CHAPTER FIVE FALLON
C HAPTER F IVE
FALLON
“Do you know where my running shoes are?” Peter calls out from my bedroom.
“I think they’re under the bed,” I say while I finish cutting up a strawberry in the kitchen.
“Found them,” he announces before appearing in the kitchen, where he walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “I’m going for a run.” He kisses my neck.
“I made you a yogurt parfait,” I say. “Want me to stick it in the fridge for you for when you get back?”
“That’d be great.”
He releases me and takes a seat on the couch, where he puts his shoes on.
I turn toward him and lean a hip on the counter.
“Thank you for finding the time to come up and visit me—and for switching your shift around in the first place so you could come up early. I know your schedule is tough and this isn’t easy.
I wish I could make more of an effort to meet up with you in Palm Springs, but things are. .. crazy.”
“You don’t have to thank me or explain,” Peter says as he double knots his shoelaces.
“When we first started dating, he’d just been diagnosed, and you were already preparing to move here.
I knew the challenges, and if you ask me”—he stands and walks over, pulling me in close to his chest—“I think we’re doing a pretty good job navigating them together.
It will get better, you know, once we figure out where this relationship is going.
” He winks, and I can’t help but wonder what he means.
This isn’t the first time he’s mentioned the future, but now is not the time to get into it.
“I think so too.” I smile up at him.
He places a chaste kiss on my lips. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Doing the Harry Balls Trail.”
“Your favorite.”
“For the name alone.” He winks again and then takes off down the stairs.
I finish up the parfaits and place his in the fridge before taking mine down to the lobby, where I sit at the check-in desk. Not that we have anyone checking in, but we do have one guest.
I got a good portion of the wallpaper hung yesterday before Peter popped into the lobby, surprising me with a bouquet of flowers and his handsome smile.
Jaz was gone by the time Peter got there, so he convinced me to put the work down, take a shower, and get ready for date night.
I couldn’t say no to that, especially since Sully was still with Tank, so I took advantage of the grandpa-free time.
We had such an amazing night last night, even though I felt Sawyer’s eyes on me from time to time.
I was able to block him out and enjoy my time with Peter.
Which was a relief, because the long distance has put a palpable strain on our relationship—we ended our last phone call with some unspoken tension simmering between us.
The back door to the lobby opens and... speak of the devil.
“Good morning,” Sawyer says with a light wave of his hand.
He’s sweaty, fresh from what looks like a run or a workout.
A black tank top clings to his sweaty torso, and even though I am currently taken, I can’t help but notice his sculpted arms and the obvious contours of his pecs through the sweat-drenched fabric.
I hate to admit it, but he’s an attractive man.
It’s funny, because when I first met him on our blind date—that he doesn’t remember—I wondered why this extremely handsome copy of Alexander Skarsg?rd who happened to be a fancy Hollywood screenwriter would want to date an ER nurse like me.
But now that I’ve seen him at his lowest of lows, drunk in a powder-blue tuxedo and missing a shoe, I’ve lost all sense of intimidation.
To me, he’s... just blah.
Despite the nice pecs.
And the eye-catching smile.
Blah.
“Good morning,” I say, turning to my trusty computer to look busy.
“Uh, would I be able to get a towel? My brother stayed with me last night and used both mine and the spare this morning.”
I hop off my stool and move to the back office, where we keep extra housekeeping supplies for situations just like this. I grab a few towels and then drop them on the counter for him.
“There you go.” I pick up my parfait and take a large spoonful, keeping my eyes on the computer screen in front of me.
“Thank you.” He walks up to the counter but doesn’t take the towels. I brace myself, afraid he has more to say. “I, uh...,” he continues, “I was informed last night that we have a past I don’t quite recall.”
My spoonful of yogurt and a strawberry slice pauses halfway to my mouth. I turn toward him. “Jaz told you?” I’m going to wring her neck.
“No.” He shakes his head. “My brother did, actually. He recognized you. Apparently, your friend Samantha, who he was dating at the time, set me up with you.”
Oh, that’s right. I forgot she was dating Sawyer’s brother.
“Yes, that’s true,” I answer, unsure of what else to say.
“Well, I want to tell you that I’m sorry for not recognizing you and for the way I treated you that night. I was—”
“No need to explain anything,” I say. “Seriously, we all have our bad dates. Not a big deal.”
“But you seem mad at me,” he says, an apologetic look on his face.
“I’m not mad.” I shrug. “Just indifferent, I guess.”
He nods. “So, I guess that means you’re not going to be my first friend in Canoodle.”
God, when he says it like that, it makes me feel bad, but then again, what’s the point? He’s not staying here forever. He’s temporary, and we clearly don’t mesh well.
“Not sure we have what it takes to be friends,” I say, trying to be delicate as possible. “Plus, Jaz really doesn’t like you, so, that’s an issue.”
“She probably hates me a lot more since I didn’t let her take Roarick back to her place last night.”
“Yeah, I’d avoid Beggar’s Hole for a while if I were you.”
“After the burrito I got last night, which was loaded with tomatoes that I didn’t want, I’m going to take that advice.” He grabs the stack of towels. “Well, thanks. Have a good day.”
He sulks away, and a part of me actually feels bad for the guy.
He’s hiding away to avoid all the media attention, he’s clearly going through something, and he’s looking for a friend. Refusing to help someone in a predicament isn’t like me.
But I have enough going on in my life. I don’t need another project.
I need to focus on the cabins and Sully.
Those are my top priorities—oh, and making time for Peter.
“How is our baby girl?” my dads say into the phone when I answer their video call.
“Who’s that?” Sully asks as he grumpily sits in his recliner, whittling away with his knife into a piece of wood I found and knew he would like.
“It’s Dad and Papa,” I say while I point the phone in his direction.
“Hey, Sully,” they both say when they see him on the screen. Sully grunts something unintelligible and goes back to his stick.
Tank dropped him off an hour ago and looked absolutely devastated, his usually jolly, mustachioed face drawn into a deep frown, and while Sully went up to the residence, he pulled me to the side and told me it had been a rough day.
Sully had kept asking for his wife, Joan, and couldn’t understand why he was still at Tank’s house when all he wanted was to see her.
The first time Sully asked for Grandma Joan, who passed away six years ago, I was gutted. I wasn’t sure how to respond, how to tell him that she was gone. It took me by surprise, and I ended up sobbing myself to sleep that night.
When I decided to help my grandpa out and move up here, I wasn’t fully prepared for what that would entail.
I figured since I was a nurse, I’d be able to care for him, but I didn’t quite think about the emotional toll it was going to take on me.
The move has weakened me; it has damaged my spirit in a way.
Growing up, I’d visit Sully and Grandma Joan at the cabins, and it all seemed so.
.. magical. An escape full of beautiful memories.
But now, the rose-tinted glasses have been removed and the magic has been swapped out with harsh reality—my grandpa is not well, and the cabins are not what they used to be. And it all rests on my shoulders.
I take the phone back to my room and shut the door quietly, knowing Sully’s not in the mood to have a conversation today.
“He having a bad day?” Dad asks, concern heavy in his voice.
Dad—Izaak, if you’re one of my friends—is Sully’s son.
They have a beautiful bond, just like I have with my dads.
Very loving. Sully, although a grumpy gruff of a man, is so loving when he sees Dad.
Always kissing him and hugging him and telling him how much he loves him.
Sully’s diagnosis has been really hard. .. for everyone.
“Yeah, he just got back from Tank’s. He was asking for Grandma Joan. I hate days like this.”
“I know, kiddo,” Dad says, glancing at Papa. “You know, we were thinking that maybe we should reconsider those homes we were talking about.”
The homes that were created for people in Sully’s position, a place they can go when taking care of them gets too difficult.
I shake my head. “No, he’d be miserable. At least up here, he gets to be with Tank; he gets to be around people he knows, in the town he loves. We can’t pull him from a place that gives him stability. Not yet at least.”