Chapter 21
Scottie
JOINT ACCOUNT
“Ithink there’s one more,” I call out to Gavin from inside the pool house.
It’s move-in day.
After the wedding, we both needed some time apart to recover.
The silence on the drive back to Red Mountain was palpable.
I might’ve gone the entire way without speaking if Gavin hadn’t suggested stopping in North Bend for food.
He didn’t make a big deal of it, but I knew what he was doing.
Making sure I ate. Making sure I was okay.
When we finally pulled up to my parents’ condo, he killed the engine and sat there for a beat, fingers drumming against the steering wheel.
It was as if we both expected the other to say something—to acknowledge what we’d just done—but neither of us could find the right words.
So I grabbed my bag, mumbled something about needing sleep, and that was that.
Now, a few days later, I’m going forward with the plan and moving into the pool house.
My parents bought the story that Gavin was looking to rent it out. It didn’t exactly hold up under scrutiny, but they were more than relieved to get their living room back—and even happier I wasn’t packing up to leave town—that they didn’t question it.
Elyse wasn’t as easy to convince as I’d expected.
Her eyes stayed narrowed on me as I explained that Gavin had finally worn me down and that I’d be staying in the pool house for now.
She didn’t argue, but I could tell she wasn’t entirely buying it.
As much as I want to tell her the truth, another part of me wants to protect it—protect us.
It’ll make things easier later, when Gavin meets someone else.
Maybe then I’ll be spared the pitying looks for falling for a man in a marriage that was never supposed to mean anything.
“Last one,” Gavin says, stepping inside with my biggest suitcase slung in one hand. He sets it down by the bed with a soft thud, then straightens, brushing his palms on his jeans.
“Thanks,” I say, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You really didn’t have to carry all of them.”
He shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “Yeah, I did. It’s my job to carry the heavy stuff. I was raised right.”
I lift an imaginary handkerchief to my chest and give a slow, dramatic sigh. “Well, aren’t you the perfect gentleman.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he leans a shoulder against the wall. His gaze roams the length of me—a slow drag that lingers for a beat on the V of my shirt—making my skin flush hot under his attention. When his eyes find mine again, he winks. “Most of the time.”
I arch a brow, pretending my pulse isn’t doing weird things. “Careful, Ledger. Keep talking like that, and I might get the wrong idea.”
His shoulders lift as he tucks his hands in his pockets. “Not sure what you mean.”
I make the mistake of glancing at him again, and the grin that flashes across his face tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.
All these years, and I’ve never really seen this side of him.
From afar, I always knew he was charming, flirty—the guy everyone tripped over themselves trying to get noticed by.
He always had a girlfriend, girls I secretly hated every time I was over at the Ledgers’.
Not that he ever noticed twelve-year-old me hovering around the kitchen, pretending I wasn’t spying.
And then Lily came along. Everyone’s favorite hometown hottie turned into everyone’s favorite single dad, and somehow that made it worse. He changed after that—more private, more careful. According to Elyse, women still try, but they never get far.
This—whatever this is—is dangerous. Innocent, maybe, but still dangerous. Because I don’t want to stop it. I want more of it. I want all of it. I want to break every rule I’ve ever made and cross every line that exists. Kissing him already ruined me; anything more would leave me with nothing left.
Before I can think of something to say back, he clears his throat and pushes off the wall. “Oh—before I forget.” He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small stack of cards, holding them between his fingers.
“These are for you.”
My brows knit. “For me?”
He steps closer and holds them out. “Debit and credit for our joint account—and your insurance card.”
I take the last one automatically, careful not to touch the others. The insurance card is the only one I want—the only one that makes sense. The rest? Not so much.
“Joint account?” My laugh comes out sharper than I mean it to. “I thought we already agreed to keep our money separate.”
“We talked about it,” he says evenly, “but I didn’t agree.”
“Gavin, I can’t take those.” I shake my head, backing up a step. “That feels…weird. I have my own money. In fact, I’m showing a house tomorrow, so I really don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can.” His tone isn’t pushy, but it leaves no room for argument. “Married couples share things. The insurance should all work now—doctor’s visits, prescriptions, everything. The cards are just for day-to-day stuff. Groceries, gas, whatever you need.”
“This is too much,” I say quietly, crossing my arms.
He doesn’t argue. Just crosses the room, closing the space between us, and sets the cards on the counter beside my keys. “If it helps, think of it as logistical.”
“It doesn’t,” I mutter.
He smirks, a flicker of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think so.”
“Thanks,” I say finally, knowing he won’t take them back.
He nods once. “I’ll let you get unpacked. Get settled.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re calling because they changed their minds.”
Russell’s raspy smoker’s laugh comes through. “Relax, they loved you Scott. I’m just letting you know Off Script sent over the contract this morning.”
I breathe out a relieved sigh. I didn’t think they would take back the offer since the meeting went well, but given that my old director still has plenty of reach to destroy this, I wouldn’t be surprised.
What did surprise me was the Off Script director.
And the fact that she’s a woman.
As soon as our meeting began she looked me straight in the eye and said she’d heard the rumors. That she believed me. That she’d been waiting for someone to finally bring light to his antics.
And then she told she had been a fan of mine for years.
I nearly cried.
It was everything I needed to hear and more. To be believed. For someone to see past the narrative he’s trying to control.
So the decision was easy. I said yes.
But it hasn’t fully sunk in that I found a place at a new improv company, even for a fill-in job.
“Anything I should be worried about,” I ask him.
“Looked pretty standard—eight-week run with an option to extend. You’ll do three shows a week, plus the Saturday workshop if you want the extra pay bump.”
“Sounds great.”
“Go read the paperwork, then call me if you have questions about the exclusivity clause. And maybe open a bottle of something celebratory after.”
After our call ends I open up my email and read through what Russel sent. Just like he said, it’s standard.
I’m excited for the opportunity and I’m very grateful for it, but I keep waiting to feel more. For that little buzz under my skin to come alive.
Maybe it’s because I didn’t formally audition, so the excitement isn’t landing quite right.
Or the wedding consumed too much of me.
Because as soon as I said yes, I didn’t give it another thought until Russel reached out about the contract.
I should be preparing, studying their performances, honing my craft. I haven’t done any of that. And I really don’t care to either.
I’m not sure what to make of that.
Rather than dwell on it, I get ready and head toward downtown.
I make a quick stop at the pharmacy first. I give them my new insurance information and, thankfully, it goes through without a fight.
I pick up my ADHD meds—the familiar orange bottle feels like holding a lifeline.
I slip it into my purse, trying not to think about how good it will feel to have my brain quiet down again, to finally stop feeling like I’m vibrating out of my own skin.
Outside, the day is already warming. I pass by the theater and I’m reminded of Irene and our conversation.
It sounded ridiculous at the time, but the more I sit with it the more it doesn’t sound like the worst idea.
If only it meant I would’ve have to be stuck in this town, with people who see me as nothing more than Hester Prynne.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I find parking next to my mom’s car. Inside, both of my parents are chatting with Sheila, their part-time receptionist.
“Hey, sweetie,” My mom greets, eyes bright. “We were just talking about you. How’s it going, living in Gavin’s pool house?”
I hang my bag on the back of my chair and try not to read into her tone. “It’s fine. Quiet. Nothing too exciting.”
Not like I’m secretly married to him or anything.
My dad raises a brow. “There’s a lock on that place right? He hasn’t done anything creepy has he?”
“Gordon,” my mom chastises.
I roll my eyes, laughing. “No, dad. He hasn’t been creepy.”
Once my computer is booted up, I go to check my email before I start preparing for the showing. At the top of my inbox is a new message from Sandy Hale, the listing agent for the Wallula Lake property.
Hi Scottie!
The sellers were really impressed by you and Gavin and would love the chance to get to know you two better. They’re hosting a small weekend retreat at the property this weekend for potential buyers and wanted to extend an invitation to both of you.
Let me know if you’re available.
“Everything okay?” My mom asks
“Yeah,” I say, even though my voice sounds distracted. “I just need to make a quick call.”
I step outside and dial Sandy’s number. She answers on the second ring.
“Hi this is Scottie with James Realty. I just got your email.”
“Oh great! Maggie and Carl loved you guys so they’re hoping you can make it.”
“I’ll confirm with Gavin, but I’m pretty sure we’re available. What is the expectation? What should we be prepared for?”
“It’s an informal weekend—a chance to spend time on the property, let the owners get a feel for you, that sort of thing.”
“So like an audition?”
“Something like that. They’re very particular about who takes over the estate. I’ll send you more information this afternoon. Just confirm if you and Gavin are free.”
I glance down the street toward the bakery, toward the direction of the winery beyond it. “Yeah,” I say slowly. “I’ll talk to him, but I think it’ll work.”
When we hang up, I don’t move right away. I should be excited Gavin is one step closer to getting the house but all I can think of is having to act like a married couple for an entire weekend. Pretending is way too easy with him, and the line keeps getting harder to see.