37. Blair
37
BLAIR
I 'm buried deep under the hood of Mrs. Patterson's Camry when whispers drift across the garage floor. My wrench slips on the bolt I'm fighting with, and I bite back a curse and peek around the raised hood. Keeping my hands busy while Ransom’s whole family’s out there seemed like a good plan, but my focus is shit. Matt normally works Saturdays alone, since I’m the boss, and I don’t want to. But what else was I going to do while Ransom’s whole family is out there judging me? Think about all the things they’re saying about me?
Fuck no.
Two women hover just inside the doorway. The taller one catches my eye and breaks into a wide grin. "Don't worry, we're just hiding from our husbands."
I straighten up, wiping my hands on the shop rag. "You afraid of them or something?" Why the hell am I playing dumb? The crowd getting off that bus was a jumble, but I recognize these women. They're part of Ransom's family.
Dammit, I thought I'd be able to avoid them. New people are hard. I'm better than I used to be, but still, I get anxious. And anxious equals inappropriate or rude. Why can't I just be normal?
I mentally slap myself in the back of the head because I've mostly cut that kind of negative self-talk out. But sometimes, when it really matters, that shit starts up.
And this matters. Ransom matters a fuck of a lot. And now his family's here to judge me. And if they find me lacking, they're going to go back to him and convince him to leave and never look back.
Shit. I'm spiraling.
They exchange glances and burst into laughter. The shorter one with gentle eyes brushes her hair off her face. "Oh god no. They're the best guys ever."
"Jonas wouldn't hurt a fly," the taller one adds, then pauses. "Well, actually he would. But only if someone was threatening people he cares about."
"That's true for both of them." The shorter woman fidgets with her sleeve. "Though really, Becca's the one people need to watch out for. She's way more dangerous than either of our husbands."
"Only to bad guys," the tall one, Becca, clarifies with a wink. "I teach self-defense classes. Someone's gotta keep the riffraff in line."
I know exactly who she is. The first of the women. The one that likes to annoy Ransom. I'm kind of predisposed to like her already. "So if you're not hiding from dangerous husbands, what brings you to my garage?" Are they going to admit they're snooping?
"We're part of Ransom's family," the shorter one blurts out. That answers that question. "I'm Janey, and this is Becca. We just wanted to meet you properly, without all the chaos from this morning."
"The boys can be a bit... overwhelming," Becca adds. "When they get together in a situation like this, they get a little high school."
"What does that mean?"
"They start doing stupid shit teenage boys do. Like daring each other to snort breath mints up their noses or touching electric fences," Becca explains.
Janey grips Becca's arm, but her wide eyes are on me. "Are there electric fences around here?"
The panic on her face makes me want to laugh. I recognize that kind of panic. It comes from experience. What the fuck do those guys get up to? I half believed Ransom's stories were exaggerated, but maybe every word was true. "Yeah, all over. Closest one is about a mile out."
She turns to Becca, still clinging to her arm. "Would they get that far? They need a chaperone."
Becca pats her hand. "Don't worry. I'm sure there are signs that tell them not to touch. Jonas will be fine."
Janey snorts. "I know that. It was Kade I was worried about. You know Jonas is going to get him to touch that fence."
Becca grins, a little giggle escaping. "Oh god. I hope so." Then she pouts just a little. "And I'm going to miss it." Then those eyes turn on me, calculating. "Oh well. We've got business here."
These two are a dangerous combo. The smaller one, Janey, is all sweet and can suck you into thinking she's harmless. And the bigger one is a little crazy. Even if Ransom hadn't mentioned it, her eyes give it away. "Business, huh?"
"Yep. We're here to check you out and put in a good word for Ransom."
Janey nods emphatically. "Ransom is the best. Loves his family, so patient, incredibly supportive and caring. He's a total catch."
Play nice, Blair. I know who Ransom is. At least I did. And something about these women talking about him like they know him rubs me the wrong way. It's illogical. I know that. But I still feel it. So I try to keep my voice calm.
"I can see that. Everyone seems very…” What’s a nice way of saying 'all over the fucking place'?
"Codependent?" Becca says happily.
"Yeah, something like that." ‘Shit disturbers’ would work too.
"They're codependent as fuck. But in a healthy way. They like each other. They admire each other. It leads to some pretty fun moments."
"You should see them at Christmas. We convinced them to wear matching pajamas," Janey says. "Though honestly, it didn't take much convincing. Last Christmas a few of them had onesies. This Christmas, it turned into a whole thing."
"Matching onesies?" I can't picture it, and yet I can. What would it be like to have a Christmas like that? Rooms filled with people you love? I have a little family here, and the neighbors are a part of that. But it was still quiet. Calm. Nothing like Ransom's was, I'm sure. "Please tell me there are pictures."
"So many pictures," Janey says, pulling out her phone. "Want to see?"
I glance at the clock on the wall. Ransom said an hour, and Matt doesn't really need my help anyway. "You know what? I think I do. Matt, I'm heading out. Do some work."
"Fuck off," he yells cheerily, making me laugh.
I guide them to the wooden bench outside the garage, where the morning sun warms the weathered planks.
"Ransom mentioned you, Becca. Said you like to give him hell."
Becca's face lights up. "Aw. He loves me so much. I tried to make him hold my hand last week, and he told me he'd rather dangle his balls in a bowl full of piranhas." She looks so damn pleased that I laugh. I can almost picture his face as he stared down at her. That brow arched so high, looking all kinds of imperious.
But he probably had to fight back a smile too. I get it. She's really in your face, but not in a mean way. I know people like her. If she's giving you shit, you're part of her circle. If she's polite or outright ignores you, then you know you're on the outside.
The smaller one, Janey? I haven't quite figured her out. She's a calculating little thing. Better to tackle that one head-on.
"He didn't get a chance to tell me about you, though," I say to Janey.
"Oh, I'm Jonas's wife. I run HR at Brash." Janey settles more comfortably on the bench, smoothing her long, light blue skirt over her knees. "Jonas and I had an interesting start. We actually got married before we fell in love."
"Wait, what?"
She smiles, but it's more in reaction to what's going on in her head than to me. "Jonas proposed to help me out of a bad situation. The falling-in-love part came after."
"That's... different." I didn't know shit like that still happened. Again, maybe it's a rich person thing. And what kind of bad situation was she in? He had to have been pretty serious to make her agree to marry.
"He actually proposed because he was madly in love with you. It just took you a little longer to love him back," Becca corrects, poking one finger into Janey's thigh. Janey's cheeks heat, but she doesn't deny it. There is a lot more to that story, I'm sure of it.
Normally, I stay out of people's business. If people want to tell you something, fine, but there's no need to go digging. But I have so many questions. Maybe I'm nosier than I thought.
Or maybe this town's so small that I don't have to be nosy. Everybody knows everyone else's business already. Though it's become clear the last few days that everyone has secrets.
And those secrets can rock the very foundation of your existence.
I don't have time to think about that right now. I don't have the capacity to process what my father did. It's not just that he encouraged Ransom to leave. It's that he kept it a secret from me every single day after that. Every meal, every hug, and every conversation feels like a lie now, and that doesn't sit well.
It's not just Ransom I have to forgive for breaking my heart. It's my dad.
"So," Janey leans forward, "how's it been reconnecting with Ransom? It seems like a lot's happening pretty fast."
Fast? Try warp speed. I run my fingers through my hair. How much do I share? I could keep my shit close to my chest and stick to small talk. I could gloss over everything that's happened. I don't know these women. They don't know me. They haven't earned my story.
But they're close with Ransom. They're his family. And honestly, maybe a little bit of outside perspective would be helpful. "Yeah, it's been fast. It kind of feels like a rollercoaster ride."
"But a good one? Do you like rollercoasters?" Janey asks. "I'm more of a Ferris wheel kind of girl. I like slow and steady."
"And yet you married a man you didn't love?"
"In a matter of days!" Becca says, laughing. "She's totally a rollercoaster girl. She just doesn't want to admit it."
Janey scowls at Becca but doesn't argue with her. There would be no point. She married a man a few days after he proposed, and they weren't even a couple. Suddenly, I'm feeling a little better about my situation.
"I don't know if it's good. I forgave him, after twenty-five years of hating him, for breaking my heart. Then the next day, he drops a bomb on me."
"What kind of bomb?" Becca asks, tapping her lower lip with her finger.
"How much do you know about our history?"
"Just a bit. That he loved you when you guys were kids. And that he'd been trying to buy your garage. And that he still loves you."
She says it so casually, so matter of fact, it steals my breath for a second. "Right. Well, yes, he left. But he did it in a really shitty way. He said and did things that guaranteed I would never want to see him again. He did it in a way that kind of… broke me. For a little while anyway."
Janey makes a soft sound. "What do you mean by broke you?"
"He told me he loved me. That I was his person. Then that night, he said it was all a lie. That I was pathetic and stupid to think his feelings were real. That I was convenient, that's all." Staring out at that bench, I give them the rest of it. The truth that I'm only coming to understand. "And it made me believe that I was unlovable. That no one would want me."
The low growl startles me, but the fact that it comes from Janey completely stuns me. She stands, fists clenched at her sides, fury all over her face. "That… that… total shit pickle! I can't believe he would do something like that."
Becca's eyes nearly pop out of her head, and we exchange glances. It should be funny. She's small, well compared to Becca and me, and seems very quiet and refined.
And yet she just called Ransom a shit pickle.
I can't decide if I should laugh or move away from her, out of the danger zone.
But Janey's on a roll. "That's so wrong. How could he do that to someone he loves? That's not the man I know." Her face falls, devastation written all over it. "I thought he was a better man than that."
Oh crap. I feel like I just told a kid that there's no Santa. And she has the wrong idea.
"He is a better man than that. He finally told me why he did it." It's our history, but I can't have these women thinking badly of him. Because now, after understanding why he did what he did, why he destroyed me, I can't blame him. I don't really care what they think of me.
I do care what they think of him.
So I tell them all of it.
"Oh," Janey says, dropping to sit on the bench again. "I can't decide how I feel about that."
Becca hums and crosses her arms over her chest. "He was being noble. Like he always is. But he went about it like a fifteen-year-old kid."
"You're right," Janey murmurs. "It's not fair to hold him to the standard I have for him now. The Ransom we know is a man of integrity. A man who would do anything for the people he loves. That part, at least, seems to be the same as when he was younger. Because he obviously loved you and didn't want to hurt you. And in his fifteen-year-old mind, he figured making you hate him was better than you having to face any lifelong consequences."
"I set my boyfriend's jacket on fire when I was fifteen," Becca says out of the blue. Janey and I turn to stare at her.She grins. "He said something jerkish when we were out with friends. I got pissed."
"Um… okay?" I have no idea where she's going with this.
She rolls her eyes and explains, slowly, like I'm five. "Teenagers are lunatics, even when life is mostly okay. It's hormonal. And even though he had more life experiences than most up to that point, he still wasn't grown. So with his limited perspective, he wouldn't understand the consequences of that choice. He wouldn't understand how awful it is to have someone tear you down that way. Especially at seventeen. He wouldn't understand the damage those words would do."
Huh. "It's funny how talking with someone can give you a whole different perspective on life."
Becca nods knowingly. "I'm wise as shit."
I pinch my lips together to stop from laughing. Janey just casually backhands her in the stomach, then turns to me.
"That situation I told you about? The one that made me marry Jonas? I was living in a homeless shelter. I fell for a man who lied to me. He conned me and took everything I had."
"Shit."
"Exactly. Instead of reaching out for help, I decided keeping it a secret would be the smartest option. I'm an adult. And still, that was the best idea I could come up with. So maybe I get it." She puts a gentle hand on my knee. "And I get loving someone, falling for them completely, and getting your heart stomped on. It makes you feel so…" she scowls as she searches for the right word. "Small. Small and worthless."
"So what you're saying is I'm not a fool for forgiving him?"
"Nope. Not even a little bit," Becca says.
"It actually shows a lot of maturity on your part," Janey says, looking all kinds of earnest. "Forgiving people is hard. I'm still working on it with my dad. He wasn't a very good dad for a very long time."
"What does 'not very good' mean?"
"He was a drunk for most of my life. He's sober now, and he's been working really hard to make amends. He comes to family gatherings and tries to be there for important moments." Janey's eyes get distant. "It's not perfect, but we're building something new."
"How do you do it? Just... forgive?" How do you reconcile with a dead man? It's not like I can get angry with him. Scream at him for helping to break my heart. We'll never get to have that argument. I'll never get an explanation or an apology from him. Never hear his side of the story. All I have to go by is Ransom's version of things.
Do I think he'd lie to me? Probably not. But it's still second-hand information, filtered through someone else's experience.
"I don't think it's about forgetting what happened," Janey says, bringing my attention back to her. "It's more about accepting that people can change, that they can try to do better." Janey fidgets with her sleeve. "My dad missed so much of my life, but he's here now. Sometimes that has to be enough."
"I get that. I just..." I stare at my hands. "Part of me understands why Dad did it. He was trying to protect me. But he took away my choice. Our choice."
"Parents fuck up," Becca says bluntly. "Even when they're trying to do the right thing."
Becca's words hit hard. The truth of that statement settles into my bones as I think about Max, about the choices I'll face raising him.
My hands clench in my lap. Max is six now, but someday he'll be fifteen, just like Ransom was. What if he falls for an older girl? What if she's about to turn eighteen? The scenario plays out in my head, and my stomach twists. Would I make the same choice Dad did?
Max is so young, so innocent. His biggest concern right now is whether we'll let him stay up late to watch a show. But one day, he'll face real choices, real consequences. And I'll be the one standing between him and potential disaster.
Dad must have been terrified. Looking at his teenage daughter falling for a younger boy, seeing all the ways it could go wrong. The legal implications. The social fallout. The potential damage to both our lives if things went sideways.
I close my eyes, trying to remember his face when he caught Ransom and me together. Ransom's right. There was fear on his face. He wasn't just being controlling or mean—he was trying to protect both of us from making choices that could have destroyed our lives.
But by protecting us, he destroyed something beautiful. Something real. The memory of Ransom's kiss in that field still burns, even after twenty-five years. Dad took that away, and manipulated Ransom into ending it.
My throat tightens. Would I do the same to Max? Would I orchestrate the end of his first love if I thought it would protect him? The answer terrifies me because I'm not sure. Love and protection get so tangled up when it comes to family. Sometimes the line between helping and hurting isn't clear until you've already crossed it.
"The thing is," Becca leans forward, "I've never seen Ransom like this. Two years I've known him, and not once has he shown interest in any woman."
"Maybe he's just private."
"No." Becca shakes her head. "He doesn't date. Period. Then bam, he's here, leaving suddenly—which he never does, by the way—and looking at you like you're an ice cream on a hot day."
My cheeks heat. "You don't know our history."
"You're right; we don't know everything. It's none of our business," Janey says softly. "But we know who he is now."
"We just want him to be happy," Becca adds. "And maybe... maybe you could make him happy. But more importantly, could he make you happy?"
The question hits me hard. Could he? The Ransom I knew at fifteen was passionate, protective, full of dreams. This new Ransom seems... different. Steadier, maybe. More grounded. But those eyes still burn when he looks at me.
"I don't know," I admit. "I barely know who he is anymore."
"But you want to find out," Becca says. It's not a question.
I stare at my hands. "Maybe. Yes. But it's complicated. I have responsibilities here. People who need me."
"Is there a chance, though?" Janey asks. "That you could love him again?"
My heart thuds. The truth slips out before I can stop it. "I'm not sure I ever stopped."
I stand up abruptly, my heart pounding against my ribs. "I should get back to work."
"Blair—" Janey reaches for my arm.
"No, you don't understand." My voice cracks. "Last time I fell for Ransom, he was my entire world. Everything revolved around him—my thoughts, my dreams, my future. When he left..." The pain of that memory still cuts deep. "I couldn't function for months."
Becca's playful expression softens. "You were young then."
"And now I have people depending on me. Real responsibilities." My hands shake as I think of Max's bright smile, of Maggie's increasingly frail form. "I can't just follow my heart."
"Having love in your life doesn't mean neglecting other responsibilities," Janey says quietly.
"Doesn't it?" I wrap my arms around myself. "Ransom lives in Chicago. He has this whole business there. You all are there. And I'm here, where I need to be." The weight of it all settles on my shoulders. "I can't risk losing myself in him again." Max deserves better than that. And Maggie is trusting me to be there for her son.
"Nobody's saying you have to choose," Becca starts.
"But I do. Every day, I have to choose the people here. And that means I can't choose Ransom." The words taste bitter, but they're true. "I can't let myself fall again. The landing would break too many people this time."
"It's not about falling," Janey says gently, putting her hand on my arm. "It's about letting someone in who will lift you up, so you don't fall."
That sounds nice. It also sounds like a fantasy, not real life. "It's not that simple."
"The good things in life never are. But I'm not going to try and convince you to jump in if that's truly not what's right for you. But in my humble opinion, having Ransom in your life, and all that he brings, is pretty amazing."
"I don't need his money."
A small smile tips the corner of her mouth. "The least interesting thing about Ransom Kyle is his money. But you're going to have to spend time with him to figure that out."
"Well, that's mysterious as fuck. What exactly?—"
"You fucktard. Badgers don't have fucking stripes for fuck's sake." Two men are bolting down the sidewalk in front of the shop, the bigger one yelling, his face looking totally panicked.
The other man, leaner but nearly as tall, passes the bigger one and yells back, "I'm not wearing my glasses. You're the dumbass that followed me." Behind them, moving at a speed somewhere between a run and a toddle, is a skunk. I take a few steps down the driveway, lock eyes with the crowd of locals in their lawn chairs—because in a town this small, that bus and everyone in it is better than going to the movies—in the square, and whistle while pointing. They all stand, leave their chairs where they are, and boot it for the other side of the square. I can hear them giggling and gossiping from here.
Becca chokes out a laugh, and Janey covers her eyes, giggling. Neither seems particularly alarmed.
"I take it they belong to you?"
Becca wipes her eyes and sighs. "Yeah, the big one is mine. I think we better go check on them." She tugs a giggling Janey to her feet. "Just think about it. We're a nosy, interfering bunch, but we're pretty welcoming. And we're a fuck of a lot of fun."
They both wave and slowly make their way down the driveway, arms linked, apparently not too worried about the possibility of their husbands getting skunked. Though to be fair, the guys should be able to outrun the skunk pretty easily. But the little fucker has a reputation around here. He's persistent. Once he's decided you're his enemy, it's just a matter of time before he gets you.
If they hang around long enough, they're going to get skunked.
But they're city people. They're going to climb back in that bus and head back to their lives, forgetting all about this town and the people in it. Or maybe we'll be a footnote in their lives, and they'll tell the story of the time they visited that little town and outsmarted the local wildlife.
Then they'll move on and forget all about us.
Forget all about me.
Am I really going to let that happen? Am I really going to let my second chance get away?