I liked it.
And the fact that I liked it freaked me out.
There’d been a time when I’d imagined the first family dinner with a different woman sitting next to me. That dinner had never happened, and as far as I was concerned, that woman might as well not exist anymore. I didn’t miss her, and I didn’t regret that we’d ended. But I’d also learned a hard lesson—a lesson Fiona was making me question.
I didn’t know how to feel about that.
We finished dinner and for once, I didn’t get up to leave at the first possible break in the conversation. Fiona was still chatting happily—mostly about gardening and chickens—and asking questions about Tilikum. And I didn’t feel the urgent need to get out of here. So when Gram and Grace took Fiona out back to walk through the gardens, and Asher grabbed the rest of us beers from the fridge, I went with it.
I took my beer outside onto the porch, leaving my brothers arguing about some action flick in the kitchen. Asher came outside and stood next to me, leaning his forearms against the railing.
We stood in silence for a few minutes, just drinking our beers. It was good to have Asher back. Everything had felt so wrong without him here.
“You know, Gram’s never given someone else a nickname,” he said, interrupting the silence.
“What?”
“She called Fiona Cricket.”
“Yeah, what’s your point?”
“She doesn’t give other people nicknames. Just us, and Grace.”
I did know that. I’d been choosing to ignore it. “So?”
“Nothing.” He took a sip of his beer. “Just an observation.”
We stood in silence again, actual crickets chirping in the night. I had a lot of fucking feelings battering me from the inside, and I wasn’t sure what to do with all of them. It had been a hell of a long time since I’d had an in-depth conversation with Asher—or any of my brothers. But a question crossed my mind, so I went ahead and asked.
“Ash, when you first got back together with Grace, did you have doubts?”
He turned toward me, clearly surprised by my question. “Yeah. Not about her. I had doubts about myself. Truthfully, I was scared shitless.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. I was afraid I’d screw it up and she’d wish I’d never come home.”
“How did you deal with that?”
He took another drink. “Not very well. You were here, you saw my downward spiral. But mostly I just tried to break it down into pieces I could handle. At first, I couldn’t cope with forever. That was too big. Felt like there were too many ways for me to fail her. So we decided to give it a summer. That felt manageable. It took the pressure off.”
“So you didn’t feel like you had to have all the answers right away.”
“Yeah, exactly. The truth is, I knew it was forever with her. A summer would never have been enough. But I still needed it to be that way so I could get my shit together.”
I stared at my beer bottle. “Makes sense.”
“You struggling with something, man?”
“No, I’m fine. Just wondering.”
I was struggling with something, but I didn’t want to talk about it. And what he was saying did make sense. I wasn’t sure where things with Fiona were going, but maybe that was fine. Although it felt like we’d fast-tracked the getting to know each other part, I was probably putting unnecessary pressure on myself. I liked Fiona. She was here for now. Maybe it was that simple.
I needed it to be. I wasn’t sure if I could handle anything else.
25
Fiona
I was in the best mood.
That dirty make-out session with Evan in his shop the other day—crazy? Yes. Unexpected? Completely. Mind-numbingly awesome? Why yes, yes it had been.
Going to dinner at Gram’s and hanging out with his family last night? Scary for sure. But once I’d gotten comfortable—which had taken all of about ten seconds because Gram was the coolest human ever—it had been so much fun.
Gram had introduced me to her chickens and showed me around her garden. She’d kept calling me Cricket, which was the most adorable thing ever. I’d never had a nickname that I actually liked. Some people called me Fi, but that wasn’t so much a nickname as a lazy way of not saying Fiona. The only other person who’d nicknamed me was Felix Orman, back when my dad had been working with him—in other words, at the height of his criminality. He’d called me Fifi, which was just the worst. Even as a little girl, I’d thought it was cringey.
But Gram calling me Cricket was sweet as the pie she’d fed us for dessert.
I’d been hoping for another dirty make-out session—or more—last night, but we’d come back late. And Evan had seemed a little distant. Or maybe he’d just been worn out. He seemed pretty introverted, so an entire evening with his family had probably been exhausting.
I’d gotten up early this morning, so I was already showered and dressed in a tank top and denim overalls. My hair was up and I’d tied my red bandanna like a headband. It was becoming my basic work attire.
I went into the kitchen and grabbed a handful of nuts. Evan was in the shower. I hesitated, wondering what he’d do if I went in there and surprised him.
But maybe we weren’t quite ready for that.
I knew I was choosing to ignore the potential for complications with Evan. I was only in Tilikum temporarily and starting a relationship with someone here could wind up being a terrible idea. Maybe I was still riding the high of changing my life in one fell swoop. The thrill of walking away from the toxic people who’d been weighing me down was certainly strong. Or maybe it was just my optimistic nature. Things would work out somehow, right?
Regardless, I wasn’t going to let a silly thing like practicality ruin my buzz. Not on this beautiful spring morning in the mountains.
Even Myra and Blanche were looking fantastic. I certainly didn’t want to mess up their juju by getting anxious about the future or labels or what it all meant. We liked being here with Evan. And for now, that was enough.
I took a handful of nuts outside, making sure Sasquatch didn’t follow. He’d only bark. I’d been teaching Peek and Boo to do a little squirrel obstacle course. It was amazing how trainable they were, given the right motivation. They particularly loved Oreo cookies, but I didn’t want to feed them too much junk food.
One of them—I decided it was Boo, although I couldn’t actually tell them apart—scampered down a tree trunk as soon as I came outside. He sat up on his hind legs, his tail swishing behind him.
“Hi, Boo. Come here, little guy. I have treats for you.”
He didn’t move.
“Maybe you’re Peek? Sorry, it’s hard to tell from far away. Or at all. No offense. Here, I have nuts.”
I put the nuts in a little basket on top of a ramp I’d made out of a board and a log round.
“Come on, buddy. Show me how smart you are.”
Peek—I decided he was definitely Peek—ran a little closer, then stopped. Boo scurried out of a tree and blew past his friend in pursuit of my tempting tidbits. He raced up the ramp and got his prize out of the basket.
“Yes! Success! You’re so smart.”
“What are you doing?” Evan asked behind me.
Peek and Boo ran off, disappearing up a tree.
I stood and turned, putting my hands on my hips. “I was trying to feed Peek and Boo, but you scared them off.”
He made for an imposing figure, a man almost as wide as his big front door, his square jaw darkened by stubble. “Don’t feed the squirrels.”
Why did he sound so alarmed? “Why not? They’re friendly.”
“The squirrels around here aren’t friendly. They’re evil.”
I laughed. “How can you say that? They’re little animals, they’re not evil. I taught them to climb the ramp. I’m going to see what else I can teach them to do.”
“Trust me, Tilikum squirrels are evil. Don’t teach them anything. Next thing you know, they’ll be
breaking in the house and stealing our stuff.”
“I’m sorry, are we still talking about squirrels?”
“Don’t trust them.”
I turned back around and tossed the rest of the nuts for them to find later. “There you go, Peek and Boo. I’ll take the big scary man inside and you can come have your treats.”
“Peek and Boo?” he asked as I walked past him into the house.
“What? You have a dog named after Bigfoot.”
“And you have plants that sound like members of an old lady’s bridge club.”
I glanced at Myra and Blanche, still happily perched on a little table next to the front window. “Shh. Evan, they can hear you.”
Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes.
He was only a couple of feet away and for a second, I thought he might reach for me. Maybe slip an arm around my waist and haul me roughly against him. Kiss me with that tongue that, the other day, had seemed intent on teasing out all my secrets.
“I need to get to work,” he said. “I have a shit ton to do today.”
I tried to ignore the little dip of disappointment. “Okay. I’ll be over there in a few.”
He nodded and headed for the door, then paused and glanced at Sasquatch. “Are you coming?”
The dog didn’t move.
“Traitor dog,” he muttered and left.
“You’re not a traitor,” I said, crouching down to scratch his chest. “You’re the goodest good boy ever.”
Sasquatch followed me over to the shop and took his place on his bed while I went into the office.
My office? Our office? Regardless, it was a far cry from my job working for my dad. There had been aspects of that job I’d enjoyed. I loved discovering hard to find cars or parts. It was fun to see an old rust bucket restored to its former glory, and the joy in the client’s eyes when they saw their new ride.
I didn’t miss the constant anxiety. The worry about what my dad was doing behind closed doors. Where he was going when he said he had a meeting. Obviously my fears had been justified. He’d been doing all sorts of things behind my back.
Working here was so much simpler.
I glanced around at the now-organized space. It was satisfying to have created a bit of order from chaos. There were so many things I could do to make Evan’s business run more smoothly and the amazing thing was, he appreciated it. He’d actually thanked me.
A question danced in the back of my mind. A question I didn’t particularly want to ponder, lest it ruin my good mood. Had my father ever appreciated me? Like, even once?
Letting out a long breath, I pushed that thought away. I knew I had some baggage to unpack when it came to my dad, but now wasn’t the time.
I set my coffee down and glanced at the big bulletin board on the wall. There was a new note pinned in the top right corner. Find ’59 Cadillac series 62 convertible for Chief. From what I’d learned about how Evan ran his business, some of his income came from cars he found and restored, then either sold or traded up for his next restoration. Others were client requests—cars people brought him to either customize or restore to their specifications. Those were usually quicker sources of cash, the kind of thing that kept a shop afloat during a project like the Pontiac he was working on now.
Tapping my finger against my lips, I searched my memory. Did I know someone who had a ’59 Caddy convertible? There was a guy out in Arlington who might, and that was only a couple of hours away. Another guy I knew with a lot of project cars sitting around was just outside of Seattle. He’d be another one to call. Evan obviously had contacts, too, but I figured I could poke around and see if I could find one in decent shape—especially for a good price.
Evan also needed help tracking down a few hard-to-find parts for the Pontiac. And he still needed a buyer for the Super Bee.
I wondered if Luke had any of the parts he needed. He probably did. But Evan wouldn’t bother asking. He’d rather drive hours out of his way than do business with a Haven—especially Luke. It seemed so silly to me, but their rivalry was deeply entrenched.
In any case, I had plenty to do, so I got to work.
Partway through the afternoon, Evan poked his head in the office. “I have to go into town. Hardware store. Want to come?”
Getting out did sound nice. “Yeah, I’d love to.”
He nodded and disappeared back into the shop.
Had I done something to spook him? Why was he so distant today?
Maybe he was trying to create a boundary around work. Or maybe he regretted making out with me and introducing me to his family. Or maybe there was something else going on in that broody head of his that had nothing to do with me.
It was so hard to tell with him.
I ran over to the house to change my shoes, then met Evan at his truck.
We drove into town and went straight to the hardware store. Like everything in Tilikum, it was quaint—a faded red building with a sign next to the front doors that read your hometown hardware store.
“I’m going to go look through the nursery while you do your thing,” I said.
He shrugged, like it didn’t really matter what I did. I narrowed my eyes at him as he walked away.
The indoor plants were in the opposite direction, so I let him go. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just keeping my eyes open for a plant who might get along with Myra and Blanche. Or maybe something for the office in the shop. There weren’t any windows in there, but if I could find something that thrived in low light, it would really perk things up.
A woman in a red Tilikum Hardware apron came down the aisle toward me. She looked to be in her forties, with blond hair in a careless ponytail and a friendly smile. Hopefully she was the garden specialist and could help me find some low-light varieties.
“Well hi there, Fiona,” she said. “So nice to meet you. I’m Olive Hembree.”
I blinked in surprise. How did she know my name? “Hi…”
“Looking for ways to make that dark old cabin more of a home?” she asked. “I don’t blame you. I can’t imagine it’s very cheery out there. Although maybe you’re used to that.”
“Um, do you mean Evan Bailey’s place?”
Still smiling, she nodded.
“It’s actually fine. I just really like plants.”
“Did you have a lot of plants where you were living before?”
That was a weird question. “I had a couple, yeah. Why?”
“I’m just so curious as to how that worked, being underground and all.”
“Underground?”
“Mm-hmm. How much space did you have? Did you really survive on canned food for all those years?”
“I’m sorry, what? I used to live in an apartment and ate normal food.”
“Oh,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “So you didn’t grow up in an underground bunker because your parents thought the world ended in 1985?”
I shook my head slowly. “No.”
She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “I’m going to have to have a little chat with Mavis Doolittle. She had it all wrong. Don’t tell me you really are a mail-order bride. I had the longest argument with Kaitlyn Peterson about that and I’d hate it if I was mistaken.”
“No, I’m not a mail-order bride either.”
“Pity. Evan Bailey could use a good woman in his life.”
I laughed. “He probably could.”
But was I actually up for that challenge?
“Is there anything I can help you find?”
“Yes, actually. I’m trying to find an indoor plant that can thrive in low light.”
She nodded again, as if that confirmed something, then showed me several options. I chose a cute spider plant with narrow light green leaves, since they’re both hardy and non-toxic to dogs.
I tucked the plant under my arm and looked around a little more. They had the cutest polka-dot plant, with mottled green and pink leaves. I kept thinking about that spot near the window where Blanche and Myra lived.
“I think my ladies need a friend. You could be their friend, couldn’t you? You’re not very big.”
It was a bit of a splurge, but I decided it would be worth it to make Evan’s house a little cheerier.
I took my plants up front and paid, then waited for Evan outside. He came out a few minutes later and cast a suspicious glance at my purchases.
He was still acting distant on the drive back to his place. I was starting to wonder if I’d done something to make him mad. Had I said something wrong at Gram’s last night? But why wouldn’t he just tell me?
I wished I knew what was going on inside that head of his.
He parked in front of his house and took his purchases into the shop. I brought my new plant inside and set her next to Myra and Blanche. I’d need to come up with a name for her, but so far nothing was jumping out at me. Dorothy, maybe? Agnes? I wasn’t sure.
“As for you, little pretty, let me show you your new home,” I said to the spider plant.
I tucked her under my arm, contemplating names, and walked over to the shop. This one might be a Margaret. Or maybe a Zelda.
Evan glanced over his shoulder at me when I walked in. I took the plant into the office and started moving a few things around to make room. It fit perfectly on the corner of the desk. I stepped back, put my hands on my hips, and tilted my head to look at her.
“I know, you’re an Edith.”
“You have to put your plants in here, too?”
I turned. Evan was in the doorway giving me the full force of his broody glare.
“I thought it could use a little brightening up.”
“It’s in the way.”
“It’s not in the way at all.” I gestured toward the desk. “She’s just taking up one little corner.”
“She?”
“Yes, Edith.”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course it has a fucking name.”
“So? I like naming my plants. Why are you in such a bad mood?”
“I’m not.”
I crossed my arms. “Yeah, you are. You’ve barely spoken to me today and now you’re giving me a hard time about a houseplant.”
Unraveling Him: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 3) Page 19
