Weston (Broken Falls #6)

Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Melanie

I 've never been so excited to go to work before in my life. Last night, after the discussion with Weston, Kara texted me and asked if I'd be willing to come in early and do prep work instead of working on the truck. That text has been my lifeline, a constant whisper of support and understanding. Somehow, she seemed to know I was on the verge of crumbling and swooped in with an offer of friendship I wasn't prepared for. I’m really not the type who cooks or knows what prep work even is, but I have to figure out a way to take care of myself here. I can't expect Weston to take care of me forever. I've always been independent since I left, and not having anything to do just won't work. It's not who I am anymore, and it's not who I want to be.

I walk into the kitchen and see Weston making his coffee. He's dressed for the winter weather outside, which is threatening to blanket us with more snow today. The beanie he wears makes his eyes stand out even more, creating a cascade of butterflies in my stomach the moment his gaze lifts to mine. Without realizing it, I smile.

"Morning," his voice holds a warmth, an unspoken promise, one that tugs at my heart.

"Morning," I echo, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.

"So, you're going to go help out today, huh?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I'm going to try," I laugh, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "You probably remember I wasn't much of a cook, and I really didn't know my way around a kitchen, but it would be nice to have something to do. At least over the past few years, I've gotten better."

He nods but remains silent, letting the quiet moment stretch between us as he takes a seat at the kitchen table.

"There's not much here for breakfast, but you're welcome to the cereal if you want it," he offers, his eyes holding mine as if they’re searching for something deeper than words.

"That much sugar would kill me," I tease, feeling an inexplicable joy at our banter. "You're good. I'm probably just going to get something later. I prefer my breakfast just to be a little more healthy."

He snorts, tapping his abs. "I mean, I'm pretty damn healthy, especially judging by the way you looked at me last night."

My cheeks heat up with the memory, and I hope he can't hear my heart pounding. The truth I'm not yet ready to reveal yet, hides part of why I left. Someday, perhaps, I’ll have the courage to tell him.

"That's okay. You might be able to have that much junk food, but I can't." I don't add that the sugar fucks with my diabetes, and while I'd like to have it, it's just not feasible.

He shrugs, still wearing that crooked, boyish grin. "Suit yourself. There are eggs in there if you want to make some."

I'm worried about being late, so I pass. "I meant to ask you, where is your car? You got here but then you asked me to drive you the other day."

I sigh heavily, reluctant but needing to ask. "On my way here, when I got into Broken Falls, I got a flat tire and dropped it at Broken Falls Tires. They offered me a ride, and knew exactly where you lived. That's how I got here. Do you think you can drive me over there on your way in today? I really hate to ask you for anything else, but it'll be nice to have some of my independence back, and I hate having to rely on you."

His face shudders slightly as if I've hurt him, and I instantly regret my words. The last thing I want is to push him away with my stubborn pride.

"You can ask me for anything," he admits softly, his voice tender and sincere. "How I've reacted has not been perfect, but I'm not a perfect man. However, I still care about you, so we'll take it over there and see what Milton wants to do about it. Did you already pay for it?"

"No," I sigh heavily again. "I didn't know how much it was going to be and my funds are limited, so I need to budget for it. But Kara told me that she pays daily when possible, and since I'm only working a few hours, I’m hoping I'll have enough."

I feel a swell of embarrassment, but Kara's friendship is the one thing I'm clinging to right now. I sit across from Weston at the table. "I promise I'm not a total fuck-up. I've managed without you; maybe not thrived, but managed."

He reaches across the table and grabs my hand with his, sending jolts of electricity directly into my heart. It’s a current of affection and longing that bridges the gap between tenderness and fear.

"Look," he says, voice barely above a whisper, "I'm a dick; I'll admit that. But don't feel as if you have to make yourself someone you're not." He pauses, sincerity flooding his features. "We've changed; we talked about it last night; we're going to start over."

"So if dropping you off at the tire center and helping pay for it is needed then that's what friends do." He smiles gently at me, and it's like the warmth of a summer sun breaking through the grey. "And that's what we're trying to be right?"

His words, simple as they are, touch something deep inside me. I smile back at him, a warmth enfolding my heart. "Right," I reply softly.

"We'll get coffee-to-go because it's further away from my job site today than normal, so we need to leave soon."

I'm already getting ready, grabbing us both some cups within five minutes of heading out the door. Weston’s presence beside me feels significant, like a new chapter waiting to be written.

Broken Falls Tire looks different in the daylight compared to when I initially arrived, cloaked by the quiet of night. It’s sleek and almost inviting with its manicured grass and newly paved parking lot. But the worry is there, lurking as we step inside.

The man behind the counter greets Weston with a familiarity that makes my nerves dissipate some. At least there's no hostility in the air.

"Hey, bud, how's it going?" Milton asks as we approach the counter.

"Not much, I heard Melanie’s car was here." He gestures toward me.

"Yeah, those tires were shit, honey. I had to replace all of them."

Dread washes over me, my stomach hurting. "I can’t afford all of them," I try to explain, my hands shaking at the numbers that swirl through my mind. Milton walks around the counter, casting a gentle fatherly glance my way.

"Well, I wouldn’t let my granddaughter drive on those, and I won’t let a stranger either. We can work something out."

Weston makes a sound beside me, and there’s something reassuring in the tilt of his posture, like he’s ready to take on the world for me. "We’ll take care of it, Mel."

"No," I argue, my pride stubbornly rearing its head. "I don’t want you to take care of it. I didn't ask you to bring me here for that."

He reaches forward, his hand cupping my cheek with a gentleness that leaves me breathless. "You know what? Just let me do what I need to."

I stand back, letting my pride take a monumental beating, but grateful all the same. They discuss costs and arrange a discount. Weston is done with the paperwork in a matter of twenty minutes, and I thank everyone, feeling the weight of gratitude mixing with the shame that I couldn't handle this on my own.

"Thank you," I tell him as we walk out of the building.

He nods, putting the receipt in the envelope and handing it to me. "You're welcome. Have a great first day at work."

A smile works its way across my face. "Thanks, West."

As I leave I can't help but hope we're turned a corner.

My first day of work with Kara is a flurry of new faces and lessons. I'm greeted by the sight of more cars than I expected. A testament to the viral food truck Kara mentioned. Kara waves over from a side door, her joy infectious and utterly comforting.

"Hey girl! Prep’s over here," she calls out, her voice making me feel welcome. "We’ve nailed this small truck setup; just wait till you meet everybody, and we’ll get started."

I’m so thankful for her, and the fact she's willing to take a shot on me. "Thank you for giving me a chance," I say earnestly, the truth shining through my words.

She laughs, her eyes full of mischief and promises of a brighter future. "You’ll see what I mean about the first day, girl. Damn, prep work is almost as bad as working a truck. Keeps you busy from eight till mid-morning."

"Never met a job I was so excited to fall into," I tell her, pulling the door open to a bustling, warm kitchen, greeted by five friendly faces. As the world comes into focus, I recognize Maverick from online. I spent a good portion of the night checking the food truck out on all it's social media platforms. "Maverick, right?"

He grins, a sparkle in his eyes. "Yeah, gone viral numerous times with the channel. A lot of people know me, I guess. I work prep in the morning, front of the food truck in the afternoon."

Knowing I’ve seen him before puts me at ease. In this small world, the unfamiliar becomes familiar quickly. "Alright, ready for whatever. Let me know what I need to do."

He hands me an apron and a knife, pointing at a big container of tomatoes. "Well, Melanie, the new friend, start chopping. We’re using all these."

Thankful for something to focus on other than my swirling thoughts and the unpredictable paths my life could take, I gladly start, letting my mind wander.

What would happen if this was my life now?