6. BAILEY
Chapter six
BAILEY
By late October, Redwood Grove has fully surrendered to fall.
The town square is packed with vendor booths, cider stands, pumpkins stacked outside the bakery booth, and strings of warm lights crisscrossing between the trees, even though it’s barely afternoon.
The air smells like cinnamon, caramel, and whatever candle scent someone nearby is trying very hard to describe as “autumnal.”
“I don’t need anything,” I say, mostly to myself, as we pass a booth selling ceramic mugs shaped like little cauldrons.
Jade glances at the tote bag on my arm. “Nobody believes you.”
“I’m supporting small businesses.”
“You bought two candles and apple butter.”
“The apple butter was local.”
“As opposed to imported from the great apple butter mines overseas?”
I ignore her because she has a point.
The five of us drift through the square with hot cider, cold fingers, and no real agenda.
Priya buys a hideous raven ornament in a Santa hat after declaring it offensive.
Maren sends Nico a picture of it. Sienna mentions that if she doesn’t start Christmas shopping now, December will eat her alive.
Emerson laughs beside me, looking soft and settled in a way that still catches me sometimes.
This is why I came today.
Not for candles. Not for cider. Not for a scarf I absolutely don’t need and buy anyway.
For them.
For a few hours that don’t smell like antiseptic and fear. My week at the hospital was the kind that sticks. Too many scared families. A horrendous car accident. Too many moments where I had to be calm because someone else couldn’t be.
So today, I let myself have this.
The ridiculous booths. The warm cider. Jade whispering that one of the beeswax candles has the personality of a retired art teacher with wind chimes.
By the time we reach the far side of the square, my tote bag is heavier, my cider is gone, and my new cream-colored scarf is wrapped around my neck because poor financial choices should at least be cozy.
“You look like you’re one apple cider away from joining a knitting circle,” Jade says.
“I would be excellent in a knitting circle.”
“You don’t knit.”
“I could learn.”
Emerson laughs, and I glance at the rest of them. Priya is examining another ornament. Maren is still texting Nico. Sienna is checking her phone, probably making sure Beck and the kids are okay.
This is my safe place.
These women.
Which is exactly why I should know better than to think I can keep anything from them for long.
Especially Finn O’Malley.
Finn at the rink, Finn giving Carter space instead of a lecture, Finn looking at me in the storage room like he wanted to joke and couldn’t quite find one fast enough.
Finn’s fingers brushing mine over a helmet.
I tug the scarf tighter around my neck and keep walking.
Nope.
Not today.
Today is cider, candles, and five women who will absolutely bully me into dinner after this.
Today is not about Finn.
No matter how many times my mind tries to make him part of the scenery.
By the time we make dinner plans, I’m exhausted and ready to get off my feet.
***
We end up at Redwood Taproom, a warm brick-and-wood brewery just off the square with low lighting, a crowded bar, and the kind of menu that makes every table order more food than they need.
The place smells like garlic fries, wood-fired pizza, and citrusy hops.
After a day of cider samples and walking the square, it feels exactly right.
We settle into a corner table near the back, coats and shopping bags tucked against the wall, menus spread between us.
“Fries for the table?” Emerson asks.
“Absolutely,” I say.
Jade picks up the drink menu. “And something cold. I’ve had enough hot cider to preserve me through winter.”
“Agreed,” Priya says. “I’m switching to beer.”
The server comes by, and we order like women who haven’t eaten all day. Fries, flatbreads, Brussels sprouts, because Sienna claims we need something green, and a round of drinks.
For the first few minutes, nobody brings up anything serious. We eat, decompress, and let the day settle around us.
Maren talks about Nico’s schedule getting more intense now that the season has started.
Sienna tells us Beck took both kids grocery shopping and came home with four things on the list, plus a family-size box of cereal shaped like tiny dinosaurs.
Priya gives a very serious review of the hideous raven ornament she bought and announces that it has future heirloom potential.
“You are probably right,” Emerson says. “It will be passed down for generations.”
“Exactly. Future generations will continue to laugh at it every time it’s taken out for the holidays.”
Priya smiles. “It definitely has character.”
Jade lifts her drink. “To character.”
We all clink glasses because, honestly, we’ve toasted worse.
I’m halfway through my drink when my phone buzzes on the table.
I glance down.
Mom: Don’t forget to RSVP for Lily’s wedding. Your aunt is asking. And I believe Evan will be there, just so you’re not surprised.
My stomach drops in the smallest, most irritating way.
Not heartbreak. Just the old pinch of seeing a name I’d rather keep in the category of people who no longer get emotional real estate.
I turn my phone facedown.
Jade notices immediately. “Bad news?”
“Not bad.” I reach for a fry, mostly to give my hands something to do. “My cousin Lily’s wedding is coming up.”
“That sounds nice,” Sienna says.
“It should be. San Francisco, gorgeous venue, my entire family pretending there are not long-standing issues with one branch of relatives.”
Priya leans back. “So, high-risk.”
“Moderate.”
Jade’s gaze flicks to my phone. “And the text?”
I sigh. “My ex will be there.”
The table changes.
Emerson lowers her drink. “Evan?”
“Unfortunately.”
“He’s the smug one?” Priya asks.
“I don’t think I used those exact words.”
“You’ve implied them many times.”
“He’s not evil,” I say, because that feels important. “He’s just polished and condescending and very good at making me feel like I’m overreacting if I notice.”
Emerson’s expression softens. “You don’t have to prove anything to him.”
“I know.”
“You also don’t have to go alone.”
I point my finger at her. “Do not start.”
“I said one thing.”
“It was a loaded thing.”
Jade lifts her glass. “A date would be practical.”
“A date would be unnecessary.”
“Not if it’s backup,” Maren says. “Not a revenge date. Just someone in your corner.”
I look around the table and recognize the silence before anyone says his name.
“No,” I say.
Priya’s brows lift. “I missed a step.”
“Finn,” Emerson says.
The name lands with an annoying little pull in my stomach.
“No,” I repeat.
Jade tilts her head. “He’d be good in a room like that.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
“Because he’s charming?” Sienna asks.
“Because he’s Finn.” I exhale and look toward the window, where the square lights blur against the glass. “He’s fun. He flirts like breathing. He likes attention. He likes being liked. He’d charm my mother in three minutes, make my cousins love him, and make Evan look painfully dull by comparison.”
Priya reaches for another fry. “I’m still waiting for the bad part.”
“The bad part is that Finn makes everything feel easy until you forget easy can still be dangerous.”
Emerson doesn’t argue, which bothers me more than if she did.
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with him,” I add. “I’ve seen enough to know there’s more to him than the jokes.”
I think of the rink. Carter on the ice, furious and embarrassed. Finn giving him room instead of a lecture. Finn in the storage room, caught for one rare second without the easy comeback ready.
“He’s better than people give him credit for,” I admit.
Jade studies me. “Including you?”
I look at her. “I’m realistic.”
“No,” Emerson says gently. “You’re scared he’d make it feel real.”
That gets too close.
I take a sip of my drink and buy myself one second. “Finn is not emotionally safe.”
Priya’s eyes widen.
“I don’t mean unsafe,” I clarify. “I mean, he’s not the kind of man you bring into a family wedding with music and champagne and an ex who already thinks your life is some cute little side plot.”
Sienna nods slowly. “Because he’d make Evan weird?”
“No.” I look down at my glass. “Because he’d make me weird.”
That quiets the table.
The truth is, Finn would probably be great with my family. Too great. He’d stand beside me, looking relaxed and handsome and just attentive enough to make everyone notice.
And I might start believing in the version of us we’d be pretending to be.
That would be stupid.
Dangerous, even.
Finally, I shake my head. “Not Finn.”
No one argues, which somehow makes it worse.
Priya reaches for another fry. “Fine. Not Finn.”
“Thank you.”
“For now.”
I glare at her.
She smiles into her beer. “What? I’m respecting the process.”
Before I can answer, the front door of Redwood Taproom swings open, letting in a rush of cold air and several very large men who immediately make the room feel smaller.
Of course.
Because the universe has timing issues.
Knox walks in first, scanning the room with that quiet, controlled focus of his until he finds Emerson. His expression doesn’t change much, but something about him settles. Dylan is right behind him, then Ty, Jace, Gavin, and Finn.
Finn’s gaze moves over the room, easy and casual, until it lands on our table.
On me.
His mouth curves into a smile.
Emerson lifts a hand to Knox, and that’s enough invitation for the whole group to drift over.
“Ladies,” Ty says, sliding into the open space near our table like he was summoned into our conversation. “This looks serious.”
“It was,” Jade says. “Then you arrived.”
Ty touches his chest. “I bring positive energy.”
“You bring volume,” Maren says.
“Same family.”