Chapter 10 #2
She draws in a quiet breath. “About you? Of course, Brax. But I try not to let it linger, you know? Otherwise, I don’t think I’d ever breathe.
Your mom has given me lots of good advice about how to make it through each shift, and what might happen.
” There’s a long pause as I try to shake my thoughts off like they’re clinging cobwebs. “What’s going on, Brax?”
“I’m just tired,” I tell her quietly. “I didn’t sleep well. It’ll be good when everything gets back to normal. Mom wants us to go to dinner on Sunday.”
I can hear the smile when she says, “I can do Sunday. I’ll send her a message, see if she needs me to bring anything.”
The coffee machine beeps, and I say, “Sounds good. Hey, I’ve gotta go, baby. I’ll call you when I can, okay?”
“Okay,” she says quietly. “Be safe, okay?”
My eyes burn a little, hearing the words she gives me every time I go on shift. But I blink the feeling away. “Always.”
“I love you, Brax.”
It feels like a tight fist is gripping my lungs, squeezing them so tightly that no air is getting in. “I love you too, Gracie.”
The universe must know how tired I am. By midday, we haven’t had a single callout, but the whole crew is subdued, clearly feeling the effects of this time of year, as well as Ben’s illness and being short-staffed. The mood is relatively somber, hanging over the station like a dark cloud.
Desperate to keep my hands busy and my mind quiet, I volunteer to cook lunch—nothing fancy, just a simple fare of avocado, scrambled eggs, and bacon on toast. I’m on clean-up duty now, elbow-deep in suds, but it’s easy to let my thoughts drift as the water swishes around my wrists.
“Yo, man. There’s a visitor for you.” Ryan pops his head around the doorframe, knocking his fist twice against the wood, and then he’s gone again. I shake my head, my mouth twitching, used to his abrupt nature after working the same shift together for the last two years.
I check the time with a frown. It’s too early for Gracie’s lunch break, but hope still beats out a fast rhythm in my chest. I haven’t seen her for a couple of days, and even when I did, it wasn’t long enough.
Excitement thrums through me, cutting through everything else—every worry and every secret I’ve been holding onto—eager just to drag my girl into my arms.
The foyer is quiet as I head out of the kitchen, but I can hear voices in the common room. I quickly jog in that direction, swinging open the door and stepping inside.
Against one wall, Asher and Theo are sitting at a table, playing with a deck of cards.
Marco’s missing—probably working out in the gym.
Ryan’s leaning against the end of the couch, arms and ankles crossed as he faces a woman who has her back to me.
I already know she’s not Gracie—her long hair too red, and the body all wrong.
“Here he is,” Ryan announces, tipping his chin toward me, and she turns to me, her lips curved.
“Paisley? What’re you doing here?”
She doesn’t answer straight away, her brown eyes locked on my face, the smile never slipping. Ryan’s eyes are filled with curiosity as they bounce between us, and something uncomfortable creeps into my gut.
“Hi, Braxton,” she chirps happily, her arms tucked in front of her, and I realize she’s holding onto an old wicker basket, a bright pink ribbon twisted around the handle. She steps closer to me, and the aroma of melted chocolate and warm bread wafts up to my nose.
“Nick told me you were pulling an extra shift today. I’m glad I caught you at a”—she gives me a wink—“peaceful time.” She throws a look over her shoulder, smiling at the others. “Don’t worry. My dad was a firefighter. I know not to say the other word.”
Theo quietly shuffles the deck of cards, neither she nor Asher saying a word. The corners of Ryan’s mouth lift in a smile, but when Paisley turns back to me, he flicks me a questioning look. I shake my head with a shrug.
“Mom and I were baking this morning.” Paisley jiggles the basket, unfazed by the lack of response. “And she sent me down here to give some to Nick, but I couldn’t forget about you, could I?” Her smile is easy, unexpectant, and my shoulders sink.
“Not sure about your timing,” I tease good-naturedly. “We just finished lunch.”
“That’s perfect. I bet everyone has room for something sweet.” She looks at the others. “How about if I set everything out in the kitchen? You can all just help yourselves when you want.”
“Thank you,” Theo murmurs quietly, and Asher grunts. Paisley’s grin widens, and she steps around me, heading for the door.
“Come on, Brax. You can show me where everything is.”
I don’t move straight away, tucking my hands into the pockets of my sweats. Ryan’s staring at me, his expression unreadable. “She seems nice.”
“Paisley is Nick’s sister,” I explain.
“Yeah, she said.” Ryan’s eyes drift to the door behind me and back. “Better go keep Nick’s sister company.”
I shake my head at him, leaving without another word. Paisley has found a serving plate, setting it out on the kitchen table. I watch as she turns it a quarter-inch, her brow furrowed, before she starts pulling a selection of baked goods out of her basket.
I lean my shoulder against the doorframe. “How is Nick today?” I ask conversationally.
“Busy.” Paisley doesn’t look up from what she’s doing. “I think they’ve got him working on something important. He barely even had time to say boo to me, let alone eat anything.” She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “More for you guys, I guess.”
My eyebrows climb my forehead as she keeps piling food onto the plate. “How much did you make?” I ask. “Looks like there’s enough for an army.”
Paisley lifts a shoulder. “I have some time on my hands,” she murmurs. “Shall we go outside? I loved coming here for family days when we were younger, and sitting under the red maple. It’s got to be the prettiest tree in town.”
“Yeah, okay,” I agree easily, scrubbing a hand through my hair. “I could use the fresh air.” I grab my jacket hanging up next to the back door as she comes to stand next to me, basket in her hands. I frown, realizing she’s only wearing a thin sweatshirt and jeans. “Where’s your coat?”
“I forgot it.”
My brows lift. “It’s December,” I say pointlessly, eyeing her outfit dubiously. “Whatever. Here, take mine.”
Paisley laughs as she takes it. “It’s not even that cold today. I’ve forgotten how mild Sterling Creek winters are. You’ve never experienced winter until you’ve lived in the Twin Cities.” She eyes my hoodie. “Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Come on.”
The grass isn’t quite frozen, but it still crunches loudly under our feet as we head toward the barren red maple. There are already tiny red buds starting to form on the branch tips, and Paisley tips her head back, staring at it.
“I can’t wait to see the flowers bloom,” she says wistfully.
“You’ll be here in spring, then,” I surmise.
“That’s the plan.” Paisley kneels under the tree, clearly not worried about the damp grass on her jeans. I watch for a beat before sitting next to her, leaning my back against the trunk with my legs stretched out in front of me.
“I didn’t know if you were back for good or not,” I murmur, putting my hands into my hoodie pocket. “You were pretty set on never coming back when you left.”
Paisley stills in the process of opening the basket, not looking at me as she says, “Things change, Braxton. Did you know Mom used to bring Dad food?” I blink at the change in subject. “When they were ‘courting.’” She lets out a light laugh as she finger-quotes the word.
“No. Don’t think I’ve ever talked to your parents about their origin story.”
“Origin story,” Paisley repeats. “I like that. According to Mom, Dad was quite the catch. Everyone wanted to marry the good-looking firefighter.”
A flicker of agitation beats to life in my chest. “I don’t know why. It isn’t exactly a glamorous career,” I mutter. “My mother didn’t want me to follow in Dad’s footsteps. She knew what the job would ask of me and my family.”
Paisley pauses with her hand in the basket, her brown eyes slowly lifting to mine. “Braxton, are you okay?” she asks hesitantly. “I know it’s been years since we’ve been in each other’s lives, but something feels…off with you.”
A surprised laugh leaves me, one edged in bitterness. “You’re right. It has been years, so how would you know if I am off?”
Paisley’s lashes lower, hiding her eyes. “I don’t think four years erases eighteen,” she murmurs, not quite about to hide the hurt in her tone. “That history doesn’t just disappear, and it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
I look away, annoyed at myself. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She doesn’t seem to hear me. “I didn’t want to go no contact, you know.
But I knew that if I didn’t…” She shakes her head, pulling out two muffins and handing me one.
“My mom was really worried about me not getting out of Sterling Creek. She’s lived here her entire life, and she wanted me to get out and explore the world the way she never did. ”
“I know.”
And I do.
I never blamed Paisley for those choices.
The plans she and her mother had made together were never secret, just as my plan to stay hadn’t been.
Even after I told Paisley how I felt about her, there was this certainty that nothing was going to change.
But I got it into my head that I would regret it if I said nothing.
I bite into my muffin, eyes widening as sweet citrus rolls over my tongue. Orange chocolate chip. My favorite. I finish it off in just three bites. “These are delicious,” I say after swallowing my mouthful. “I didn’t know you could bake.”
Paisley ducks her head, but I see the way her cheeks fill with color. “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other, as you keep pointing out. You said we could be friends,” she says abruptly.