Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
TUCKER
The Redwood Roost was packed, the usual chaos humming—mugs clinking, kids squealing, and the kind of conversation you’d get only in a place that had perfected breakfast.
Which Penny had. She was a breakfast wizard. The scent of fresh coffee, sizzling bacon, and eggs so amazing they could be considered art filled the air, thick enough to make you gain five pounds just by breathing. It brought a false sense of normalcy that I could almost believe…
I spotted my family instantly—Hank in his usual spot near the window, slurping coffee like it was a bowl of soup, Caleb with Emma tucked close beside him, Ryder stealing sausage off Penny’s plate, and Penny stealing his toast.
So the usual.
I dropped a kiss to the top of Kiera’s head.
“I ordered for you,” she said. “But you should hurry and claim it before the heathens do. They’re eyeing your bacon.”
“Thanks.” I slid into the open seat beside Hank, accepting the full plate that Kiera handed me. I eyed her. “Why is there only one piece of bacon?”
“You snooze, you lose.”
Everyone around me was having fun, catching up—even if both Ryder and Caleb kept giving me quietly concerned looks, which I ignored—while my sister, ever the ringmaster of this circus, directed the chaos.
The twins were going all Hunger Games over the pancakes. And then Abi ate Alex’s bacon, and the world came to a sudden shrieking halt.
I gave Alex my last piece of bacon, which he promptly crammed in his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. That bought thirty seconds of quiet.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Kiera said around her own mountain of bacon, with zero guilt whatsoever.
“You could’ve given him yours, you know.”
“I already gave them my sleep, my boobs, and what was left of my bladder control.” She bit into another perfectly crunchy piece of bacon. “This bacon is sacred.”
Fair enough.
She gave me a second look and tilted her head. “What’s wrong?”
“Just tired.”
“Yeah,” Ryder said beneath his breath. “And the Easter Bunny just walked in.”
Abi and Alex jumped to their feet on the bench seat in our booth, heads whipping every which way. “Where? Where? Where?”
Ryder made a show of searching the café around us. “Sorry, I thought I saw him for a second, but I was wrong.”
Caleb reached to steal a piece of my sourdough toast, and I stabbed his hand with my fork.
“Seriously?” Caleb shook his head and glared at me. “That hurt.”
“No blood, no foul.”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “Just go talk to her, man.”
“Talk to who?” Kiera asked, eyes narrowing. “Hazel? Why?”
“Drop it,” I said tersely.
“Fine, jeez,” Kiera said. “You don’t have to be such a—” She broke off, glanced at her kids, then whispered, “D-I-C-K.”
Abi bounced up and down. “I know what that spells!”
Kiera looked horrified. “You do?”
“Yep! Dog! That’s what the letter d is for. Dog. Ms. Granger says so.”
Kiera had to work at keeping a straight face. “You’re right, baby. D is for dog.”
“But Unca Tucker isn’t a dog. He’s a firefighter.”
Kiera reached into her purse. “Sticker books!” she called out, waving them. “Who wants?”
The kids snatched them up, and blissful silence reigned. Not that it would last.
Kiera focused her laser eyes on me again. “Does this have anything to do with Hazel and your stupid ‘just friends’ thing? I mean, despite the kiss I saw you lay on her, you also put your foot so far into your mouth, I bet you’re still flossing with your own shoelaces.”
Caleb choked on his orange juice. “Damn.” He swiped his mouth. “Sometimes I forget how mean you can be.”
Ryder was still eyeballing me closely.
I hadn’t felt this exposed since sophomore year, when Sadie Roberts told everyone I’d used too much tongue under the bleachers during homecoming week.
Total lie, by the way. We hadn’t kissed.
We’d done a lot of other things, but no kissing…
And hell if I was going to explain whatever Hazel and I were to each other.
Mostly because I had no idea. We’d been sleeping in the same bed—at least until the sonogram discovery.
“Seriously, what did you do?” Kiera asked me, pulling out her phone. “I’m going to call and make sure she’s all right—”
I snatched her phone and tossed it to Ryder. Because I was over this. Then I nabbed Caleb’s three pieces of bacon and shoved them into my mouth at once. The crunch was glorious. So was the look on his face.
Caleb turned and eyed Emma’s plate, which still had bacon on it.
“Love you,” Emma said sweetly as she moved her plate away from him. “But don’t even think about it.”
The café door opened and in walked Hazel as if I’d conjured her myself, heading straight for the take-out counter.
She was in jeans, work boots, and a dark green T-shirt I hadn’t seen before.
Damp red waves were twisted into a loose knot, a few long silky strands escaping, flying around her makeup-free face.
She looked as though she’d barely slept either.
And just like that, everything in me kicked to life—heart, lungs, want. It hit me so fast, I nearly dropped my coffee.
God, I missed her.
“Invite her over here,” Kiera demanded.
“I think she needs space.”
“Or maybe she needs you, dumbass.”
Hank gave me a thumbs-up. Which might’ve meant he agreed. Or that he just liked the pancakes Emma was cutting for him.
Hazel spoke to the woman at the counter, then stepped aside to wait. She scanned the room for a moment, and bam, her eyes locked onto mine like she’d felt me thinking about her.
Her expression shifted. Not a smile. Not quite. But not nothing either.
Time hiccuped even as my pulse kicked. For that single heartbeat, it was just me and her. The rest of the world faded away, the noise of the café, my family, everything. Just me and Hazel, frozen in place.
A server handed her a coffee to go. She looked like she might bolt. But…she didn’t.
“Hazel!” Caleb called out to her, waving cheerfully. “Over here!”
Ryder immediately started shuffling people around to make space.
Fucking nosy busybodies, all of them. I never should’ve told them the truth.
Hazel hesitated, knuckles white around the to-go cup like it was an emotional shield. The weight of her gaze, heavy and unsure, settled in my chest like a stone.
So much unsaid between us. So many barriers.
I gave her a small but genuine smile and nodded that I wanted her here. With us.
Something in her shoulders eased. Only a little. But it was enough. She drew a deep breath and made her way toward our booth.
Penny got to her first. “Hazel! That light you fixed out front? I don’t trip over that damn sidewalk anymore. My knees thank you.”
She shrugged, trying to play it off, but I could tell Penny’s words meant something to her.
Kiera patted the empty space at her side.
Hazel sat, accepting hugs from Abi and Alex, who happily scrambled into her lap. “Hey, cuties,” she murmured.
The sight of her cuddling the twins like she’d been doing it for years, like she really belonged here, was a part of us, knocked the breath out of me.
“How are you doing?” Hazel asked them, voice soft, smile genuine. “I’m sure you’ve been precious angels, haven’t you?”
“Oh, they’ve been something all right,” Kiera said. “We owe Penny a massive tip for keeping a straight face when Abi tried to order the ‘vagina’ for breakfast instead of lasagna.”
Hazel laughed, the sound warm and real, and I felt some of my tension release.
Conversation flowed easily around us. Ryder thanked her again for stepping in when we’d needed her skill set after losing Ricky, complimenting the job she’d done re-creating complicated century-old crown moldings, calling her the best finisher we’d had in years.
All true. She’d done an incredible job, as always throwing herself wholeheartedly into everything she did.
At Ryder’s assessment of her work, something flickered across her face—surprise, maybe—as she shifted on the bench, like praise wasn’t something she was used to hearing.
But I knew how hard she’d worked to get here. How much effort she’d put into proving herself. “It’s true,” I said. “Your work is incredible.”
Our eyes met. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without Tex and Annie, and all of you. Working jobs is easy when you’ve got a solid team behind you. Haven’t had that in a hot minute.”
It was the first time she’d opened up about her time away, and her words hung in the air, all of us aware she was talking about more than just construction sites.
“You’ve always had us,” I said. “But as for work, we should’ve hired you sooner.”
Kiera reached for Hazel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “What Tucker said.”
Ryder leaned forward, voice serious. “He’s right. I was wrong not to hire you the minute you stepped back into Star Falls. You deserved better from me. I’m sorry.”
“Whoa.” Caleb pulled out his phone. “Say that again.”
Ryder subtly rubbed his nose with his middle finger, then looked at Hazel, eyes regretful. It was impressive, because Ryder rarely if ever did regretful. “Tucker wanted me to hire you from the jump,” he said. “I hesitated, but I think your mom would’ve wanted this.”
We were all stunned. First admitting regret, and now admitting to being wrong. I looked over at Hazel for her reaction. Her lips had parted in shock. She gave me a small smile, and I realized it wasn’t Ryder’s apology that had shocked her.
It was learning that I’d stood up for her.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m happy it’s working out now.”
“I’m not going to hesitate again,” Ryder said. “From here on out, all our finish-carpentry contracts will be offered to you first. You don’t have to take them, of course; I just want you to know that.”
At the stunned but marveled look on Hazel’s face, I felt my throat go thick. I’d known Ryder was going to offer that to her; we’d talked about it. It wasn’t a favor—we wanted the best of the best, and that was Hazel.
Around us, the café was getting crowded. Some of my crew came in the front door in their turnout gear; Jayden, Tessa, Marcus, and Harlow, clearly seeking breakfast. When they saw me, they veered in my direction.