Chapter Twenty-Three PAISLEY
Chapter Twenty-Three
PAISLEY
“Um, I talked to him just last week. Surely, you've seen him around town since then?” I prompted.
I’d just started driving after Phoebe and Susannah dropped me off at my car at an exit near the highway where we’d met up before driving together for our shopping trip.
I could practically picture my mother's face right then.
There would be a little crease between her brows, and she would blink before she could press her lips together.
“I haven't seen your brother around town. And, you know, I'm worried,” my mother replied.
“Worried about what?” I countered, trying to keep my tone light while my gut was churning.
“A mother's intuition. I don't have any reason, but I just have a bad feeling about what's going on.”
“What's going on? I don't even know what you're talking about, Mom.”
I didn't specifically, but then I did.
“Nothing’s adding up. Your brother's constantly traveling for work.
He doesn't stay in touch like he used to, and I ran into Chris.
You know, his old friend? He looks terrible and was vague when we spoke.
Ryder doesn't even play in the local baseball league anymore like he used to.
When I asked him about it, he lied to me.
I know there's tension between the two of you as well. Can you tell me what's going on?”
I clenched my teeth to keep from groaning out loud.
It was true that I'd wanted to move to Alaska anyway.
It was true that I loved being a hotshot firefighter.
Yet it was also true that I had been beyond relieved to discover an opportunity to leave my hometown and put over two thousand miles between me and the mess my brother had created.
I didn't like lying for him, and I hated knowing the truth.
“Mom, I think you should talk to Ryder. We’ve had our ups and downs. He doesn't love my career choice and thinks it's too risky.”
That was also true, and that was fucking rich coming from him—a guy whose accidental career choice was a designer drug dealer.
My mother clucked—she actually clucked. “Paisley, your job is risky. We know you love it, so we support it, but your brother worries.”
Oh. My. God. She had no idea the mess he was dealing with, yet she was siding with him on his worries about my career.
“Ri-iiight,” I said slowly. “Tell me how Dad's doing.” Changing the subject was my best option to stop this interrogation.
“He's busy as ever. That drug case is wearing him down, and it worries me.”
“I know, I know,” I offered soothingly. “Tell him I miss him. I need to go, Mom. I love you both.”
“Love you too, honey. Talk to you next week.”
The line went quiet in my car, and I tapped to turn the speakers off before letting out a heavy sigh.
My hands were clenched on the steering wheel.
I stretched my fingers and shook the tension loose.
I was tempted to call my brother, so very tempted, but I refused.
He was going to have to figure this out.
A few minutes later, I turned onto Main Street in Willow Brook.
Maybe I'd only been here a short while, but it was starting to feel good to come home.
The sign for Firehouse Café was bright and cheerful in the late afternoon. I saw Maisie walking down the street with a coffee in one hand and her son's hand in her other. She lifted her coffee cup as I passed by with a wave. As I drove past Willow Brook Fire & Rescue, my lips tugged into a smile.
Now that Russell and I had managed the tension between us—if burning it off skin to skin was “managing” it—I felt good about work. Well, minus the temptation to ogle Russell. I'd have to be more careful.
As I drove past Wildlands and turned down the road that led to the lake house, a subtle sizzle of anticipation vibrated through my body.
I wondered if Russell would be home, and I was already impatient for tonight.
During the day, we were keeping our boundaries clear, but all bets were off at night. Those hours were ours.