CHAPTER NINE FALLON
C HAPTER N INE
FALLON
“Why doesn’t Tank have Sully this weekend?” Peter asks as I join him in bed after checking on Sully one last time.
“He has a motorcycle club meeting. They’re once a month, and I don’t want Tank missing those. I know how much they mean to him.”
Peter is leaning against the white wooden headboard, and I’m tucked up against him as he rests his laptop on his lap so we can watch my new obsession, old episodes of I Love Lucy .
“I didn’t know he was part of a motorcycle club—I mean, I guess with one look at him, you could assume that, given the constant leather he wears, even in the heat.”
“Yeah, it’s a good break for him. Just like I get a break, he needs one too.”
“Maybe next weekend, we can go somewhere—you know, on a real break. I’m sure Jaz wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on the cabins for you. We can spend a long weekend in Palm Springs or even go down to San Diego, or Temecula. Spend a weekend in the wine country.” He kisses the top of my head.
What is he even talking about? Just this afternoon I was telling him about my never-ending to-do list. Does he really think I can take a break right now?
“I would love to, Peter, but right now is not a good time. We’re kind of in a crunch to get these renovations done.”
“Sweetie, you’ve been working on the renovations for a while; they’ll still be here—”
“That’s the thing,” I say, turning toward him. “They might not still be here.”
“What are you talking about?” Peter shuts his laptop and turns toward me.
“I mean, I spoke with my dads, and the cabins aren’t doing well. We’re badly in need of income, and until I finish these renovations, I can’t bring any in.”
“What happens if you don’t finish them?”
I stare down at my hands. “Then we have to sell.”
“Really?” Peter says, and there’s no mistaking the hope in his voice. “Fallon, that’s great. You could sell and then come back to Palm Springs. I’ve been looking at the different facilities in the area for Sully, and I have a friend who works at this great—”
“Peter, I don’t want to sell.”
“What?” he asks, a pinch in his brow. “Why not?”
“Because this is where I grew up, this is where I have so many memories of Sully, of Grandma Joan. This is my second home, and I can’t imagine giving it to someone else, someone else who very well might tear down the cabins Sully worked so hard to build. I can’t do that to him. To me.”
“But Fallon, this is too much for you. Renovations on your own while taking care of your grandpa? How is that fair to you?”
I feel like very few people would understand where I’m coming from. Hell, my dads don’t even understand, but they support me. This is more to me than just helping out my grandpa; this is about preserving the legacy my grandparents left behind.
Every summer, without fail, my dads would drive me up here—not because they wanted time away but because I begged them to let me spend those weeks with my grandparents in the mountains, where I’d go on hikes with Sully, or bake snickerdoodles in the kitchen with Grandma Joan.
They’d hold a cabin just for me and Jaz, where we could pretend to be guests and stay up until the late hours of the night just talking and goofing around.
This place, this town, holds my fondest memories, and these cabins are more than just a place to stay; they were dreamed up by Sully, perfected by Grandma Joan.
There’s magic here in the Cove, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure the magic stays with us, here... where Sully and Grandma Joan fell in love.
“I’m not looking for anything to be fair, Peter,” I say.
“I’m looking to do what’s right. And if that means sticking around to make sure I did everything I could to hang on to this property, then I’m going to do it.
How do you not know that about me?” That’s an even more important question, because I’ve told him countless times the meaning behind the cabins.
“I do.” He lets out a deep sigh and takes my hand.
“I’m sorry, I just... this has been hard, only seeing you on the weekends.
Coming up here, not having private time with you.
Not being able to relax with you. Seeing you work yourself until you’re bone tired.
Your mention of selling just got my mind going, seeing that there could be relief in the future. ”
“I know, I’m sorry—”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Peter says, pressing his hand to my cheek. “You are incredible, doing this for your family. I’m sorry that I just got frustrated. I love you, Fallon, and I want to be able to have you more often than the weekend.”
I swallow hard.
Those three words ring through my head all over again.
Bleeding through my bones, and yet, they don’t spur on the same reaction.
They don’t spur anything at all—other than unease.
I look up at him. “I know this has been hard on you, Peter, and I can understand if it’s too much—”
“It’s not,” he quickly says. “It’s not too much, and I’m sorry if I made you think that it is. Just a momentary lapse into frustration.” He takes a deep breath and cups my cheek. “This is not too much for me. You are worth it.”
I can’t keep meeting his gaze—looking into those eyes brimming with love feels... overwhelming. Instead, I curl into him and allow him to hold me tightly while he kisses the side of my head.
“Do you want to watch I Love Lucy ?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, I’m kind of over it. Let’s just talk.”
“Oh, okay.” I stare up at the ceiling. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Maybe a future trip we can take when you’re in a good place with the renovations. Somewhere we can go and just be us—not us, Sully, and the cabins.”
I know he doesn’t intend his words to sound mean, but how can he not see that those things are a part of the person I am? If you get me, you get Sully, you get the cabins, you get this small town. How does he not see that?
And should I be worried that he doesn’t see that?
Or am I just so tired, so overwhelmed, that I’m overthinking this?
Probably the latter.
I need to relax, enjoy this moment with Peter—maybe I’m asking a lot of him, and I need to indulge in these fantasies, if only for a night.
“Um, let’s see, ever been to Las Vegas?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Now, I like that kind of thinking.”
“Okay, floors next?” Jaz asks, hands on her hips as she stares down at the pile of flooring that we’ve been storing in the lobby’s back room—so that on the off chance someone does come by, looking for a reservation, they won’t run into the boxes.
“Yup.” I tap the boxes with my toe. “I watched at least four YouTube videos last night on how to put together these floors. I think Peter was annoyed with me. He seemed agitated when he left this morning.”
“Uh, yeah, you spend the night watching DIY floor videos when he’s only here a few nights. You should have been boning.”
“Ew, can you not say it like that?”
“What?” Jaz shrugs. “It’s true. The man is a beefcake—you should be spending every moment you have together in the sheets.”
We do... but we just don’t do that all the time.
“It’s hard to do that when I’m constantly tired,” I say, and Jaz slowly spins toward me.
She’s chewing a piece of gum, twirling it around on her finger— gross —as her eyes widen. “Wait, do you mean to tell me you don’t have sex with him every night he’s here?”
“It’s kind of hard to have sex when I’m tired and Sully’s constantly shifting around on the monitor.”
“The baby monitor you have on him?” I nod. “Turn it off and fuck your boyfriend. Jesus, Fallon, what’s wrong with you?”
I take a seat on the pile of boxes. “God, I don’t know.
” I bite the inside of my cheek. “I still haven’t told him I love him, and I feel really bad about it.
I think I’m just messed up in my head right now.
I’m emotionally unavailable for anything other than taking care of Sully.
And with the pressure of keeping the cabins, getting them up and running.
.. it feels impossible to tap into those feelings, you know?
Because if I tap into them, I tap into all my other emotions, and I can’t afford that.
I’ll break down if I actually try to think about how I feel. ”
Jaz walks up to me and places her hands on my shoulders. “I love you, Fallon. But Peter is right: you’re carrying too much. He’s a good guy, but if you don’t give him the attention he deserves, it’s going to be too late.”
“I know.”
“And do you want to lose him?”
I bite on my bottom lip and shake my head. “No, I don’t think I do.”
“Then why don’t you go call him, just check on him, and I’ll get started ripping out the carpet in the lobby. I could use the moment to myself to get out some aggression.”
I chuckle. “Okay.”
Wanting some privacy, I take my phone and walk out the back of the lobby, to the property. I take a deep breath, savoring the fresh breeze coming up from the lake, then dial Peter and bring the phone to my ear.
It rings twice before he picks up.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer, feeling like absolute crap. “I’m sorry, Peter.”
“Sorry for what?”
I walk along the path toward the lake. “For not being a good girlfriend. You drive up here every weekend, and I put you to work. We, uh, we don’t, you know... do it every night, and I—”
“Fallon, I’m going to stop you right there. I don’t drive up to see you every weekend just to have sex. I drive up to see you, to spend time with you, and if that time is spent painting the lobby, then that’s how we spend our time.”
“You seemed irritated this morning, and I wasn’t sure if it was because, you know... we didn’t do anything last night.”