Chapter Twelve
Chase
This might just be the first time I've hated the sunrise washing over Stone River Mountain.
The cabin at Fox Hollow Lodge smells like butter and coffee and the kind of lazy Sunday morning that should be amazing, but isn't.
Because it's ending in four hours.
I'm sprawled in one of those plush robes, watching Piper demolish a chocolate croissant with the kind of focus she usually reserves for stealing my fries.
Her hair's still damp from the shower we definitely didn't need to share, but absolutely did anyway. She's wearing my flannel over the robe because apparently that's her signature look now.
I like it.
The breakfast spread Nora left is incredible.
Flaky croissants, little pots of raspberry jam and honey, fresh berries flushing bright colors beside a French press of coffee so good it makes the station brew taste like dirty snow.
I'm staring like a creeper, trying to commit every detail of Piper to memory.
How she tucks her feet under my thigh for warmth. The small sound she makes when she finds a particularly good bite. Her tongue licking every crumb of that sexy bottom lip.
Because in four hours, she'll be thirty thousand feet in the air, and I'll be back in my apartment trying to remember how I survived weekends before she crashed into my life wearing designer heels and zero survival skills.
A knock interrupts my spiral.
"If that's housekeeping, tell them we're not done yet," Piper says through a mouthful of pastry.
I open the door to find Brooke and Jamie, both looking annoyingly well-rested and smug.
"Morning, lovebirds." Brooke breezes past me without asking.
"Sure, come in," I say sarcastically, shaking hands with Jamie as he shakes his head at his new girlfriend.
Brooke pulls up a seat beside Piper. "We're here to steal pastries and judge your life choices."
Jamie follows with that smirk that usually makes me want to tackle him into a snowbank. "Woman's right. You two have been radio silent since Friday night. I was starting to think Morrison got eaten by a bear."
"The only thing getting eaten—" Piper starts.
"Nope." Brooke holds up a hand. "You know my rules. It's too early. I need coffee before sex jokes."
Piper grins and throws a blueberry in her mouth.
"So." Brooke spreads raspberry jam on a croissant with her doctorly touch—perfectly even application and no bare edges. "Babe, blink twice if you were kidnapped by a mountain grump this weekend."
"We were… detained," Piper says, dodging my eyes.
Jamie studies me over the rim of the mug of coffee he's helped himself to. "You've both got that post-Fox-Hollow glow. And yet… you're weirdly quiet."
I shrug, reaching for more coffee. "Saving my voice for when I kick your ass at darts later."
"Psychological translation," Brooke announces, "he's not ready for Sunday drop-off."
Fuck.
The words land like a stone in my chest.
Because she's right.
I'm not ready. Last night I told Piper things I've never said out loud. About Mom leaving, about feeling like I wasn't enough to make her stay, about Lily's gummy bears being the only thread connecting me to a family that chose an entirely different continent over me.
I woke up this morning feeling soft and raw, but weirdly good about it.
Like maybe telling someone doesn't make you weak… it just makes you known.
But now it's Sunday, and that old bruise is right at skin level where the day can squeeze it. Squeeze it hard.
Another knock saves me from having to respond.
Nora reappears with her clipboard and that serene smile.
"Just collecting keys, but please, don't rush.
" She sets a wicker basket on the table, packed with snacks.
I see a bunch of fancy granola bars, bottled spring water, those little cheese and cracker things that cost eight dollars at the airport.
"And dropping off a little something for the road.
For a smooth trip home," she adds, smiling at Piper.
The word home hits different when it means Chicago instead of here.
Nora disappears and Piper and Brooke descend on the basket like raccoons the minute she's out of sight.
"I'm having the sweet stuff!" Brooke shouts, hip-checking Piper on the way across the room.
"Touch the dark chocolate and I'll tell Jamie about your secret stash of romance novels," Piper threatens, snatching three bars.
Jamie spits in his coffee as the girls continue their assault on the basket. I watch them, trying to ignore the tightness in my throat as Piper cheers when she lays claim to the block of dark chocolate.
Jamie catches my eye and tilts his head toward the deck. "Time for a chat?"
I follow him outside, while inside, Piper laughs at something Brooke does with the empty basket. Jamie closes the door and my chest does that achy stretch that's becoming too familiar.
"You good, man?" Jamie leans against the railing, studying me for a moment.
I keep my eyes on Piper through the window. She's gesturing wildly with a croissant, making Brooke crack up. "I guess."
He waits, because Jamie's learned that silence gets you further than more questions.
"What choice do I have?" I throw my arms up, unsure on what else to do. "She's leaving and there's nothing I can do."
Jamie nods quietly, showing the gruff strength that actually made it through the military training I never could. The man took three tours of Afghanistan and came back knowing exactly who he is.
Why can't I be more like that?
Jamie doesn't spiral. Doesn't obsess over text messages or count down hours until someone comes back. He's just… confident. Complete. Whole without needing someone else to fill the gaps.
And here I am, literally gutted over a woman I've known for two weekends.
Two weekends!
What kind of pathetic excuse for a man falls this hard, this fast, over someone who keeps leaving?
The Army knew. They saw it early.
Saw I'm too soft, too needy, too much feeling for a world that requires you to shut it down and soldier on through.
Jamie would never beg someone to stay. Would never plan his entire week around Friday arrivals and Sunday departures. Would never lie awake at night wondering if he's enough to make someone choose him over their real life.
She leaves every Sunday because I can't give her what she needs. Can't be successful enough, established enough, man enough to make her stay.
If I were stronger—if I were more like Jamie, like Beau, like any of the actual heroes on this mountain—maybe she'd want more than stolen weekends.
I glance at him, staying silent because… what's the point?
"Look, Chase… I know you're pretty new to these parts," Jamie finally finds his voice and continues, steady as the mountain beneath us. "But around here, we don't bleed out alone. In Stone River, there's always something you can do, whether that's today… or later. When it's appropriate."
I grip the railing harder, knuckles going white. "What if there isn't a later? What if she gets back to Chicago and realizes this was just a fun escape from her real life?"
Jamie shifts his weight, that tactical patience settling over him like armor. "You think Brooke came here planning to stay?"
I blink. "What?"
"She showed up running from burnout, convinced she'd do a few months and bolt back to Chicago the second something better came along." He takes a long pull of coffee. "She told me straight up she wasn't staying. Made it real clear this was temporary."
"But she—"
"Stayed," Jamie finishes. "Because somewhere between fighting me on protocols and falling in love with this community, she realized home isn't always the place you started. Sometimes it's the place that sees you for who you truly are... in here."
He presses a firm finger into my chest, directly over my heart.
"Piper likes you, Chase. Question is—do you trust her enough to let her figure out what she needs before you go and screw it up?"
"So what… I just… let her figure it out?" I puff my cheeks and pop my eyes. "I'm not usually a gambling man, Strike."
Jamie's mouth quirks. "Then stop betting against yourself and start playing to your strengths."
He gestures back toward the cabin, where Piper's still laughing with Brooke through the window.
"You think she flew back here for the scenery? You think any of this—" he waves at the cabin, the mountains, the whole damn weekend "—happened by accident?"
I open my mouth but he keeps going.
"Keep being exactly who you are, Morrison.
Keep doing this." He gestures at the thoughtful surprises I've planned, the flannel shirts, the way I make her laugh.
"There's a reason this entire town loves you.
There's a reason you've found a home here in Stone River.
And there's a reason Piper keeps coming back. "
My throat tightens.
"You're a pretty amazing guy, Chase. And if you can't see that yet..." Jamie claps my shoulder. "Then maybe it's time you started trusting the people who already do."
He heads back inside, leaving me gripping the railing. I turn to see Piper snatch the last jar of raspberry preserves and dive dramatically for the bed. Brooke tackles her, both of them laughing like teenagers, and Jamie shakes his head with fond exasperation.
She catches my eye and smiles—that real one, the one that makes my chest ache.
Keep being yourself.
Yeah. I can do that.
But before I can process that, Brooke's voice cuts through the glass. "Quick, Jamie! Let's go! We're stealing the good jam!"
"Come on," Jamie says. "Before they destroy the place."
The rest of the morning flies by.
We leave Fox Hollow to pack Piper's bag back at my apartment. While she's not looking, I tuck a pack of gummy bears into the side pocket where she'll find them later.
Before we walk out the door, she pulls me down for a kiss that tastes like goodbye and see you soon and all the things we're not saying.
The drive to the airport is too short and too long. She wears my flannel the whole way, sleeves rolled up, looking more like she belongs here than in whatever penthouse prison she's returning to.