Chapter 8 Keira
CHAPTER EIGHT
Keira
Brynn started up The Fast and the Furious, while I propped myself with pillows on the couch. I fell asleep sometime during the second movie and woke up groggy from my nap, finding a note on the coffee table.
Went to run a few errands and stop by Last Refuge. Text if you need anything. ~B
I set the note aside, again feeling grateful that Brynn was being such an incredible friend, and also guilty that I needed to be taken care of. I was going to have to buy Brynn something really special as a thank-you gift.
Brynn wouldn’t be able to stay here forever. Cole was still in Mexico, working on some case or other. Brynn was only here for me. I knew she missed her man like crazy. How long until I would have to say goodbye to her?
Frustration burned in my chest. I liked being out on patrol. Hiking up mountains. Helping people. Not just sitting on my couch feeling sorry for myself.
There was a knock on my door, jarring me out of those thoughts.
Immediately my pulse raced. My body jolted with alarm, sending a sharp twinge of pain through my shoulder and chest.
Mom, Stephie, and Brynn all used the electronic code to just walk right in. A knock meant someone else. A neighbor, dropping by to check on me?
Or…
I looked toward the front door as if it might explode inward at any moment, those masked figures materializing in my living room again.
“Get it together,” I told myself. “If your attackers come back, they aren’t going to knock.” Unless it was some kind of trick, of course.
That thought was not helping.
Sneaking over to a window, I pulled back the curtain. My heart thumped even harder.
Shit.
Dean stood on my front porch.
Okay. This was fine. I’d been wanting to know what he was up to, and here he was. I wasn’t ready to see him again yet. But at the same time, I wasn’t going to hide from him like a coward.
I could handle this, right?
Moving slowly to steady my sling, I made my way to the door, my free hand adjusting the scarf covering my hair. I was in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt, no makeup. At least I’d showered this morning.
My fingers fumbled with the deadbolt. I took my time, gathering my thoughts, trying to decide what I would say.
But as soon as the door opened and I saw him, face to face, everything sensible disappeared from my head.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi.”
Yep. That was my brilliant comeback. Hi.
He looked good. Why did he have to look so good?
Dean’s hair was loose today, all those light-brown strands framing his face and brushing his shoulders. He was dressed casually in loose jeans and a plain gray henley, almost like he wanted to blend into the background. As if that were possible for a man like him.
And he was holding a huge picnic basket. Which was odd, but somehow endearing.
“I hope it’s okay I stopped by. Brought you something.”
My hip leaned against the doorframe. “What is it?”
He smiled slightly. “Can I come in and show you?”
“Why should I let you?”
“Because I miss you. And I’m sorry.”
Not fair. Not fair at all.
I exhaled. His words had knocked the breath out of me. I wished I wasn’t still so affected by him, but some things were involuntary.
Maybe I was too soft. But he’d said he was sorry, so didn’t I owe it to him to let him explain?
I opened the door wider and stepped aside to let him in.
He crossed the threshold, set the basket down, and paused in the entryway, looking around. “Nice place. I was surprised when I heard you’d moved back to Hartley. I thought you liked Silver Ridge.”
“You thought I would stay in exactly the same place after you left?” I asked testily.
“Not what I meant.”
“It’s better being closer to headquarters. And to Last Refuge.” I sounded so defensive.
“Makes sense,” he said simply, and for some reason, that annoyed me. Why was he so easygoing sometimes, and impossibly infuriating at others?
“You’ve changed. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Have I changed?” he asked, blue eyes drilling into me.
“Well, there’s the hair. For starters.”
“Too long?”
“No, I…” My throat felt too dry when I swallowed. “I guess it’s all right.”
His dimple appeared, and that was way too much for me.
Goosebumps spread over my skin, prickling with sensitivity. I had to get out of this narrow entryway because there wasn’t enough space for the both of us here. He was too warm, and he smelled good, and my memories of him were colliding with my present in too many ways.
“Might as well come all the way in.” I shut the door. Dean untied his boots. He’d remembered I didn’t like shoes tracking dirt inside.
His socks were green with tiny skis on them, and I wondered if they’d been a gift. If some girlfriend had bought them for him.
Ugh, not my business.
I walked into the living room and sat on the couch. Dean carried that ridiculous basket with him, setting it at his feet when he took the chair across from me. He clasped his hands together, elbows on his knees.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I remembered what I’d meant to say to him earlier, when I’d opened the door. I was going to demand, What are you really doing here?
But when I opened my mouth now, that wasn’t what came out. “You missed me? Really?”
“I did. I really did.” His eyes were as soft as his voice. Dean never had a problem sounding sincere. Really, I couldn’t claim he’d ever lied to me or made me any false promises.
“Missed what about me?” I asked, because I was trying to be tough.
“So many things. Our hikes together. Your smile.” Both dimples flashed this time. “I miss our friendship. I messed up. I know that. But I’d like to make up for it.”
I will stay strong, I repeated to myself. My heart is made of stone.
I nodded at the basket. “That thing is the size of a small continent.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I drove out to this gift shop in Pine Creek. The woman there upsold me big time. But I told her I had some groveling to do.”
He got up, carrying that basket, and went to one knee beside me. Flipping the lid open, he started taking items from inside. “You’re stuck at home, so I figured you could use a care package.”
There were a couple new pairs of fuzzy socks, one with cats on them, the other with little coffee cups. Cellophane bags of nut clusters from Scarlett’s Sweet Shop. A lavender-scented candle and jars of local honey and jam.
A soft throw blanket in my favorite shade of blue. Same blue as his eyes.
“You must’ve cleaned out the store.”
“Trust me, there was plenty left. You should’ve seen the place. She tried to sell me one of those wooden signs with an inspirational quote painted on it, but I figured you’d kick me out for sure.”
An involuntary smile tried to tug at my lips.
“I stopped at the bookstore too.” Dean held up a stack of novels with bright covers. “The woman at the shop said these are all brand-new action adventures and really good. I was hoping you hadn’t read them yet.”
Ugh. I kept trying to keep my emotions distant, even though I was touched by everything he’d picked out. And he kept kneeling there, like that position was symbolic or something.
The stone wall around my heart was already crumbling.
“Thank you,” I said finally. “You can get up now.”
“You’re not going to kick me out again?”
“Bribery works on me, I guess. Also, I’ve been pretty bored, so you can stay a little while. Until Brynn gets back.”
“Gives us time to talk then,” he said, rising and taking the chair again.
I had to get myself back on track, because I was about to melt into a pile of goo. I was supposed to be hardened and cynical now, not the same girl I’d been two years ago who got her heart broke.
I called up the pain of him leaving. The ache of realizing that he’d basically ghosted me.
There. That was what I needed. Some righteous anger. But it was more of a fizzle than a bang.
“What happened to your knuckles?” I asked.
His brow knit. “My knuckles?”
“You had them bandaged before.”
Dean opened his mouth. Closed it again. He looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers. “I didn’t realize you noticed.”
The bandage was gone now, just a few red marks left behind on his skin. But yeah. I’d noticed. “I might be just a sheriff’s deputy, but I know what it looks like when someone has split knuckles from punching something.”
“When Owen called me with the news about what happened to you, I punched my bedroom wall.”
I stared at him. “Where?”
“Where what?”
“Where was your bedroom?”
“It was in Switzerland.”
A sound huffed out of me. Switzerland? “That’s where you live now?”
“That’s where I spent the winter. I was about to move on now that it’s spring. Hadn’t totally decided where I was going. And then I heard. I was… I’m not sure I’ve ever been that angry. Keira, when I heard what they’d done, I lost it.”
“But two years ago you left this country, then acted like you lost my phone number and my email address.”
“When have you ever sent me an email, in all the time we’ve known each other?”
“Not the point!” My voice was rising, and I could feel tears building behind my eyes.
There was the anger I’d been searching for, but it didn’t feel good. Not one bit.
“You could’ve kept in touch. I thought we were close. That our friendship was important to you. Then you just disappear like I meant nothing to you? And don’t you dare say those group chats made any difference. They just reminded me you were willing to keep in touch with some people, but not me.”
He sighed. “You’re not letting me off easy, huh?”
“You’re the one who said you’re sorry. I don’t even know what exactly you’re sorry for.”
“No, you’re right. I’ve been a really shitty friend.” He’d had his gaze on his hands, but now he lifted his eyes to mine, piercing me right in the heart. “I do care about you, Keira. It wasn’t about you. It was about me.”
“Which is the worst, tired-out excuse known to man.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I was punishing myself more than I meant to hurt you? I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you did.” I was trying and failing to keep my voice steady. “If you didn’t have enough reason to stay in Hart County, fine, but…”
“I left so I wouldn’t hurt you even worse.”