Grace was swiping though the image search, pulling my phone towards her with each photo. "Sure, sweetheart," I said, handing over my phone. "Just swipe right, just like that." Grace sat back, crossing her legs underneath her like a good little kindergartner, like Brynn had probably taught her, and quietly swiped through the pictures.
"Adelina, are you okay?" Brynn asked gently, kneeling down in the dirt next to Grace's mother.
Adelina took a deep shuddering breath. "Thank you," she exhaled, and there was none of that hard edge to her voice anymore. Hardness I now recognized as fear. "He broke the restraining order," she said her voice shaking with relief. "There were witnesses, cops heard him threaten me. He finally did it out in the open," she breathed, shuddering. "He's finally, finally going to jail."
Brynn reached out and rested her hand on Adelina's shoulder. "I'm glad," she said simply, and my heart slid sideways in my chest because I knew what it must have cost Brynn to stand up to that man. How scared she must have been.
I reached over and gently brushed her hair away from her face. "Come with me?" I asked carefully.
She nodded, swallowed, and accepted my help as I lifted us both to our feet. Gently, I led her away from Adelina who was now hovering over her daughter, arms wrapped around her little body as Grace swiped through pictures of horses on my phone.
Brynn took a few steps with her head held high, a reflective look in her eyes. "I wonder," she said softly. "If my mother showed up like that." She swallowed. "Would I be strong enough not to go with her?" She shook her head. "I don't think I would be."
"Yes," I told her. "You would be. No one can make you do anything you don't want to do, Brynn."
All at once, she started shivering. Her hands started shaking. She looked down almost in shock, and suddenly her whole body was trembling. I pulled her close and she hid her face against my chest as her tears soaked my shirt. And I wasn't sure if she was crying for Grace. Or for herself. Maybe for both of them.
Chapter Forty-One
Brynn
The pictures were so sharp and clear in my head. All of the different ways that could have all gone wrong.
I turned my face against Rett's chest, pressing my cheek to his heart. The slow, steady thump calmed me as I stared out at the chaos that surrounded us, not really seeing any of it. "I almost let her go," I said dully.
"Shh," Rett soothed, brushing his hand through my hair.
"No, I did," I repeated. I had no idea why I needed to make him hear me say this, why it was so important that he knew how close I came to failing that little girl. "She looks so much like her dad, you know?"
"She does," he agreed.
"I listened to my gut, though," I exhaled. "And my gut, it led me to do the right thing. Without second guessing myself... too much." I sniffed and looked up at him. "I'm pretty sure I was only able to do that because you taught me how."
He blinked, his face still calmly composed, but I was pretty sure that was pride that gleamed in his green eyes.
But I wasn't done. There was still something tugging, nagging at me, twisting around in my gut like a fiery serpent. I pulled back, looking up at him. "And a part of me," I went on. "One I don't really like to think too much about, was thinking about what it must be like for her. Loving someone who failed her so badly. Kids, they're so resilient, you know?" I sniffled. "And they'll always keep wanting to go back to the person that hurt them, at least when that person is their parent."
He was looking down at me, listening. His whole body was still and watchful, and I knew he was really understanding what I was saying.
I just didn't know if I understood it myself.
"Grace, she was probably happy to see her daddy like that. What an amazing surprise to have him suddenly show up after who knows how long?" My voice caught and Rett brushed my hair back away from my tears. "She's probably felt like her whole life has been on hold this whole time. Like... maybe she doesn't want to start anything new, she wants to keep everything just as it was when her dad left so that when he comes back nothing will have changed, and her mom will just fit right back into her life again. So it's impossible for her to finish anything and..."
"Dad," Rett said gently.
"Huh?"
"It was her dad that showed up today, Brynn. Not her mom."
"I didn't..." I stared up at him. "Did I say mom?"
He nodded.
"Fuck," I breathed, stepping back from him. "I think... I think I just figured a whole bunch of shit out." I stared at him. "How'd you do that?"
He shook his head minutely. "I didn't do anything."
"Yeah well," I let out a rueful chuckle. "I sure as hell wouldn't have figured it out if it weren't for you."
Rett made a low noise and pulled me away from the crowd. "That makes two of us."
"What?" I asked. "Why are you always so cryptic?"
He coughed and then chuckled. "I don't mean to be. Fine. You want me to say it, I'll say it." He grabbed my hands, circling his fingers around my wrists, binding them together and then kissing each of my knuckles in turn. "You said I helped you figure things out. Well I could say the same to you. Should say the same." He paused, pressing his lips to my fingers as my heart did somersaults in my chest. "You freed me, Brynn Reese. I've wanted to tell you that for the longest time, to thank you freeing me from this prison I'd built all by myself." He coughed again, looking away off in the middle distance for a moment, and I held my tongue. This was silence I didn't want to fill. "I love you," he choked.
"I love you too," I breathed.
"No." He shook his head. "I mean, yes, of course, I'm glad, but I wasn't telling you that I love you to make you say it back. I was saying it because you've made everything I ever hated about myself into something to celebrate." He kissed my hands again. "I would've never known how to do any of this without you. And I sure as shit want to keep doing it with you for as long as you'll let me." He coughed again. "Maybe forever."
I stiffened and then looked at him in shock. "Everett McCabe," I said sternly. "Did you just propose to me?"
His lips turned up into a wry grin. "Yeah, maybe a little." His eyes darkened a little as he brushed his lips across mine. "Don't worry baby, I'll make sure you get your sparkly ring and your romantic balloon ride over the falls." I snorted at that. "Or whatever it is you want. You just tell me. But I figured I should let you know what you're in for." He reached into his pocket and my heart quickened when he pulled out the piece of rope I knew he'd been saving for today's adventure. I stared as he wrapped it around and around my wrist until he finally tied it off into a crude bow. "There."
"Is this...?"
"It's not a ring," he pointed out. "But it's a promise anyway." He grinned. "You know we don't exactly do things normally, you and I."
I went up on my tiptoes to find his lips. He kissed me back with everything I gave him and then some, until finally I pulled away breathless to look him in the eye. "Fuck normal," I whispered to him.
His eyes darkened and he kissed me again.
* * *
THE END
Epilogue
Brynn
My father poured the beer and slid it across the bar. When Everett put the money down, my dad raised his eyebrow. "What the H-E-double hockey sticks do you think you're doing? Put that away, you don't pay to drink here."
"He doesn't charge half the town," I explained, taking a sip of my own free drink. A glass of white Gewürztraminer wine. Yes, I had finally worked up the courage to tell my dad I really didn't like beer. And he'd responded by contracting with two of the local wineries, giving me my pick of the good stuff. "That's why he's going to be working until the day he dies."
It was so strange being the only ones in the bar. Labor Day weekend had signaled the last day of the season. The tourists had all gone home and life was returning to normal.
Sort of.
"That's my plan!" my dad echoed cheerfully. "I'm gonna keel over right behind this counter and then you're going to
take over the business."
"Geez, don't you think that's a little morbid?" I asked, vaguely horrified.
"I think it's kind of cool," Rett interjected. "Keeping something in the family like that. I like that."
"You're gonna help her with it, right?" my dad asked gruffly.
"You bet," Rett grinned.
I licked my lips, unable to keep from smiling like a fool hearing my father and my fiancé making plans for the future. "Though I'm not so great with the public," Rett mused. "Think I'll have to stay in the back and maybe handle the books or something. So I don't drive the customers away with my winning personality." He grinned at me. "I'll let my wife handle the front end."
A rush of happiness flooded through me and I blushed and looked down at my finger. He'd proposed yesterday, for real this time, at the top of the falls. After forcing me to hike up there. I learned two things that day. I really, really hated hiking. And I really, really loved Everett McCabe.
I also really, really loved the ring he picked out and the way the band twisted around itself.
Just like a rope.
I twisted the ring around my finger and then traced a line around my wrist as I listened to my father make plans with my future husband. And as I did, the door slammed open.
"There you are!" Autumn shrieked, making a beeline for me with Cole grinning behind her. I glanced at Rett who was doing his level best to remain stoic. And failing miserably. "Did you call them?" I hissed accusingly.
"I thought you might want to celebrate."
"I thought this was just going to be a quiet night because it's the first day of school tomorrow?"
"We can be quiet," Rett protested. Then winced as Autumn shrieked again when she caught a glimpse of my ring.
"You know I have to be up at 5:30," I reminded him. "New classroom. I want to be there early."
I was teaching first grade this year. And I was especially pleased to see that Grace Moore was on my attendance roster.
"Holy shit," called a familiar voice as the door banged open again. "Guess we're like, family times two now, huh?"
This time I was the one who winced as Rett gaped at Callum. From behind my brother, Rett's sister Harper came squealing over to shriek at my ring. "You called him?" Rett murmured.
"I... thought you might want to celebrate," I deadpanned as Harper almost yanked my arm off, trying to get a closer look.
"Who's buying shots?" Cal demanded. "It's on the house."
"Like any of you jokers pay for your drinks anyways," my father muttered. But he set about diligently laying out the glasses.
I glanced at Rett, my future husband. He caught my gaze and then looked significantly towards the top shelf, where the bottle of bourbon we'd shared that first night sat gathering a thick coating of dust. We'd drunk that together back when I still thought we were using each other. Back when he still struggled with his shame.
Now look at us. Surrounded by family and friends. We'd come so far in one summer and yet... "You want to grab it?" I asked.
"For old time's sake," Rett nodded.
I gestured to my dad, who climbed up on his stool to grab that bottle. "Old times?" I laughed. "It was only three months ago."
"Feels like another life," Rett said, closing his hand around mine. The one that wore his ring. "Like it wasn't even me." He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed it as our friends and family whooped. "I can't imagine living without you."
I bit my lip, blinking back the tears. "That sounded like a toast to me!" Cal shouted, lifting his glass. We all lifted ours in return and then knocked back the burning liquid. Harper sputtered and made noises about needing to get her tolerance back up and Cole slapped Rett on the back. Cal leaned over the bar to hug my dad and I just sat there with the biggest grin on my face, Rett's hand in mine and my heart tied to his.
* * *
THE END
* * *
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Excerpt of All of Me
Chapter One
Bee
My cheeks flamed. Just having him back here in this little kitchen in his crisp white shirt made everything around me seem a dull in comparison. His fancy restaurant next door overshadowed my homey little bakery by a long shot. "You don't have to worry about it," I told him, ducking my head, "I was just kidding."
When I lifted my gaze, he was cocking his head to the side, giving me a glance that told me he knew far too much about me, or thought he did anyway. "I always keep my word," he said.
Was he flirting? I thought he might be flirting. But then again, I probably also should be skeeved out by the fact that I was here alone with him. Once again, I found myself realizing that I actually had no idea how to handle men, much less men that looked like him. All the experience I had was with Zach, and I could pack that into something the size of my little finger.
That was a problem. It really was the size of my little finger.
I suppressed my snort, and looked back up at him. "I don't actually need more cupcakes, that batch was extra," I told him. "But you can help me with the last rack of dinner rolls for my delivery."
He grinned, rolling up his sleeves. "Need me to knead?" he asked.
I couldn't help but glance at his forearms, seeing that under that crisp button-down shirt, he had the ropey, defined muscles of someone who knew how to work with his hands. "I have a machine that does that," I said, feeling my throat grow dry.
"Too bad," he sighed. I silently agreed with him.
"You can measure into here," I told him, patting my bread machine.
He nodded. "Good, I follow directions well," he said, shooting me a grin.
"I highly doubt that."
He licked his lips. They were very full for a guy, and when he grinned at me, his smile was slightly lopsided. "All you have to do is tell me what you want me to do."
Was he flirting now? Was that definitely flirting? It had to be flirting.
Or maybe he was teasing me. Sometimes when Zach teased me, he said it was because I was so cute. But it always made me feel so small instead.
But Jackson wasn't doing that. He was reading my recipe very carefully, and leveling off his measurements very precisely. I found myself staring, as he measured it out, much more carefully than my usual eyeball and dump strategy.
He turned his head and caught me staring and I snapped out of it. "I open in fifteen minutes," I told him.
"I don't think I've ever been your customer," he remarked.
"That's okay," I told him. "I've never been to your restaurant."
He grinned ruefully. "That's because it isn't open yet. I don't have that excuse."
"I'm the only one open on the block," I reminded him, feeling a little cheeky. I glanced up at him. His eyes were kind, soft, but sharp and intelligent at the same time. There was a light that danced behind them, even though I could see the dark shadows from working most of the night.
I shook my head. "Shit, I need to set up the tables," I said, silently cursing myself for being so absent-minded. Was this what I got like when I was around attractive guys? I sort of hated myself right now.
"I've got it," Jackson said. He helped me pull the chairs down from where I had set them upside down on the tables the da
y before. "You got everything?" he asked me.
I nodded. And he reached over, and switched the sign in the door over from Closed to Open.
The bell over the door rang almost instantly, and in loped the last person I thought I was going to see.
And apparently last person Jackson thought he would see either. When he walked in, it was like all the air went out of the room as he looked from Jackson to me and back to Jackson.
"Hello," Finn said.
My stomach dropped down to my toes. I looked from Finn, back to Jackson, feeling for some strange reason like I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Or...like I was cheating or something.
But Finn wasn't paying attention to me. He was looking at Jackson with the strangest expression on his face. There was electricity in the air, I could feel it. It raised the hairs on the back of my neck. This kind of current... I'd never felt it before, but there was something in me... the same dark, dangerous part of me where my fearsome temper resided, that welcomed it.
* * *
END OF SNEAK PEEK
* * *
I came home to open the bakery of my dreams.
Instead, I’m getting burned.
Someone’s after me.
After my bakery, anyway.
I’m cranking out fine pastries as fast as my industrial oven will allow, but I’m still losing customers. Turns out, they don’t want to buy fresh and fluffy doughnuts from a store that’s been tagged with filthy graffiti.
It’s one thing after another, and I’m going to need all my focus to pull my little business back from the brink.
Only there are two huge distractions across the street.
Hold Me Tight Page 15