Chapter 13 #2
He nodded, and I kissed his knuckles again before putting the SUV in gear.
Traffic dragged through town, but soon enough, we were crossing the Narrows Bridge and heading toward the peninsula.
It was winter, so no wildflowers, but the ferns along the roadside stayed bright and green.
Tall pines shaded the highway and threw patterns across the pavement.
“Are you going home for Christmas?” I asked.
“Nah. I’m picking up extra shifts. Some of the other servers have kids, so I’m going to work around their schedules while the kids are out of school.
My parents will have a house full of relatives and won’t even notice.
” Casey sounded casual, but something was tucked beneath it.
“It’s been years since I went home. You? ”
“With the bar still new, I figured I’d stay here. We’ll do a Zoom call Christmas morning.” I pictured my mom in the same terrycloth robe she had worn for twenty years while my dad yelled about batteries. “The restaurant is closed on Christmas Day, right?”
It felt too easy imagining him beside me in my space like he belonged there.
“Yeah. We’re open for lunch on Christmas Eve but close around six or seven. The day after is our normal closed day. What about the bar?”
“Closed Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. The staff works hard. They should be with their families without worrying about someone needing a beer.”
“And the rink?”
“Not sure. I’m the silent part of the partnership. You want to go ice skating again?”
Owning pieces of things was one thing, but having him beside me made them feel less empty.
“Ha. It was fun. I saw they offer adult classes. It could be fun.”
“Bub, if you want to learn to skate better, I can teach you. I don’t know if you know this, but I know a little about skating.” I tried to keep a straight tone, but laughter pulled at me. The way he trusted me with anything physical always slid under my skin in a good way.
“What? No. You do? I had no idea.” He grinned. “Better is a stretch. At all is more accurate.”
“That’s not true, bub. You did a good job. You’re just out of practice.”
“Sure. Let’s go with that. And if you’re offering, I’m accepting.”
Settled, Casey snuggled into the heated seat and watched the scenery. I wasn’t ready for him to fall quiet.
He relaxed so easily around me that it scared me more than any fight I had ever been in.
“Any more thoughts about switching to the kitchen? A few bartenders were bummed they got only one night of your cooking.”
“Not one. I like talking to people too much to be in the kitchen full-time.”
“It’s a shame the world doesn’t get more of that cooking.” He laughed but didn’t argue. “I was talking to Barrett about ideas for fixing the kitchen.”
“Like what?”
“Our kitchen isn’t working and customers aren’t happy. I’ve put off making a decision, but the writing is on the wall. He suggested parking a food truck in the back and turning the area into a beer garden, sort of like Stone and Vine but not as high-end.”
“Do you have a food truck?”
The way he said it carried more hope than he meant to show, and I tucked it away to remember later.
“Not yet. There are options.”
“What kind?”
“Buy one and set it up or contract with an independent one.”
None of it was a real plan yet. Something had to change.
His night in the kitchen last week was a bandage, not a solution.
A tiny part of me wanted him to jump at the chance and take on the project.
Another part hated that idea. It would keep him close but also keep him an employee.
The temporary nature of his job was the only reason I bent my rule about workplace relationships.
As good as his food was, it wasn’t enough to justify blurring that line forever.
I didn’t want him tied to me because of a paycheck.
I wanted him in my bed, not in my kitchen.
Whatever the fix was, it wasn’t happening today. Today was about showing my boy a good time.
Whelp. I was wrong. Totally, completely wrong.
I thought Port Townsend would be quiet during the middle of the week in late December.
The fog from the channel was heavy and blocked out buildings in the distance while the gulls screamed down at the boat slips.
Instead, the whole damn town felt alive.
Lights twinkled everywhere, along with kids with sticky fingers from kettle corn oohing and aahing as they walked past them.
That sharp winter smell of sea salt mixed with something sweet—fudge maybe.
And the heavy, wet cold seeped into the back of my collar like it was trying to claim me.
Every old injury I’d ever had ached. Maybe this was a terrible idea.
Casey walked close, his shoulders up around his ears, hands shoved so deep into his pockets it looked like he was hiding from the weather.
His breath made these little white puffs in the air.
I don’t know why that hit me in the chest, but it did.
He looked soft like that. Breakable in a way he’d absolutely deny if I ever said it out loud.
“I’m kind of cold,” he said, voice small but cheery. “Could we get hot chocolate?”
He said it like it was a big ask. I didn’t like that, didn’t like the carefulness. So I pulled one of his hands free and held it. Even in his gloves, I could tell his fingers were cold and twitchy before he settled.
Little asks from him always landed big with me because I knew how hard he worked to not want too much.
We barely made it a few steps before we heard a high-pitched squeal.
“Hi.”
We turned. A kid stood there like she’d appeared out of thin air.
Maybe nine. Maybe ten. Braids tied off with these tiny Christmas bells that chimed so lightly it felt like something out of a storybook.
She smelled like peppermint gum and watermelon, which was…
uh…an interesting combo. Her sweater was full-on ugly but cute.
A Christmas tree with beaded glitter and kittens and rainbows.
She owned it, but it was a lot to look at.
“You’re my favorite player,” she said all in one breath. Her cheeks were so red that I worried she might combust. “My coach says teams need players like you more than superstars because superstars get tired and you don’t.”
Damn, this kid knew an angle. My agent could have used her. “Your coach sounds pretty smart.” I nodded at her braids. “You gonna tell your coach she’s out here getting quoted like scripture? She probably deserves to know.”
She shook her head. Her bells made this little sad jingle that hit me harder than I expected. “She’s not my coach anymore.”
Before I could say anything, the kid’s gaze dropped to mine and Casey’s joined hands, then back up to Casey like she was trying to catalog him.
“Who are you?”
“Casey,” he said. “Who are you?”
“Maddie.” She gave him a slow blink, thoughtful in a blunt way only kids pull off. “Are you his boyfriend?”
Casey made a strangled noise, which would’ve been funnier if I didn’t also want to pull him behind me and shield him from the entire world.
“He’s a little shy,” I said. “And he hasn’t agreed to be my boyfriend. Yet.”
Her eyebrows scrunched. “Well, he should.”
That’s when her mom materialized from the crowd like a woman who had sprinted through every shop on Water Street and was one bad second from fainting.
“Maddie!” Her voice cracked. “You scared me half to death. You cannot run off like that.”
“It’s not my fault,” Maddie said. “I saw him.” And she pointed at me like I’d summoned her with a beacon.
Her mom looked up. Saw me. Went still like she’d been unplugged. “Oh my god. I am so, so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “She’s all right.”
“It is absolutely not fine,” she whispered. “Maddie, you can’t sprint across the street—”
“Mom,” Maddie said, rolling her eyes so hard it was a miracle she didn’t tip over, “I already told him you think he’s cute, but I don’t. And Casey won’t agree to be his boyfriend, and he should because he’s my favorite player.”
Kids always read people quicker than adults, and the way she lit up made something proud flicker in my chest.
Hearing someone else say it aloud pushed a truth I was already dancing around.
The Casey in question looked like he might evaporate.
Her mom made a noise that sounded like despair and apology wrapped together. “I should’ve known… You’re the one person she’d run off toward.”
“Maddie,” I said, keeping my voice warm, “that’s dangerous. Cars don’t always see little people.”
Protective instinct hit before thought, same as it always did around Casey.
“I looked both ways,” she said with that stubborn chin jut kids perfect early.
“That’s not the same thing as being safe.”
Her mom nodded at me like I’d just taken ten pounds off her shoulders.
But Maddie wasn’t done. “Casey should still agree to be his boyfriend.”
“You’re not wrong,” I said. “I think he should too.”
Casey’s ears went pinker than the sky. “I didn’t say no. You just haven’t asked me. Properly.”
His blush did something fierce to me every damn time.
Maddie crossed her arms. Bells jingled in rhythm with her indignation. “Well, if you want something, you have to use your words. Right, Mom?”
Her mom sighed like this was not her first rodeo. “Using your words is usually sensible.”
Casey rubbed his neck, bashful but not retreating. “I’ll think about it, Maddie.”
Satisfied, she gave me a double thumbs-up I absolutely did not deserve. Why she wasn’t playing piqued my curiosity. Sure, I was biased, but anyone willing to risk life and limb and her mom’s wrath to race across the street should be on the ice.
“You on a new team now?” I asked the question that had been at the back of my mind.
A cold gust rolled down the street, bringing the smell of cinnamon and something smoky—maybe roasting nuts—and it made Maddie blink up at me again. “Nah, I can’t play right now.”