9. Grady
CHAPTER 9
GRADY
I shut the front door behind me and follow the sound of classic rock that’s blasting through the house down the hall to the spare bedroom. Hudson didn’t hear me when I came in, but he turns around now, as I shout his name over the music.
He sets down his paint roller and clicks off the old silver boombox he still uses on the job.
“It looks great in here,” I say, assessing the progress that he’s made today. He’s been working on this room over the last week, a special project I enlisted him for. I can tell he’s been working hard by the way his damp T-shirt is clinging to him, his sandy blond hair is damp as well, mussed and sticking up as if he’s just scrubbed his hand through it. Yesterday he finished putting up the trim that makes up the board and batten along the lower half of the wall, and today he’s finishing painting it a soft dusty blue. The same dusty blue paint dots the fabric of his T-shirt.
It’s not just this project he’s had a hand in; he’s put a lot of work into the house for me since I bought it from Dad. We’ve just about renovated the place top to bottom, which involved a lot of tearing down wood panelling and ripping up green shag carpet. This was the last room left, and I’ve been saving it for a special purpose.
“The final coat of paint just went on. Then I just have to hang up the light fixture. You can start bringing in furniture and finishing touches whenever you like,” Hudson says.
“Thanks for doing this, Hud.” I give him a smack on his shoulder. “I know it doesn’t need to be done for a couple of months yet, but I appreciate you fitting this in.” Business has been booming at the construction company, but the paycheck I offered him to work on this side project was enough motivation for him to reschedule his upcoming projects.
“You’re just lucky you asked me early. The next few months are going to be insane,” he answers, turning back to the paint roller on the drop cloth covering my hardwood. “Where have you been today anyways?”
“Out,” I say, dodging his question. “Care for a beer once you’re done cleaning up?” Hudson was one of the few people who saw how Spencer’s first visit to Heartwood threw me for a loop, and he’d be the first to call me out on spending time with her now.
“Sure. Let me finish cleaning up, and I’ll meet you out there.” Hudson retreats down the hall, and when he finds me again a few moments later, I’m already seated out on the patio, a cold beer in my hand, and one cracked for him on the table next to me. He picks it up and takes a swig, and I notice some sweat beading on his forehead.
“You never answered my question from before,” he says.
“Which one?” I deflect, but I know that Hudson is just curious about how I spent my day. He’s always been like that, interested in other people’s lives just for the sake of knowing them a little bit better.
“Where you were all day,” Hudson clarifies. “You weren’t at the bar, because you don’t smell like fry oil.” Hudson is the only one of the Landrys that inherited our mother’s blue eyes, and now they are piercing right through me.
“I took my bike out,” I half lie, and only by omission. “It’s such a beautiful day, wanted to take advantage since I haven’t been able to ride through the winter.” I don’t return Hudson’s eye contact. Instead, I let my gaze drift off towards the woods surrounding the back of the property where the four of us used to spend our days from sunup to sundown.
“Sure.” He takes a casual swig of his beer, a smug look on his face that I can’t quite place.
My phone buzzes on the table in between us, vibrating repeatedly. My eyes dart down to see Spencer’s contact on my screen, and her name comes up as Rebel . The moment she admitted to giving a fake number to Carter the other night at the bar is a moment I wanted to memorialize. There was something about the fire behind her eyes that I couldn’t get enough of. Hudson is also looking at my phone screen, and I click it off, ignoring the call. I’ll call her back once he leaves.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” he says, more a statement than a question. “Spencer. You’ve been talking to her.”
I say nothing. Instead, I scrub a hand over my face.
“Just be careful, dude. That’s all I’m gonna say,”Hudson warns. Might be a little late for careful.
“There’s nothing going on between us,” I deflect, although I don’t sound convincing, and I know that I’m trying to convince myself more than Hudson at this point.
“Listen, I did the math. The last time she was in town was right before you went into that weird mopey phase of yours last year. Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I did not mope. ” I emphasize the p , popping my lips. Did I creep through every single one of her Instagram posts after she left? Sure. But I did not mope.
“You sure as shit did. I know what moping looks like because I’m an expert at it myself,” Hudson says, referring to the rough patch he went through after he graduated and his high school sweetheart left town. It took him years to get over Wren, if he ever did. The jury is still out on that one. I would bet anything that if she showed up in town tomorrow, Hudson would be just as fucked as I am when it comes to Spencer. “It was written all over your face. Now I’m convinced it was because you couldn’t stop thinking about her. I’ve never seen you so hung up on someone.”
“And there’s a good reason for that,” I answer. The fact is, Hudson has never seen me hung up on a woman because I don’t let myself get hung up on women. I made a point not to date again after my high school prom when shit went sideways, and I realized that I was going to have to be there for my brothers. When I did finally start seeing someone a few years ago, it ended with me heartbroken over a woman who was never meant for me in the first place. She got bored, said I was too predictable, too nice, and left. I didn’t know it was possible to be too nice , but apparently it is, and I was.
“We don’t need you to be looking out for us anymore, Grady. Jett and I are adults now. We can take care of ourselves.” Something in Hudson’s words causes a sharp pang in my ribs. Realistically, I can tell myself that they don’t need me anymore. In reality, the thought of not being there for them makes me feel like I no longer have a purpose.
With Mom no longer around, Dad as good as absent with his workload at the clinic, and Mason already gone away to med school in Ontario, that left me as the man of the house. I didn’t know how to be the man of the house, so I was the next best thing. I was a big brother. I swore to myself that I would take care of them up until the day they didn’t need me anymore. I guess I never realized that day had already come and gone.
“It wouldn’t matter anyway, Hud. There’s nothing between Spencer and me. She’s sworn off men anyhow.”I let out an imperceptible sigh and close my eyes to feel the afternoon sun on my face.
“Is she thinking of becoming a nun or something?” Hudson asks. “Because that’s the only reason I can think of why she would be so opposed to anything happening between you.”
“No, no. Not a nun.” I chuckle to myself at the thought of Spencer in a nun’s habit. Spencer would be the worst nun alive, I’m pretty sure. The obedience to God part of the job would be her downfall. Spencer clearly doesn’t obey anything or anyone other than her own internal compass. “It’s something to do with family drama, I think. Her dad is getting remarried, and her mother sounds like a bit of a hot mess. So, I highly doubt she’s in the headspace to jump into a relationship.”
“She could still jump into bed with you, though.” When I don’t respond, Hudson’s expression changes, it flattens. “Don’t tell me you’ve already hooked up with her,” he says, finally putting it all together.
“It was just sex,” I say, taking a swig of my beer, the bottle making a pop sound as I pull it away from my lips. “And like I said, never to be repeated.”
“Jesus, Grady. I know you, and if there’s one thing you can’t do, it’s casual flings.”
“Hey, I’m easygoing, laid back. I can do casual if I want to do casual.”
“She might do casual, but you don’t. You’re just going to bend over backwards for her. Spencer is a different kind of woman. I’ve seen her type before. She’ll rip your heart out if you let her,” Hudson warns.
“It’s not that simple,” I say, remembering the rules we’ve already broken. I don’t even know how many there were to begin with, but I know we’ve broken two. I felt a rush both times it happened. The night she asked me to work with her, shirking the promise we made to keep our distance, and today when I shared a part of myself that I rarely share with anyone. But it’s the things she shares with me that have me completely captivated by her, the glimpses of her that she lets me see through the cracks. Those beautifully imperfect parts of her make me that much more attracted to her. If Spencer is a tornado, then I want to be that one cow you always see get swept up in the wind in movies.
“What, did you already manage to knock her up?” Hudson asks, and I just about choke on my beer. I collect myself enough to shake my head no.
“She’s helping me out for this town council meeting coming up,” I explain. “I want to oppose Carter’s motion to get rid of the local business law, and I haven’t exactly built myself a reputation in town that people respect, unfortunately. She’s going to help me change that.”
“Suit yourself, Grady. It’s a noble cause, and I agree that you’ll need all the help you can get on that front,” Hudson gives in. He pauses for a beat before adding, “I’ll be here for you when you get your heart trampled on.”
“I know how to control myself. We’re keeping things strictly platonic. It was a one-time thing. Just sex,” I repeat, but even saying that feels robotic, like the words are just syllables that I’ve strung together with no real meaning. It’s the same feeling I get when I’m telling a bold-faced lie.
As if on cue, my phone vibrates on the table again. Then a second time. And a third. And when I look down at the screen, I have three texts from the beautiful rebel herself.
SPENCER
Call me back when you can.
Actually, don’t. I’m at Ally’s and she just came out of the bathroom.
Can you take the day off tomorrow?
I consider Hudson’s warning before responding. He’s right about me. I don’t do casual. I’m not generous with my affection for just anybody, but once I’ve given you a part of me, you’re getting all of me, take it or leave it.
And nothing about my night with Spencer felt casual. Nothing about it felt like I could turn off my emotions. Nothing about it felt like I could compartmentalize. Just the opposite. I let Spencer into a corner of my heart, and now she’s bled over into the rest of it.
Sure. It’s Finn’s day to work the bar anyways.
I may as well accept my fate.
SPENCER
Good. We’re going shopping.
Is it going to take all day?
Maybe. We’ll have to drive into Calgary.
Can’t we go shopping in Heartwood? We have clothing stores here.
The Shirt Shack isn’t going to cut it.
The Shirt Shack has some great finds.
I think we need to go to the Big and Tall. Heartwood doesn’t have a Big and Tall.
I may be big, and I may be tall. But not so big and tall that I need to shop at Big and Tall.
Take a shot every time you say Big or Tall.
Brat.
Pick me up at 9?
Sounds like a plan.
Great. Don’t bring the bike.
Is this part of your plan to slowly make me get rid of it?
The three little dots that indicate she’s typing appear and then disappear, as if she’s thinking of something snarky to say back.
SPENCER
I wouldn’t tell you if it was. But no, we’ll have stuff to bring back.
An uncontrollable grin tugs at my lips, though I feel a strange sense of disappointment that the conversation seems to be over. I could talk to Spencer for hours, even if only over text messages.
“Dude.” Hudson’s voice snaps me back to the reality outside of my phone screen. “You’re smiling like an idiot. What the fuck were we just talking about? She’s going to leave again. That’s what Spencer does. It’s her job, her way of life. It’s going to wreck you just like it did last time.”
“I know, I know. Don’t worry about me, Hudson. I’m fine,” I reassure him.
I am not fine. I am not fine in the slightest, and this conversation has made that glaringly obvious. There’s this small shred of hope that’s been tugging on my heart, telling me that maybe if I can be what Spencer needs, she’ll see that I’m worth sticking around for.
I pull into the campsite bright and early. Spencer is already outside, perched on the step of the camper waiting for me. She gets up as soon as she sees me, and saunters over to the passenger side of my hatchback. I strictly don’t drive this thing once the weather is above ten degrees Celsius, but Spencer insisted. Apparently, we’ll have a whole carload of clothing to bring home, which is strange because I am not planning on buying anything. Spencer will see once we get there, a makeover is not what I need. It certainly isn’t what’s going to help me win at the council meeting. Anyone who judges me by the clothes I’m wearing can go kick rocks.But if it makes her happy, and if it means I get to spend the day with her, I’ll suck it up and try on some clothes.
“Morning, sunshine!” Spencer says, climbing in beside me. She’s got her hair back in a clip which she takes out so she can rest her head on the seat, and her hair falls down around her shoulders. It doesn’t matter how many times she does that, the sight of her letting her hair down is always going to make my heart ache. Though, this morning I feel something else, and my cock is suddenly uncomfortable, pressing against my jeans. I thought jerking off in the shower would have helped me to keep my mind on the task at hand today, but clearly that was a pipe dream.
“Morning,” I respond, trying not to look at her, and busying myself by handing her the coffee I brought her in a travel mug. “I figured you could use some coffee that wasn’t boiled over a fire pit or something.”
“I do have a coffee maker in there,” she fires back, waving towards the camper van. “It doesn’t look like much, they wanted to keep the vans kind of retro, like the old Volkswagen ones. The inside is more like ‘glamping’ than it is like camping. That’s why it’s called Wander Luxe. I guess you know that already, you did see it when you, uh, dropped me off. I appreciate the coffee, though, thank you. Hey, this is a Volkswagen, isn’t it?”
The corner of my mouth lifts as I glance over at her. She’s rambling. Almost as if she’s nervous to be spending the day together.
“Yes, it is,” I admit. Not a very macho car, but I picked the most sports car model I could find, and I like how it handles.
“It’s cute,” she says, twisting around to put on her seatbelt. I don’t know if I’d go as far as to call it cute, but I can imagine Spencer putting one of those solar hula girls on the dash, and the thought of it makes me smile even more. I might even get one to see if she notices.
We have to drive through town to get to the highway that will take us into Calgary, and the streets are quiet at this time of day, except for the odd go-getter up for a morning walk or a jog.
“Tell me why we had to leave so early?” I ask as I slow my speed down along Main Street. It will only be a few more weeks until the street is closed off to vehicles, only allowing bicycles and pedestrians down the strip through the summer months.
“We need to get there when the mall opens. It’ll already be busy by eleven,” Spencer replies, as if everyone should know this. But I don’t. I can’t remember the last time I went into the city, let alone into a mall.
“Tricks of living in the city, I guess…” My voice trails off as my gaze catches on the window of the Parks’ restaurant, or what used to be their restaurant. There’s a new sign next to the one that reads For Lease .I pull the car over to the curb to get a better look.
“Yeah, I’d imagine you don’t exactly have to fight for a parking spot when you go to the Shirt Shack.” Spencer is giggling to herself when she notices that I’m no longer paying attention, and she follows my line of sight. “‘Urban Ember,’” she reads aloud from the advertisement.
The picture depicts a man and a woman laughing together on the patio of an upscale lounge type restaurant, with modern fire tables on the patio. It looks like the type of place that serves overpriced cocktails and ‘tapas’ for people who want to go to a restaurant but don’t actually want to eat any food.
I can feel my blood pressure rising, my pulse thrumming in my ears as my fingers grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. The building isn’t even his yet and Carter is laying claim to it. And since when did Heartwood become ‘urban?’
“I don’t know, Grady … people might like to have a restaurant like this here,” Spencer says, her eyes still fixed on the sign. “The bar is great, but sometimes people enjoy getting dressed up for a nice date night.”
“Then they can come to the Whisky Jack,” I counter. “It’s not even about the restaurant, Spence. It’s the foothold it will give to other chains, just looking to make a buck at the expense of the locals.”
Spencer nods, her eyes narrowing as she thinks.
“I don’t like that look. I have a feeling it’s going to involve another makeover or some shit,” I say, flicking my eyes over to her momentarily before fixing them back on the road ahead of me as I pull away from the curb.
“Not quite,” Spencer says. “But we need to respond. PR is all about being one step ahead, Grady. When people see that sign and think about having somewhere more upscale to go to, we’re going to lose the advantage.”
“How do we get the advantage back?”
“We need to remind Heartwood what their values are. Remind them what’s at stake. I think I know how to do it.”A secretive smile plays on her lips. It gives me the distinct impression that she’s already formulated a plan and that I don’t really have a say anymore. The cogs in her brain are turning, and she hardly speaks for the rest of the drive.