Chapter 8 Get Through In One Piece
GET THROUGH IN ONE PIECE
After my morning, a treat from Cherry’s is well deserved. Not only do I get my maple latte, but I order a whole box of sweet treats.
I have every intention of weighing down my emotions with bricks of chocolaty glazed croissants.
To say I shouldn’t have fed Thing One before doing her hair is an understatement.
I’ve never been more relieved to blow her our morning kiss through the daycare window than I was today. We both need this break, honestly.
“Good morning.” Elise smiles brightly as I wrestle my way to my desk, holding the coffee, treats, and my purse.
Elise takes the coffee. “Let me help.”
“Thanks.” I slide the box of sweets onto the corner of the desk and turn to my mother-in-law and friend. I sigh. Heavily.
She hands me one of the cups. “Is this one for me?”
I nod as I bring my cup to my lips and drink deeply. Then I sigh again.
She waits, brow raised. “Long morning?”
“We re-enacted World War Two with hairbrushes.”
Elise winces. “Mabel doesn’t like her hair brushed.”
I give Elise a pointed glare. “You’ve seen that child in the morning. She looks like she’s taking a stand for homeless birds everywhere.”
Elise snickers. “It’s a good cause.”
“Don’t,” I warn, flipping the lid off the box and plucking a treat. I take a big bite and frown as I notice the closed door of Herman’s office. “Is Herman here?”
“He’s here.” Elise looks suddenly guilty. I feel immediately suspicious. I eye her shifty eyes that abruptly refuse to meet mine and frown at the pink that floods her cheeks.
“Is he in a meeting?” God, this has got to be the best croissant Cherry has ever made.
“Yes.” Elise takes a long sip of her latte.
I narrow my eyes at her. “With who?”
I’m about to lick the yummy goo from the corner of my mouth when the office door opens, and the side profile of a man appears. At first, I can’t see him. Not really. Not the way he’s twisted back around to look at Herman, as though they’re still locked in conversation.
Still, even though I can’t see him, every hair rises on my body. It’s as though I’m static and he’s the charge. It’s enough to have me dropping my treat onto the stack of napkins.
Tanner exits the office, and I’m hit with the breadth of the other man’s size. Because Tanner is easily six-one, but the other man is touching six-six. Of course, he’s lugging work boots around on his feet, but still, that’d put him at just over six-four, six-five shoeless.
I can also see by the half of him that’s visible through the open office door, that he’s not only massive in height, but also in breadth.
Wide shoulders are covered by a dark brown leather jacket, and he’s wearing dark blue jeans.
Clearly, he’s the boss of a site, because although he’s in work boots, they’re clean.
Only supers stay that clean, as they’re mostly driving between sites.
Is Herman partnering with another builder?
The thought is a sour one. Judging by the fury I see in the tight lines of Tanner’s face; I’d say I’m not far off.
My eyes drift back to the other man as he starts to turn. And my world stops turning.
The man is Holt. Holt Wilder.
An uncomfortable heat blasts from the center of my ice-coated heart. The shards in my obliterated organ imbed deep. For a moment, I can’t even breathe.
Holt has always been fire, raging hot and claiming all in his path. Tate was the cool water that soothed the burns left in the wake of Holt. When Tate passed, every drop of that soothing water he infused inside me froze to ice. Now…now I just feel like the wreckage no one can avoid looking at.
With a sharp breath into my burning lungs, I force myself to straighten my shoulders. I hope I look even just a tad semi-composed right now. Though I feel kind of like I’m about to drift away on a strong wind.
Inside my chest, everything hurts. Even the bones that cage my broken heart ache.
Elise makes a noise. It’s a little higher than usual, and I know her well enough to know she’s nervous. She should be. I haven’t been in a room with Holt since I was seventeen, save for that terrible day fourteen months ago.
He hasn’t been back to Rubble Ridge. Not once.
And Tate tried. He tried so hard to gain Holt’s forgiveness.
I never tried.
I once told myself I was too much of a coward to try. The truth is far more complex. It wasn’t that I was a coward. I’d just loved him too much. And no matter the time that stretched between his dreams and my reality, that love never died. It never faded.
Tate knew it, and he loved me still.
I loved him for the steadiness with which he loved me. The gentle understanding and care he always handled me with.
God, I miss my husband. I’m terrified that the only thing capable of thawing the ice Tate left inside me is his brother.
I think I might cry.
Holt doesn’t stop moving until he’s standing close. Too close. His dark eyes are hard in a way they’ve never been hard on me. Somehow, I manage to stand my ground. Not to melt into the floor under my feet.
Somehow, I manage to speak. “Holt.”
“Faye.”
Prickles of heat needle my skin. Tiny goosebumps appear, and I note the way Holt’s dark eyes drop to them. When his eyes rise again to mine, nothing has changed. They’re still hard.
I clear my throat. “What are you doing here?”
He cocks his head, just slightly. “This will always be my town, Faye. Hockey may be my passion, but Wilder is my last name.” His eyes scan the length of me again, and his lip curls just enough to tell me he finds me lacking.
Offensive. My eyes burn. He leans in to growl quietly, “It’s my legacy.
” He straightens. “I’m here to help my family. ”
Herman lands a weathered hand on Holt’s shoulder. The clap of skin on leather is loud enough to make me flinch.
Herman’s eyes are soft on me. I don’t deserve it, though. Not after what I did to Holt.
Not after the way I hurt him. Not after the place I took between brothers.
Not after the promises I broke and the secrets I kept.
He has a right to hate me.
Regret is sour, but it’s worse when the thing you regret is also something you’d never change.
Never take back. I lived a beautiful life with a beautiful man, creating beautiful souls.
This man is the wreckage of all that beauty.
It hurts to face the truth of it all. A truth I still would not change.
“Holt is here to cover for me while I’m recovering, Faye, honey.”
“I could have overseen things around the office,” Tanner says roughly. I forgot he was even here, and my eyes pull jerkily to where he stands close to Elise’s desk.
It’s then, as I peer at Tanner, that I realize there’s water swimming in my eyes.
I don’t dare blink. If I do, I’m sure to squeeze out an accidental tear.
Herman says, “I need you in the field, Tanner. You know the ropes, the guys.”
“And Holt knows the business side of things?” Tanner almost scoffs. Almost, but doesn’t. He might be pissed, but he respects Herman too much to scoff at him.
“He’ll learn what he doesn’t know. And he has Faye here to guide him.” I flinch at the thought of being anywhere near Holt for any kind of time. The watery image of Elise looks sad where she stands next to Tanner, watching me with her youngest son.
She’s sad because me and Tate hurt him the way we did. But we didn’t have a choice, not really.
I was dealt my cards. I played my hand as best as I could.
But they won’t see it that way.
Now that I’m standing here, facing Holt, I’m not sure I see it that way still either.
Herman draws breath from the charged silence. “What the two of them can’t figure out together, me and Elise will be around to help with.”
“Right,” Tanner clips.
Herman looks back over his shoulder. “Do we got a problem, here?”
There’s a heavy pause before Tanner grits, “No, Sir.”
My eyes slide back to Holt and my insides jolt. I’m not sure he took his eyes from me even once. I stiffen against the shudder that threatens to roll through my body. “How long are you staying?”
Holt’s lip curls again. There’s so much disdain in his expression. It’s the shield he’s built around his hurt—his hate—I know.
I think knowing that makes it all worse.
“Eager for me to leave, peach?”
That name, said with so much hatred, nearly guts me. Quietly, I manage, “Just curious.”
“I’ll be sticking around until September. So, buckle up, baby. Figure this will be a long ride for you.”
“Holt Wilder,” Elise scolds sharply. “That is no way to talk to the woman who will be working alongside you for the foreseeable future.” She takes a sure step forward. “Nor is it the way my son talks to the woman who birthed me my grandbabies!”
Holt dips his chin, but not so much I don’t see the muscles popping in his jaw. “Apologies.”
I’m already shaken to the core. But somehow, the man manages to rattle me again, because when he lifts his head, he locks his eyes on me like he knows it’s torture and he wants to watch me suffer. Then he leans too far into my personal space.
Every part of me erupts into burning embers when his thumb connects with the side of my mouth. He swipes away the lingering glaze of my chocolate treat with the pad of his thumb, bringing it directly to his mouth. Mine drops as he sucks the chocolate clean from his thumb for everyone to see.
I think Elise gasps. I’m confident Tanner drops an F bomb. Herman chuckles!
“Forgot how good those taste.” Holt growls a rough sounding moan that sets my every burning ember into a full-on blaze. Then his hand snakes around me and he grabs my half-eaten croissant from my desk before he shoves the whole thing into his mouth.
He’s halfway to the door when he calls out, “The job waits for no one, Pop. Let’s get a move on.”
Herman shakes his head once, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes I haven’t seen since Tate left us. The sight is a whole new assault on my already battered self, and it takes everything I have inside me to walk myself around my desk before my legs give out and I sink into my chair.
I’m well and truly screwed considering this is what I have to look forward to for the next five months. Emotional warfare with Holt Wilder. As though I don’t engage in enough of that with Miss. Mabel.
I drop my head into my hands as a big fat tear slaps against my notepad.
I have zero chance of getting through this in one piece.