Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
brOOKS
It’s a quiet evening at Dirty Dick’s. The weather hasn’t been all that kind today, the snow wet and the wind blustering, so even most of the regulars have chosen to stay home.
All afternoon, Margaret was muttering under her breath, calling them wusses.
I ball up another old receipt and toss it across the bar. It sails through my makeshift goalposts and lands on the floor beside the other crumpled pieces of paper. I pump a fist in the air, and the lone patron sitting on a stool beside me cheers, raising his beer in a toast.
Luce sighs from where she leans on the opposite end of the bar. “It doesn’t take much to entertain you, does it, Brooksy?”
I round the bar and pick up my collection of papers, dumping them in the garbage. “I’m a simple man,” I say with a shrug.
She shakes her head as she walks to the back.
I reach for a cloth to do another pass over the counter, but my phone buzzing in my pocket distracts me. When I pull it out, an unfamiliar number flashes across the screen.
“Hello?” All I can hear is a groan on the other end of the line, but the sound is one I know well. “Hadley? ”
“ Ugh . I was trying to call the concierge,” she replies, followed by a cough. “Stupid phone.”
“How’s the ankle?” I ask. When I left her in the office with Thiago a week and a half ago, she wasn’t putting any weight on it.
“It’s fine now.”
“Why do you sound like shit?”
That isn’t entirely true. She still has that sexy Hadley rasp, but it’s clear that she isn’t feeling well. There has been a nasty cold going around town lately. It’s no surprise if it made its way up the mountain.
“Because I feel like shit, Brooks,” she snaps.
I mock gasp. “You mean to tell me the great Hadley Knight isn’t infallible after all?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait!” I clear my throat, realizing my voice has come out a touch too eager. “What did you need from the concierge? Maybe I can help.”
I may be a bit of a dick, using Hadley’s sickness to my advantage, but if this is the only way she’ll talk to me, then so be it. After our kiss, I’ve been hoping to run into her, but she’s either extremely busy or she’s purposefully avoiding me. My guess is it’s a bit of both.
Avoidance is her specialty. But I’m taking a sledgehammer to that wall she has built between us.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
“Hadley.”
There’s a bit of a pause, and I worry for half a second that she did follow through with hanging up. But then she says, “I just need a few things from the pharmacy, okay?”
“Text me your list.” When she hesitates, I double down. “You’re sick. I’m offering to run your errands, so let me.”
She’s quiet for a moment longer. “Can you maybe…write it down?” she asks softly. “My vision is kind of blurry, and I’m dizzy.”
That explains the wrong number dial .
I grab an old invoice tucked beside the register and pull the pen from behind my ear, jotting down the items as she lists them off. Then I add a couple of my own.
“I’m leaving the bar now. I’ll be there soon.”
“Brooks?” I pause, waiting for her to continue. “Thank you,” she adds quietly.
“Anytime, Hads.”
Once I hang up, I call out to Luce, letting her know I’m dipping out early. She doesn’t put up much of a protest—more tips for her. Then I shrug on my coat, head out to my truck and drive to the pharmacy down the road.
An hour later, I knock on the door to Hadley’s suite, the location of which I had to coax out of the front desk staff. It takes her a minute, but she eventually opens it, though barely.
“Hi,” she croaks through the ajar door.
I raise a brow. “Are you planning on letting me in?”
She frowns. “I wasn’t, no.” She sticks her hand through the gap. “Just give me the bag and tell me how much I owe you. I’ll e-transfer you.”
I hold the bag from the pharmacy out of reach. “Hadley, don’t be ridiculous. I brought food, and I’m going to be very disappointed if I have to eat it alone in the hallway.”
She’s silent for a moment, but I can tell her curiosity has been piqued. “What kind of food?”
I chuckle. “Why don’t you let me in and you can find out?”
With an eye roll, she gives in. The door opens wider, and I get an eyeful of her matching pajama set complete with dancing gingerbread men. It’s cute. She’s cute.
When I step inside and look around, I note that the suite looks as I expected it would—neat and tidy, just like Hadley—except for the blankets and pile of used tissues strewn across the couch.
Hadley notices where my focus has settled, and she curses under her breath. Rushing forward, she straightens the blankets and then scoops the tissues up, depositing them in the garbage in the small kitchenette. And then she slumps against the wall.
“Whoa,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut.
I set my bags on the counter and place a hand on her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Dizzy. I just moved a little too fast, I think.”
“Leave it to you to think you need to clean up right now,” I say with a shake of my head. “You’re allowed to exist in something slightly less than perfection every once in a while.”
When she opens them, her eyes are guarded. “My head already hurts. I don’t need a lecture from you, too.”
I sigh. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Now will you please go sit down? I’ll bring you your food.”
She reluctantly does as I ask, and once I’m sure she’s not going to fall over again, I turn back to the bags I brought with me. From one, I pull out the medicine I bought at the pharmacy, and from the other, a container of chicken noodle soup from the diner in Sugar Peak. When Vicki, the owner, found out who I was ordering it for, she gave me a second container on the house and threw in some extra crackers. Can’t have chicken noodle without crackers, according to her.
“Take this,” I say, handing Hadley two pills and a glass of water, “and then eat this.” I set the soup on the coffee table in front of her.
Grabbing my sandwich from the counter, I cross the room and settle on the couch beside her.
She shakes her head. “Don’t,” she says, leaning away from me. “You’ll get sick.”
“I don’t care.” I should care. I can’t afford to get sick and miss work. But I don’t move. “I’m staying right here.”
She levels me with a disapproving look. “Brooks…”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, sweetheart. Now what are we watching? Elf or Santa Baby?”
Her eyes narrow on me. I hold my breath, waiting to see if she’ll actually kick me out. But then she says, “Is that even a question? Santa Baby, obviously .”
I chuckle to myself as I pull Hadley’s favourite Christmas movie up on the TV. She watched it multiple times every year we were together without fail. It’s nice to see that although a lot has changed about her, some things never do.
We both start on our food as the opening credits begin rolling. Because of her, I’ve seen this movie so many times, I could practically perform the whole thing myself. So I find my attention drifting to Hadley as Jenny McCarthy does her thing on screen. She eats most of her soup, and then she burrows into her corner of the couch, getting comfortable.
Eventually, the movie ends, and Hadley turns in my direction. Although I know she’s sick and generally miserable right now, the content look on her face nearly does me in.
I don’t want her to ask me to leave.
“I know an apple a day keeps the doctor away. But what if you are the doctor?”
It takes her a minute, but then I hear that laugh I’ve been missing. “That is quite possibly the stupidest thing you have ever said.”
“Yeah.” I grin. “But it made you laugh.”
It doesn’t even matter that it was at my expense. I would do a whole hell of a lot to hear that sound again.
She shakes her head. “You’re a dork.”
“And you’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met.”
Hadley’s eyes roll, but I can see the blush blooming on her cheeks. I mean it, though. She’s always been smart. When she told me that she had gotten accepted to study in Brazil, I wasn’t surprised at all.
“So…” I say. “You called me.” I study her face, watching her reaction. “You still have my number.”
Eight years have passed, and she still has my number. I still have her old one, too, but I learned the hard way a couple months after she left that it was no longer in service .
Her blush deepens. “Shut up.”
I shake my head. “Sorry, I can’t do that, Hads. Because that means something.”
And so does that kiss .
“It means I have more important things to do than clean out my contacts list.”
“You can insist all you want, but I don’t buy it.”
Grabbing the remote, I queue up another Christmas movie. It’s on the cheesier side and not even in her top ten, but I can tell she’s getting tired. It won’t be long before she drifts off.
She waits for a minute to see if I’ve dropped the subject, and when she’s satisfied, she turns toward the TV. Almost immediately, her eyes close. I smile softly, chuckling to myself as she fights sleep.
Just when I think she’s finally out, she shifts on her pillow. “Tell me how much I owe you.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll have you fired from the resort,” she mumbles.
I grin. “Whatever makes you feel better. Still not letting you pay me.”
“Stubborn man.”
“Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Hadley shakes her head. “You don’t have to stay, Brooks.”
She doesn’t get it. Even if she were someone else—this is what I do. I take care of people. It’s why I moved here in the first place.
What I told Hadley about the bar having an opening was true, but I also came here to keep an eye on Margaret. She’d be the first to insist she doesn’t need help, but I know she appreciates all the little things I do to make her life easier.
Deep, deep down inside.
“I know, but I’m gonna. Now rest . You have to take care of yourself before you can tackle anything for anyone else.”
Her lips quirk. “Sir, yes, sir.”
I laugh. “Don’t be a smart-ass, Miss Knight. ”
Her eyes dance playfully, and I wish I could simply talk to her for the rest of the night. But she needs to sleep, so I swallow down everything I want to say.
She finally closes her eyes again, and her breaths eventually even out. I can’t be sure, but I swear I hear her whisper, “I missed you.”
I sigh into the quiet room. “I missed you, too, Hads. More than you know.”