Chapter 9
NINE
Grayden
I spent the next two hours in a quiet park, reading a paperback with my knit hat pulled low and coat zipped high. My glasses kept fogging up. It was cold today, and the snow from Thanksgiving Day was still thick on the ground.
The words of my paperback pulled me in. Transported me to another time and place, another identity, which was the thing I loved most about reading.
This one was set in the far future with heavy symbolism and social commentary, but also a fast sci-fi plot and some hot sex thrown in too. I was tearing through it.
Maybe I’d stop by Silver Linings to look for another read after I finished. Assuming I was still allowed in there, between Dillon’s evil eye and Piper’s wish to avoid me.
When it was time for my appointment at the house for rent, I took off my glasses, jumped in my truck, and drove out to my old neighborhood.
This was a different side of Silver Ridge. Only a ten-minute trip, yet we were far from the cutesy, touristy charm of Main Street. A humble mix of homes and businesses spread out before me, with tall pine trees and dead grasses dotting the spaces between.
I drove past an unassuming barber shop on a corner. A motorcycle repair shop, with a row of bikes for sale out front, all gleaming chrome and leather.
Reminded me of the Yamaha Supersport my buddy had in the Army. He used to let me borrow it. Before.
A pang of bitterness hit me in the center of my chest.
Then two clapboard houses appeared up ahead. I parked my truck at the curb and got out, glancing around.
My childhood home sat on the right side of the street. But I barely recognized the place. The former O’Neal residence was now tidy and freshly painted a cheerful yellow, and the sidewalks were cleared of snow.
My memories of this house were complicated. There were the Christmases before our mom died. Dinners laughing around the kitchen table with tiny Grace and our brothers.
And nights when my dad and I would scream at each other, back before he took off for good and before I left for the military.
My hands flexed at my sides. Shoving them in my pockets, I made myself breathe slowly through my nose.
I turned left, toward the Landry house. Where Teller and Piper had lived.
There was a For Rent sign out front that looked brand new, but the rest of the house had seen better days. The paint was faded and peeling in places. The roof was missing some shingles. Not falling apart, exactly. Just tired. I could relate.
Fuck, this was strange. The present and the past colliding, and I didn’t know how to make sense of it all.
Instead of going straight up to the front door, I walked around the side. Telling myself I was just checking out the property, getting a feel for the place. Not avoiding anything.
Sure.
That’s when I heard Piper’s voice. “I’m sick of your excuses, Danny.”
So she was the owner after all.
Sounded like Piper was in the back yard. My boots crunched in the snow as I edged closer. I wasn’t meaning to eavesdrop, but she sounded upset. Was someone back there with her?
“And what about our son?” Her voice cracked slightly. “I know not to believe anything you say. But Ollie still does.”
My jaw tightened. The conversation was clearly one-sided, so she was talking on the phone. I assumed this Danny was her ex.
“Whatever bullshit scheme you came up with this time, it’s nothing to do with me.”
I thought about walking away. It was rude to eavesdrop. Yet I found myself standing there, frozen in place, as she spoke again.
“What?” She sounded confused now. “No, I’m not lifting a finger for you.
What I want is for you to pay the child support you owe and be a part of Ollie’s life.
That’s it. Those are the only subjects I’ll discuss with you, not some…
I don’t even know what you’re going on about.
” She sighed heavily. “I’m hanging up now. ”
I heard fabric rustling, like she’d put her phone away. I was about to retreat and go to the front door.
But then Piper let out a roar of pure fury that would’ve been impressive if it hadn’t sounded so anguished. What the hell was going on?
I hurried around the side of the house just in time to see her bend down, grab a lump of snow from the ground, and hurl it at the enclosed back porch. It landed with a smack against the screen door.
“Piper?”
She was already stooping down to grab another handful of snow when I said her name. She whirled to face me, gasping, and the snowball flew. Caught me square in the chest with a solid thud.
I looked down at the wreckage of the snowball on my jacket. Her eyes went wide, her mouth forming a perfect O of shock.
“Grayden? I’m so sorry.”
I brushed the snow away. “No big deal. I think I’ll live.”
Her face was turning pink. “I was just…um. Didn’t know anyone else was around. You startled me.”
“No, I get it,” I said gruffly. “You’re the type to shoot first, ask questions later.”
She made a scoffing sound, staring like she didn’t know if I was serious. “Can you blame me? You’re a big guy. You kind of snuck up on me.”
“And now you’re saying I was asking for it.”
Her lips slid into a smirk. I returned it, hopefully letting her know I wasn’t actually offended. Because this was kinda funny.
Seemed like we both needed a laugh.
I bent down, scooped up my own handful of snow, and packed it into a ball. “I don’t think I can let this stand.”
She laughed. “Okay. No need to—”
My snowball hit her right in the middle of her purple wool coat. For a second, she just stood there, glaring at me.
Then she reached for the nearest patch of snow.
I moved fast, but Piper’s next throw caught me on the side of the head, almost knocking off my cap. “Ouch. You’re vicious.”
“Then forfeit, O’Neal.”
“Hell no. Never.” I dodged her next one and charged, pelting her with the biggest clump of snow I could grab on the fly.
“Half that went down my coat!” She screamed and danced around, breathless with laughter. Her hair was in a long braid and it flopped against her shoulder. “Not fair. Your arms are longer than mine.”
“Should’ve thought of that before you started a fight you couldn’t finish.” I launched another one, and she tried to avoid it, but her boot slipped. She stumbled, arms windmilling, and went down hard on her backside.
The laughter died in my throat. “Shit. Piper, you okay?” I started toward her.
She looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes as I approached. “I think so. Just help me up?”
I bent down, reaching for her hand. That’s when she grabbed my wrist and yanked, throwing her weight backward. I went down like a felled tree, landing in the snow beside her with a loud oof. Before I could recover, she started scrambling away while she giggled like a kid.
I grabbed for her. Piper lost her balance again, her weight falling back toward me.
Somehow, we ended up with her sprawled on top of me, both of us breathing hard as we lay on the ground.
Piper’s hands were braced to either side of my shoulders, while I had my hands on her waist. Her hair had come partway loose from its braid. Blond strands trailed down and brushed my face.
Her cheeks were flushed, plush lips parted as she caught her breath. Her pale-green eyes were brighter than usual.
Fuck.
Then she reached down, scooped up a handful of snow from beside us, and smushed it against the side of my face.
The shock of cold against my overheated skin made me gasp, and she rolled away, laughing. “Truce,” she said, sitting up and holding her hands in the air. “I surrender.”
“You surrender after a cheap shot?” I sat up too, brushing snow from my face and hair. My heart was still pounding, but the cold had done its job. Cooled me down.
Which was for the best, even if every part of my body was raring to heat things up even more.
I got to my feet, then reached down to help her up for real this time.
Piper let go of me as soon as she was standing, patting at her hair to tuck away the loose strands. “So. Um. What are you doing here?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m the one who texted about the rental.”
She blinked. “That was you?”
“I saw the notice at Silver Linings this morning. If it’s still available.” I glanced at the building behind her.
“Yes,” she said, though she didn’t sound certain. “I just didn’t expect it to be you. Or to have an impromptu snowball fight.” She laughed nervously. “That was fun, though.”
I picked up the knit cap I’d dropped, brushing off the snow. “It was.”
“I guess you want to see inside.”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Right. That’s why you came.” She started toward the back door, then paused and looked over her shoulder at me. Snow still clung to her hair, melting on her eyelashes. I wondered if she was going to say something else.
But instead, she led the way into the house.