Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Two more weeks passed before the island returned to a semblance of pre-hurricane normal, and by then, Thanksgiving was only a day away.
The tourists and traffic returned along with snowbirds and out-of-towners checking on their properties to make sure repairs had been handled properly by rental management companies.
Blue-tarped roofs were abundant, but every day there were a few less than before.
Gage had his hands full with ongoing issues and the increase in business, and there were BBQs and fundraisers to help those in need due to flooding or damage.
The community gathered whenever a hurricane or tragedy struck.
That’s one of the things he loved most about Carolina Cove.
Didn’t mean he had an abundance of time for the activities, though.
He and Sloane had settled into a routine.
Work, with her and Cole handling the rentals shop while he handled the other businesses he’d roped his brothers into backing.
Then it was dinner either at home or out.
Sloane didn’t like eating out, and he had a feeling it was because she didn’t like him insisting on paying the tab.
But he wanted to treat her and knew she didn’t have money to spare or else she wouldn’t be in the position she was in.
At home, though… Sleeping in separate rooms after sitting on the couch and talking about their day was starting to feel strange.
He knew they were connecting, forging something more than roommates or friendship.
Still, he could also feel her attempting to withdraw from him, building five new barriers for every one he managed to break through, and he hated it.
But every now and again, she’d slip, and he was able to steal a kiss or a quick cuddle. For the briefest moment, she’d lean against him, burrow into him, respond to him, before she’d stiffen those shoulders of hers and pull away.
She still refused to confide in him about her past and family, and his frustration grew higher each day that passed, but he hoped with time she’d grow to trust him enough that one day she’d start talking and not stop until he knew everything.
Maybe he hoped for too much. But he sensed her resolve weakening, which was why she tried so hard to fortify her defenses.
Balancing his public behavior where she was concerned became tougher whenever she was nearby. He was always aware of her, wanted to touch her, kiss her. Hold her close. Not maintain his distance and pretend to Alec and Brooks that they were just boss-employee.
To be fair, he wasn’t sure what they were, but it was more than that.
Cole picked up and read the situation with his usual insight, and Gage’s older brother continued giving him warning looks to tread carefully. But the rest of them?
No. He didn’t want his family riding him for details and issuing warnings where Sloane was concerned. Whatever happened, happened. And only time would tell.
On the way home from work, he video called Sloane and couldn’t stop the grin that formed when she answered. She was already home from her shift at the rentals building, standing in his kitchen. “Need me to stop and pick up any last-minute stuff?”
She appeared a bit frazzled but also fiercely determined, and it looked cute on her.
“No. I think I have everything for the recipe. Just know if it doesn’t turn out okay, I’m totally trashing it.”
“You are not,” he argued, forcing his gaze back to the road. “This is a five-star chef competition now. You and me. It’s on.”
“And you’re sure me being there is okay?”
He knew what she was asking because she’d already asked a dozen times. “It’s more than okay. I told you. Ky and his wife will be there. And Ana’s assistant manager might be coming as well. It’s a combination of family and Friendsgiving. Everyone is welcome.”
Sloane’s sweet face still looked hesitant and a whole lot guarded, but she nodded.
“Okay. That means I’d better get off of here and get started on this. So far, all I’ve done is gather everything up to have at hand.”
“Hop to it,” he said, glancing at the screen with an ornery grin. “It’s my pumpkin pie recipe against yours, and you can’t be hogging the oven all night.”
“So competitive,” she murmured.
“What can I say? It’s Monopoly and Two Truths and a Lie all over again. This time, though? When I win, I’m totally going for broke.”
“What does that mean?”
He glanced at the phone again and winked at her. “It’s a surprise.”
“No, no, no. No way. You have to warn me if you’re about to demand something crazy,” she drawled in that throaty tone of hers.
His grin widened because she just brought that out in him. “Okay, fine. If I win… I want you and me—and New Year’s Eve. We go and watch the beach ball drop and celebrate our two-month anniversary.”
An anniversary meant a commitment. And New Year’s Eve was over a month away, but it meant Sloane promising yet again to stick around.
Maybe it was a sneaky way of getting her agreement, but he’d do whatever it took to make that happen, considering he still knew she was a flight risk.
And if it came to bribing his family somehow to win, he’d do it.
Maybe after that he’d figure out another game and keep Sloane until Valentine’s Day.
Seconds ticked by, and he glanced back at the phone screen. She watched him, but she was silent, her expression wary. “What’s your prize going to be?” he asked to fill the awkward void that stretched. “Not that you’re going to win.”
She gave him a small smile and softly laughed, but he could tell that both were forced. His gut clenched in response. He’d pushed. Too hard. And she wasn’t having it.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“We could go somewhere. Take a trip. Get out of town for a little while. Would you like that?” With Christmas also around the corner, he wasn’t sure what to get a woman who didn’t seem to want anything despite her circumstances.
Maybe a trip would work? Just the two of them?
Snowcapped mountains with a hot tub and a view beyond the fire pit.
Or an exotic beach somewhere in the Caribbean.
He hadn’t had a vacation in years. Not since a spring break back in college.
And he wouldn’t mind seeing Sloane in a bathing suit.
“Maybe.”
Oh, yeah, the mood had definitely shifted, thanks to him and his prize comment, and he hated that he was in his truck in traffic while she was at the house no doubt overthinking everything like she tended to do.
“I should go get started on this recipe.”
“Sloane—”
“Be careful driving home. People are racing around all over the place. I saw three fender benders today in a few hours.”
“Merida, hang on. Talk to m—”
She ended the call.
He groaned at his idiocy of starting a fight before a holiday gathering. He felt as though he’d get them two steps forward only for her to take ten steps back, and this time, it was all on him.
He knew she was nervous about going to his family’s Thanksgiving dinner, and what had he done? Made it worse.
But after spending the last month with her… He was in.
All in.
Call him crazy. Maybe he was crazy to even consider it, and it was far too soon to give what he felt a label, but he knew.
He couldn’t imagine this town without her.
Couldn’t imagine his life without her. His home.
She’d made him rethink his schedule and how hard he worked.
Made him consider all the ways they worked as a couple.
He could picture them, side-by-side, planning for their future and all the possibilities it could hold.
For the first time, he felt like he’d found someone he could trust to be his partner in everything. Life, love, a home, and family. All of it. Everything.
Problem was, she either didn’t feel the same way—or she was too scared to believe it was possible. Or…both.
He wiped his hand over his jaw to keep from laying on the horn when a jerk shoved over in front of him and nearly took off his bumper instead of waiting his turn to zipper into the merge lane. Green lights meant moving a car length—if he was lucky.
Due to the Thanksgiving traffic, it took him three hours and ten minutes to travel the sixteen miles home. He tried calling Sloane again, but she didn’t pick up, and with every second that ticked by, his unease grew.
Would she pack up and leave before he got there?
The thought left him ready to crawl out of his skin and feeling sick. But he had to accept the fact that she actually might. They hadn’t talked about a future of any sort because whenever he tried to bring it up, she’d get all squirrelly, like she had on the call.
Finally, he rolled to a stop in the garage and headed inside as quickly as possible, taking the stairs two at a time.
The house smelled like Thanksgiving. Like pumpkin and spices and memories. Good memories, despite all the bad ones.
His mouth watered as he entered the second floor living area only to find it empty. “Baby girl, you are not avoiding me,” he muttered to himself. He kept reassuring himself with the fact her car was still downstairs, so she hadn’t left. Had to be close by.
He did a quick check of the floor in case she was using the bathroom, but when he didn’t find her and knew she wouldn’t have any reason to have gone to the third-floor bedrooms, he retraced his steps to the kitchen and fired off a text.
Where are you?
Downstairs. Bad headache. Turning in for the night.
He swiped a hand over his face and rubbed hard before going to the cabinet to grab some meds, then to the fridge. Seconds later, he was outside her door. He knocked softly.
Silence followed.
He knocked again, and this time he heard a low thud and unintelligible but obviously irritated mutter on the other side. One that had him smirking despite his own dark mood.
She opened the door a small crack but blocked the entry.
“Gage, I really do have a bad headache. What do you want?”