s going to open up that bed-and-breakfast out at the Nelson’s old place, right?”

  I’m almost speechless, but then I remind myself that this is a small town and that everyone probably knows all about us already. “That’s right,” I say, giving her a fake smile of my own. I’m not from a small town. I’ve always been a city girl. I’m not exactly a fan of everyone knowing my business, especially with my broken marriage. Not wanting to give her time to talk about my personal business anymore, I cut her off. “I think we’re ready to order.”

  Her mouth that was open, about to reply, snaps closed. She gives a slight shake of her head. “Okay, what’ll ya have?”

  “He wants a cheeseburger with only mustard and extra pickles with fries. And I think I’ll have the chicken salad sandwich on toast with fries.” I place our menus back behind the jukebox.

  She scribbles our order down. “Okay, I’ll get that in for ya.” Without another word, she walks away.

  “She’s weird,” Bryce says. He must have picked up on that strange look on her face too. “But she’s pretty,” he adds on, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

  I laugh. My little man is growing up way too fast. He has the same look most men do when they find a pretty woman that they don’t quite understand. I guess it starts early.

  It doesn’t take long to get our food, and Bryce and I manage to clear our plates. I pay the bill and leave a nice tip on the table for the waitress. As I’m standing up and holding out my hand for Bryce, I notice the waitress standing at the counter. She’s pouring a cup of coffee for an older gentleman. He’s talking to her and she’s nodding along. I even see her mouth open as she replies, but her eyes are on me, studying me from head to toe. I wonder what the deal is with this woman. Why is she so curious about me?

  I lead Bryce toward the door. As he’s walking out ahead of me, I turn and look over my shoulder one last time, and she’s still watching me. I lift my hand and wave. She smiles at me but doesn’t stop wiping down the counter. I shake my head and follow Bryce out to the van.

  Back at the motel, I get everything set up for Bryce’s shower, and I start unpacking the rest of our things. I place all our clothes into the small closets and into the dressers, and then I set up the sinks with our toothbrushes and soaps. I even put up a few decorations to make the place feel a little more cozy. I wasn’t able to take most of our belongings from the house, but I grabbed my favorite rug to put beside my bed, a couple of throw pillows, and some of Bryce’s dinosaur items from his room: his lamp, rug, and porcelain bank. The motel room finally looks like a little boy’s bedroom. While I’m dying to get the farmhouse done, he’s just excited about having his own bathroom like a big boy.

  After Bryce is tucked into bed, I get cleaned up and crawl into my own bed. I grab my laptop and pull up YouTube, deciding I need to learn some basic carpentry skills since I intend on helping with the restoration. I figure it’ll only help get the job done that much faster, and I’ll love the outcome that much more knowing that my own blood, sweat, and tears went into the project. I hope the contractor doesn’t mind that I intend on being involved in every aspect of the project.

  After learning about drywall, how to tile, and how to do some minor electrical work, I close the computer and slouch down into bed. Sleep takes me immediately.

  Four

  Clay

  I wake up before the sun rises, and I go to the kitchen to brew myself some coffee. I fill the pot up with water and pour it into the back of the coffee pot before going to shower for the day. My coffee pot is old and it takes forever to brew a pot. At least this way, it should be almost done by the time I get out. I don’t bother with shaving. I just step into the shower and wash off, not wasting any time. Today is my meeting with Autumn. This place isn’t even mine, but I’m excited to see her vision for it. I hope to God she’s not the “I want everything updated” type. There’s nothing worse than finding a beautiful house and wanting it stripped of everything that makes it beautiful. If I have to hear “modern” one more time, I’ll pull my hair out.

  All these people want to buy these old properties because they have such rich history, but then they want to tear everything out and fill an authentic country home full of modern-day technology. A woman called me the other day wanting a smart home. I laughed and hung up without another word. Don’t people see that the more electronics you shove into a house, the more problems you’re going to have? My house is the way everyone’s should be. The simpler, the better.

  I step out of the shower, drying off and getting dressed. I sit on the foot of the bed and pull on my socks and work boots before going in search of coffee. The smell hits my nose before I even make it into the kitchen. I breathe it in deeply as I enter the kitchen and pull out my thermos. I fill the entire thing with coffee and a dash of sugar. Then I grab my gallon of sweet tea out of the fridge and toss it into the cooler as I begin to make lunch.

  I fix a couple of sandwiches, pack some homegrown baby carrots, a couple of apples, and the peanut butter cookies that Tessa gave me last night. I put everything into the cooler in sealed containers and head for the truck. I pack enough food to feed an army every day, but half the time, the guys dip into it too. They say I make a better lunch then most of their wives. All but Jerry’s. Jerry’s wife brings him a homemade lunch every day. Sometimes it’s pot roast. Other times, it’s roast beef. Yesterday, it was a whole lasagna. She doesn’t skimp on the sides either. I bet that poor woman doesn’t do anything but cook and clean up all day, every day.

  I set the cooler in the footwell of the passenger seat and slam the door closed behind me.
The old truck fires up on the first try, and I shift into reverse and head down the mountain. The sun is just starting to rise as I drive toward the farmhouse. The sky has a few lingering clouds from last night’s rainstorm, but the watercolor mixture of yellow, orange, and pink is beautiful nonetheless. Being so early, morning dew is clinging to every leaf, every blade of grass, making it glisten like diamonds when the sun’s rays touches it. I breathe in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the wet earth. The temperature is cooler with it being early morning, but there is already a thickness in the air due to the dew and rising heat. It’s humid as fuck already.

  I drive toward the farmhouse in silence as I sip my coffee. This is one of my favorite times of the day: early when there is nobody else on the road, when the farm animals are just getting up and moving around. There’s something about mornings that let people know that talk isn’t necessary. It’s the only time of day that most can really enjoy the silence without feeling awkward or without feeling like they have to make idle chit-chat.

  When I arrive at the property, I shut off the truck and climb out. The sun is peeking over the horizon, shining its bright orange-yellow rays over the land. The tall grass in the distance looks colorless in comparison. The new owner isn’t here yet, but I wanted to get here early. I just wanted a little time alone with the property. I know it sounds weird, but I like to come alone and envision the outcome, get a feel for what this place needs and wants. Also, it gives me time to get my thoughts and ideas in place without being swayed by the owner. A lot of times, they think they know what they want, until I present them with something better. And the reason I have something better is because I take this time to get to know the look and feel of the property. Old, run-down places like this have a story. It’s my job to discover it and bring them back to life.

  First, I sit on the step on the front porch and lean against the post, making myself comfortable. I close my eyes. Behind my lids, I see the property as it is now, and then, how it will be. I see the lawn cut down to where it should be. I see the front porch, all repaired, sanded, and painted. I see flowers and shrubs planted along the front. I see the house with a fresh set of paint instead of the peeling white paint that’s on it now. I see a whole new roof and a sign by the drive with the name of the bed-and-breakfast on it. In my vision, the barn is fully finished as well, with a bright red paint and crisp white trim.. I can see horses in there and wandering around the back property.