Chapter 24
Sugar, Sawdust, and Safety
Remi
The sun hasn’t even fully risen when I slip from beneath the covers, careful not to let the mattress creak. My body aches—in the best possible way—but my heart? My heart is in full-blown retreat mode.
Coleman’s in the bathroom, door cracked just enough for the sound of running water to echo out, grounding and maddening all at once. I gather my clothes silently, clutching them to my chest like armor.
This was a mistake.
Not because it wasn’t perfect—God, it was—but because I let my walls down. I let myself fall into him like he was a promise instead of what he is. A father. A man trying to survive his own mess. He doesn’t need me complicating his already full life. He doesn’t need the chaos I bring.
I pad toward the door, heart pounding in my throat. If I can just get out now, slip back into my room before the girls wake up, maybe we can pretend it never happened. Maybe he’ll still want me here—for them.
“Going somewhere?”
His voice is rough. Deep. Commanding.
I freeze like a kid caught stealing cookies. Slowly, I turn around, my clothes clutched tight in my arms.
He’s leaning against the doorframe, damp towel slung low around his hips, chest bare and still beaded with drops of water. His eyes are locked on mine—and they are not amused.
“I was just…” I swallow hard, searching for a lie that doesn’t feel like one. “Just getting back to my room. Before the girls wake up.”
His jaw tightens. “And why would you need to do that?”
I blink. “Because they’re kids, Coleman. They’re already confused and hurting. They don’t need to wake up and find me in their dad’s bed.”
His expression darkens as he pushes off the doorframe. “Is that all this was to you?”
I don’t answer. I can’t.
He takes a step forward, eyes burning into mine. “What do you think happened last night?”
My voice is barely a whisper. “I think… things were emotional. And people do stupid things when emotions run high.”
“Stupid?” he repeats, now only inches away. “You think being inside you—feeling you come around me like that—was stupid?”
His words make me flinch. Not from shame—but from how badly I want them again.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You meant mistake,” he growls. “Say it, Remi. I dare you.”
He grabs my chin, fingers strong but careful as he forces me to meet his eyes.
“Say it was a mistake and I’ll throw you face down on that bed and spank your ass raw for even thinking it.”
A breath hitches in my throat.
Oh.
My thighs clench, traitorous and burning.
His gaze drops, and a smug smirk curves his lips. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
I want to slap him. I want to kiss him. I want to drop my clothes and climb back into his bed like none of this scares me.
But it does.
Because I’ve never wanted someone this much. Not just for his body—for his everything.
He lets go of my chin, but not my attention.
“You want to run? Fine. You’ve got the day. Take your space. Wrap that pretty head around the fact that last night wasn’t a mistake.”
“Coleman…”
He raises a brow. “But don’t get too comfortable. Because tonight, I’m taking you out to dinner. No arguments.”
My stomach flips.
“I—”
He cuts me off with a wink. “Tonight, Remi.”
I drop my head, too flustered to think straight. Then I turn, practically sprinting to the door, heart pounding in my ears.
By the time I reach my room, I’m no closer to breathing normally.
And God help me… I already know I’m going to say yes to dinner.
My hands are still trembling when I dial. Not from fear. Not anymore.
Just... from everything.
The moment I hear my dad’s voice on the other end of the line, I already regret calling him. “Remi?” His voice is low. Sharp. Protective.
“Hey, Daddy,” I say softly, curling my legs beneath me on the couch. The girls are still upstairs with Coleman, and I want to say this now before they come down. “I just wanted to call and tell you something before you hear it from someone else.”
“Tell me you didn’t get arrested,” he deadpans.
I huff out a tired laugh. “Not yet.”
“Remi Joy.” He uses my full name and suddenly I’m thirteen again, standing in the kitchen after breaking a window with a baseball bat I wasn’t supposed to have in the house. “What the hell happened?”
I tell him. Not everything, not the bruises on Payton's arms or the way Paige flinched when Stella raised her voice. But enough. Enough for his silence to stretch so long it makes my chest ache.
“You’re hurt?”
“It’s not bad,” I lie.
“Don’t lie to me. I can hear it in your voice. Your jaw locks when you lie.”
I rub that very jaw. Of course he’s right.
“I’m fine, Dad. Really.”
“I want to see you. I want to see both of them. Bring them over.”
“They’re still resting. It was a long night. I just wanted to give you a heads up in case... I don’t know. Something happens.”
That’s when I hear my mom’s voice in the background. She must have picked up the other line. Only my parents would still have a landline so they can both be on the call. They hate speakerphone. “You tell her to stop talking nonsense and get her butt over here.”
“I can hear you.” I smile despite everything. “Hey, Mama.”
“You bring my girls home, Remi.”
“They’re not—” I stop, swallowing hard. “They’re not technically mine.”
“They’re yours where it counts,” she says simply. “And I’ve got cookie dough chilling in the fridge that has Paige’s name on it. And Payton’s wood heart? It’s still sitting out in the shop. Your father refuses to sand it until she draws the finish line.”
“I don’t want to push them today. They went through a lot. I thought maybe we’d just have a quiet day. Movies. Blankets. Just us.”
“They can still have that here,” she counters. “Only here, they’ll have cookies too.”
I sigh. “Fine. Let me ask them.”
I hang up and stand slowly, walking upstairs with quiet steps. My whole body still aches from everything—the adrenaline, the fear, the fight. But it’s nothing compared to what the girls must be feeling.
I knock softly on Payton’s door.
Paige answers instead, bright-eyed. “Hi.”
I smile. “Hey, sweet girl. How are you feeling?”
She shrugs. “Better. Are we watching movies today?”
I glance over her head and see Payton still curled under the covers, sketchbook propped against her knees.
“I was thinking… maybe we go to my parents’ for a bit?” I offer, keeping my voice light. “My mom wants help baking cookies. And Dad says Payton has a heart to finish in his shop.”
Paige perks up immediately. “Can I make the purple frosting?”
I grin. “Only if you promise not to eat it all first.”
“Deal,” she giggles.
Payton hasn’t looked up. Her pencil moves slowly across the paper in her lap, like she’s not sure if she’s drawing or just pretending to be.
I step closer. Not too close. Not enough to crowd her.
“Hey, Pay.”
She pauses.
“I want you to know… we don’t have to go. We can stay here, watch whatever movies you want, eat cereal on the couch, and not talk about anything. I just thought you might want to finish your wood project. No pressure.”
She doesn’t answer. Just stares down at the lines she’s sketching.
And then, so quietly I almost miss it, she says, “It’s fine.”
I blink. “It is?”
She nods once. “Yeah. We can go. We’re safe with you.”
I can’t breathe for a second.
That wasn’t just a yes. That wasn’t just an agreement to go bake cookies.
That was her telling me she trusts me. That after everything, after her mom and the chaos and the pain, she still believes I’m safe.
I feel the sting behind my eyes and swallow it down hard. “Okay,” I whisper. “Then let’s go.”
I reach out, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. She leans into the touch for half a second before pulling away, like she caught herself needing it.
But I felt it. And it’s everything.
Paige runs out of the room shouting for her shoes. Payton tucks her sketchpad away and climbs out of bed more slowly. I wait, giving her space, not pushing.
When she passes me in the hall, she pauses.
“Your dad’s the one who taught you how to fight, right?”
I blink. “Yeah. All five of my brothers and my dad. Why?”
She shrugs. “I think that’s cool.”
Then she walks away like she didn’t just rip my heart out and hand it back to me with a bow.
I let out a shaky breath, whispering to myself as I watch her go, “I think you’re pretty cool too, Pay.”
And for the first time in days, I feel like we’re all going to be okay.
I’m in the kitchen with a cup of coffee when I hear voices drifting in from the backyard.
The girls are outside with my parents — my mom and Paige at the patio table with a tray of cookies between them, and Payton out by the shed where my dad keeps all his tools.
I stand at the window, pretending to sip my coffee, but really I’m just watching.
Payton’s holding her sketchpad under one arm, her other hand fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She’s facing my dad like she’s working up to something.
Then I hear it.
“Will you teach me how to fight?”
I straighten up, heart skipping.
My dad looks down at her with that kind, no-bullshit expression he reserves for the big conversations. “Fight?” he echoes, setting his mug down on the wooden workbench. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”
“I just…” She kicks at the dirt. “I need to be able to protect my sister.”
My breath catches.
Payton’s voice is steady, but there’s something raw in it. That quiet strength I’ve come to recognize in her — the kind you don’t see until it’s breaking through.
My dad crouches in front of her, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s a big responsibility, kiddo.”
She shrugs. “She needs someone to protect her. Someone that will always be there.”
I turn away, swallowing the lump in my throat before it chokes me. I’ve loved those girls since the first moment I met them. But this? This is different. This is watching the walls fall, watching the way they’re learning to trust not just me, but my whole family.
She doesn’t even know I’m listening — and still, she said it. Out loud.
My dad stands, pats her on the shoulder. “Then I guess we better get to work. But first rule: you only fight to protect someone. Never to hurt.”
Payton nods, clutching her sketchpad tighter. “Deal.”
I slip out of the kitchen and onto the back porch, blinking back the sting in my eyes. Paige catches sight of me first and waves me over, her grin powdered with flour. “Remi, come taste this icing!”
I laugh, walking toward them, heart fuller than it’s been in a long time.
And when I glance back to Payton — now standing with her feet shoulder-width apart as my dad shows her how to brace — I know I’ll never forget this moment.
This right here… this is what family looks like.
The smell of sugar and butter still lingers in the air as I wipe down the counter for the third time. My mom leans against the fridge, watching me like she’s seen this dance before.
Outside, Paige’s laughter rings out as my dad lifts her by the arms and spins her around. Payton’s standing to the side with her sketchpad tucked under her arm, observing everything while Oliver throws fake punches in the air, pretending he’s Bruce Lee reincarnated.
“Alright, spill,” my mom says, nudging a mug toward me. “You’re buzzing around like a wind-up toy and haven’t stopped cleaning since we got the girls started out there.”
I give her a look, but she just raises an eyebrow and waits.
I sigh, leaning my hip against the counter. “It’s Coleman.”
“Obviously.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “I mean… things have been good. The girls are happy, and he’s… better. Softer.”
“But?” she prompts.
“But I don’t want to screw it up. What if I’m too much for him? What if I mess with the peace the girls are finally starting to have?”
My mom gives me a look that says I’ve officially lost my mind. “Too much for him?” she scoffs. “Remi, you bring color into a life that’s been gray for a long time. That man has been walking around like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’re not too much — you’re exactly what he needs.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “He asked me to go to dinner with him tonight…”
Her eyes light up like I just said I won the lottery. “Oh, a date! With a man! A real one! A hot one!”
“Shhh,” I hiss, eyes darting toward the sliding glass door.
She waves me off, then turns and cups her hands around her mouth, calling out toward the yard. “Hey, girls! How would you feel about spending the evening with Honey and Pops?”
I groan and bury my face in my hands. “You’re insane.”
“Honey and Pops” — the names they insisted on instead of Grandma and Grandpa — have been a thing since Tyler’s kids were born. And now she’s trying to bribe my maybe-boyfriend’s kids into hanging out with her just so I’ll go on a date?
It might be working.
Paige lights up and runs over, icing still smudged across her cheek. “Really?! Can we, Remi? Please?”
Payton lingers at the back, her sketchpad hugged tight against her chest. “Is that okay with you?” she asks, her voice quieter.
My heart aches a little as I walk to her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course it’s okay. You’ll be safe here.”
Payton looks between me and my parents, then nods. “Then yeah. I wanna stay.”
My mom winks at me like she just won a game. “Well look at that. No excuses now, sweetheart.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t hide the smile pulling at my lips. There’s warmth swelling in my chest, a feeling I haven’t let myself hold onto in a long time.
Maybe this is what starting over looks like.