Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
EVERLEIGH
“W e’re going to be late!” my mother yells up the stairs for me as I’m exiting my room.
“We are not going to be late,” I huff as I walk down the steps and find her wearing almost the same outfit I’m wearing: black jeans and a white T-shirt, our hair also piled on top of our heads in a messy bun. “Look, we’re twinsies,” I joke, and she smiles at me.
“Okay, can we go now?” She claps her hands together. “I don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Mom, they are contractors,” I say. “Their number one job is to always be late.” Again, the joke ends with me getting a smile before a glare.
We’re about to head out the door when I hear the sound of a motorcycle coming, and there is only one person I know who comes on this street with a motorcycle, and that’s Dr. Oliver. “Oh look, Mom,” I say, pointing at the street to see him getting off his bike and taking off his helmet. He runs his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Your boyfriend is here.” That earns me a smack on my arm. “Ouch.” I rub the spot where she hit me.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Then what is he?” I ask finally.
“He’s a friend.”
“With benefits.” Her glare should make me stop talking, but for once, I don’t. “Mom, why are you hiding this? He obviously cares about you, and you care about him.”
“Why do you say that?” She folds her arms over her chest.
“Well, for one, you haven’t killed him yet, and he’s been here every single night since you got out of the hospital.”
“He’s an old friend,” she reiterates, her eyes going to the door when it opens. “No more talk,” she says before she sets her eyes on Oliver. “What are you doing here?”
He shuts the door and puts his helmet down where he always does. “Good morning,” he greets as if my mother didn’t just ask him a question. “How are you feeling today?”
“Irritated,” she answers him. “You have to go; we are just leaving.”
“I know,” he says, walking over to the table by the door and picking up the keys to my mother’s car. “I’m coming with you.”
“For what?” I watch the exchange going back and forth, really wishing I was taping this showdown.
“Well, for one, I want to make sure you follow my instruction on not overexerting yourself. And for two, I want to make sure everything is what the two of you want.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” my mother retorts, “but I don’t have time to argue with you, so let’s go.” She grabs her purse before walking out of the house.
“That went well.” Oliver looks at me.
“She didn’t stab you in the foot with a fork,” I joke. “It’s the best you are going to get.”
“Why a fork?” he asks, and the memory of Brock assaults me.
“So it’s more painful, obviously. Four entry wounds.”
“You are your mother’s daughter.” He shakes his head, walking out of the house. I follow them out and into the car.
Putting my phone in my back pocket, I get into the back seat as Oliver gets in the front seat, and we take off for the bakery. My eyes look out the window as my mind goes back to yesterday when I showed up at the garage.
After he said what he did and left me there sitting on his fucking workstation, I jumped off and ran out, not looking back. I also decided that I was done. He probably did this to get another rise out of me, except I’m all out of fight. I have nothing left to give him. There was nothing that needed to be said. There was nothing that needed to be done. We are both adults, and we can coexist in the same town.
We pull up to the bakery, and I gasp when I see the coffee truck parked in the middle of the lot at an angle so everyone can see it from the street. “Oh my God,” I say of the truck that is painted all white with the writing that says The Best Coffee and Sweets in Town . “Momma.” I reach out to touch her shoulder as she looks out her own window, and I see tears running down her face.
“It’s so pretty,” she states, getting out of the car when Oliver puts it in park and shuts it down.
We walk, holding hands, up to the truck, and I see Ryan running over from the garage. “Hey,” he pants, “Brock just drove the truck over and forgot to leave the keys.” He holds up the keys for me. I fight the pull to look over at the garage and look for him. Ignore the way my heart speeds up just thinking about him. How my body aches for his touch and my heart yearns for him. Even though my head tells me I hate him.
“Thank you so much,” my mother says. “I can’t wait to see inside.”
“I’ll see you around,” Ryan replies, nodding to us before running back to the shop.
“He’s nice, isn’t he?” My mother pushes my shoulder with hers. “He’s good-looking, has a good job, and he’s a sweet man.”
I look over at her. “Then you should date him,” I retort, knowing what she was getting at.
She glares at me as Oliver chuckles but grabs her hand as we walk into the shop. It’s the first time my mother has been back since the night of the fire. She gasps, and I can hear her sob a little. Her hand goes to her mouth as she looks at the gutted space. Literally gutted with nothing there but the four walls that were salvaged. “It’s finished.”
“It’s not finished.” Oliver takes her in his arms. “It’s a clean slate is all.”
“Stop doing that.” She pushes away from him. “You always do the glass half full. It’s fucking half empty.” Instead of arguing with her, all he does is nod his head. She turns in a circle. “Is it even worth it?”
“You tell me,” I urge her. “Do you want to throw in the towel and close shop?” I raise my eyebrows. “Or do you want to rebuild and make it better than ever? Put your stamp on things the way you want them and not how you inherited it.”
She shrugs when the door opens, and I see the contractor enter. “Hey,” he says. “Jensen.” He extends his hand to mine. “We spoke on the phone.”
“Yes,” I reply, extending my hand to him. “I’m Everleigh and this is my mother, Madeline, and her friend, Oliver,” I introduce, earning me a chuckle from Oliver. “What? I don’t know what to label you.”
I look at Jensen, who just rolls his lips to stop from laughing. “Shall we get started?” I ask, and he nods, walking over to the middle of the room and squatting down before unrolling the plans.
My mother squats down next to him and looks at the plans. “This looks like scribble writing to me,” she admits. “I’m going to need you to just explain this.”
“Will do,” Jensen assures her and walks over with my mother as he explains where walls will go and how the kitchen is going to be set up. Then he walks over to the front. “And from here we are going to knock down this wall,” he says of the front wall, “and push it out twelve feet so we can add some tables. We were also thinking of maybe even extending this side wall about ten feet, so we can make an even bigger kitchen.”
“A bigger kitchen,” my mother ponders, “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Mom, you were always complaining that it was too small and you were bumping into things and there wasn’t enough storage,” I remind her. “Now is the time.”
“How much would all of that cost?” she asks nervously.
“That isn’t an issue,” Oliver speaks up, “we’ll do it.” My mother whirls toward him. “She’ll do it.” He smirks at her. “Better?”
“No, not better.”
“Okay, lovebirds, no fighting in front of company,” I tease, looking back at Jensen. “What are we looking at in terms of how long it will take?”
“Well, believe it or not, we have some folks here who will volunteer to do some of the work. Plus, my crew and another crew coming down from another section, we should be able to be working around the clock.”
“What?” my mother whispers as Oliver goes to her and puts his arm around her shoulders.
“The community has banded together to help rebuild this,” Jensen explains and even I am shocked.
She turns in his arms and cries into his shoulder as he rubs her arm. “So we can start tomorrow?” Oliver asks, and he nods.
“Our supplier had everything in stock. I already got approval from the county to expand, so let’s say, we start tomorrow at six a.m.”
We finish talking to Jensen, and when he walks out, I look over at my mother. “This is going to be good,” I assure her, and she nods. “It’s going to be everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
“Not everything,” she mumbles, “but it’ll be close.” I look at her, trying to catch her eye to see what she meant by that, but she turns her head toward Oliver. “We’re going to have a nice chat, you and I.”
“Oh,” he responds, “I can’t wait. Shall we get going so we can get this chat over with?” He slips his hand in hers and brings it to his lips. “Or how about I treat you guys to breakfast at the diner?” He pulls her out of the shop, and we head over to the diner.
We have a late breakfast and head home. When my phone rings, I look down to see it’s Autumn. “Hey,” I answer, smiling when I hear Landon in the background.
“Hey,” she says, “are you free tonight?”
“That depends. Does he have chubby hands and a gummy smile?”
“Sadly, no.” She laughs. “Our bartender called out sick. Brady has a baseball game with Wyatt, so I’m up to work.”
“Oh, fun,” I say. “Do you need help?”
“Yes, I need someone to help me not fall asleep.”
“Done, I’ll be there after dinner.”
“Actually, come early, and we can grab a burger.”
“Fine, twist my arm.” I laugh. “I’ll see you at five.”
“Perfect,” she says, disconnecting.
I take a shower before putting on a touch of makeup and sliding on the pair of tight white jeans I think I wore in high school. Putting on a white lace bra, I see the mark he left me yesterday on display, so I change it to one that is more of a bralette. I slide on the light peach, button-down, short-sleeved shirt, leaving the top four buttons open before tucking the front in and letting the back hang down past my ass. I grab my beige wedges before heading downstairs and finding Mom in the kitchen cooking. “Where are you going all dressed up?”
“I’m going to have dinner with Autumn,” I inform her. “By the way”—I kiss her cheek—“I started the dough for the donuts, so I’ll be up at around three to start frying them.”
“I’ll come and help you.” I shake my head as she says the words and I start to make my way to the door.
“I can nap when you leave,” she says.
“Don’t make me call Oliver,” I throw over my shoulder. “I’ll be back early.”
I opt again to walk to the bar instead of driving, missing the walks I’ve been doing these past couple of weeks. I get to the bar and see it’s not full at all, just a couple of tables lingering. I catch Autumn behind the bar. “Hey, what happened to everyone?”
“No tours today,” she explains, and I look at her confused. “We offer tours of the distillery,” she fills me in, “and usually, they always stay to drink and eat. But Monday is our off day, which means we have to depend on the locals. And, well”—she points at the tables—“that is what you get.”
“Well then, better for me.” I sit on the stool. “All to myself.”
“All to yourself,” she confirms and then stops talking when she looks up and sees ten people walking in with Charlie as the leader of the pack. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t think I’d let you work at the bar by yourself.” He pffts out, stopping in front of me and kissing my cheek. “Everleigh, these are my boys.” He points at the men following him.
“I’m Emmett,” the tall one beside him tells me. His blue eyes are striking, and his blondish-brown hair sticks out from the back of his baseball hat. They are all wearing Mustang Creek Ranch shirts. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” He smirks at me, holding out his hand.
“I’m Everleigh.” I extend my hand to shake his. “But we’ve met before,” I remind him. He started working for Charlie when he opened the ranch. Even though we only met a couple of times when I went out there to ride with them.
“Oh, I know,” he says, “I was just wondering if you remembered me.” He winks at me. “How are you doing, darlin’?” He pulls out the stool beside me as Charlie groans, and I laugh.
“How are you doing?” I ask, and he folds his arms on the bar.
“I would be better with a beer,” he tosses out, and Autumn just looks at him. “Please?”
She walks over and grabs two beers, handing one to me and then another one to Emmett. “So what have you been up to?”
“Not much,” I reply, taking a pull. “What about you?”
“Same old, darlin’.” He brings his bottle to his lips. “Same old thing.”
Charlie comes over and leans by my side on the bar as the rest of his crew grabs tables, giving the server something else to do. “So when are you going to come and let me take you for a ride?” Emmett asks after we finish eating. He’s standing beside me, leaning on the bar, while Charlie sits on my other side. The music is a bit louder than it is normally, and a couple of the guys have gotten up to show a couple of the other guys how to line dance. I’m about to answer him when a shadow fills the doorway. I would know that shadow anywhere, even in the dark.
He walks in and looks at the guys dancing on one side before shaking his head, laughing, and then coming up to the bar. His eyes look around and stop when he sees me, but he quickly looks away to where Charlie is sitting, which is right beside me. He walks toward where Charlie is and nods at Autumn.
“I’m sorry, what?” I turn back to Emmett, giving him my attention and not showing that Brock has any effect on me. We can be in the same room without anything happening.
“When are you going to let me take you on a ride?” He grins at me, and then his grin turns into a smile. He said it so loud you would think the whole bar would stop to wait for an answer.
“What kind of ride are we talking about?” I flirt back with him, but I feel like I shouldn’t because I’m only doing it to take my mind off the one person I should stop thinking about.
“Whatever ride you want me to take you on.” He winks at me, and then we both laugh.
“I don’t know.” I push out the stool. “Can you dance?” I ask him as my head screams at me this isn’t going to end well , but my heart. My heart is beating for someone else entirely. Someone who I vowed I would never love again. “Let’s see you move those two left feet.” I hold out my hand to him, not knowing what he’s going to do. I feel all eyes on us, but the ones I want on me are looking straight ahead.