6. Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
COLTON
T he heavy bag swayed with each impact, absorbing the force of my punches. Left jab. Right cross. Left hook. The rhythmic thud of my glove against the bag echoed through the empty gym, and with each punch, a different thought flashed through my mind. Nashville. The case. Hope. Charlotte Oaks. Possibilities, and also consequences.
“You trying to kill that bag, or just give it a really bad day?” Tucker’s dry voice cut through my concentration.
I paused, chest heaving, and turned to see my best friend settling onto a nearby bench with his wrist wraps in hand.
“Maybe both,” I replied, wiping sweat from my brow. “Got a lot on my mind.”
Tucker nodded, studying me in a way that always made me feel like he could read my thoughts. “I can see that. Want to talk about it, or should I leave you to your one-sided boxing match?”
I chuckled and began unwrapping my hands, buying myself a quick second to gather my thoughts.
“It’s about that case in Nashville,” I said after a minute.
I’d gotten the call last night, and ordinarily, I would’ve jumped at the chance for a high-paying, high-profile job like this. It was a referral thanks to Tucker’s sister-in-law being a famous country music singer, and the fact that the job in Nashville involved a star-studded mystery made it the kind of case I couldn’t imagine passing up.
Tucker pursed his lips. “Could be a game-changer for the business. I really don’t want us to have to turn it down.”
“Yeah, I know,” I agreed, running a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. “But it’s not just about the business, you know? It’s...”
“It’s about Hope,” Tucker finished for me.
I nodded.
Tucker’s face shifted to one of understanding. “I get it. You don’t wanna leave her for Christmas.”
“We’re just starting to figure things out,” I said. “And the thing that got us to this point is that list of stuff to do in Charlotte Oaks at Christmas. How can I bail after I worked so hard to convince her to do it with me?”
The thought of missing it—missing that time with her—made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t used to. I looked away from Tuck, surprised to see Gertie trotting in like she owned the place. The goat made a beeline for me, her little hooves clicking on the boxing gym’s floor. She butted her head against my leg, looking up with those oddly knowing eyes.
“Hey there, troublemaker,” I said, bending down to scratch behind her ears.
“Listen, Colt,” Tucker said, “I could take the case in Nashville if you want.”
I straightened up, shaking my head immediately. “No way. It’s your first Christmas with Dakota. I can’t ask you to give that up. Plus, she scares me a little.”
“As she should. But for real, maybe I could take Kota up to Nashville, and she can help me.”
“You actually want to let her help you with a case?”
He wrinkled his nose. “No. But since she’s obsessed with trying to get me to let her, I could call it a Christmas present.”
“She’s gonna want to spend Christmas with her family.”
He seemed to think that over, then nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. You sure you don’t mind going? It’ll be a hefty payday, but you need to decide if it’s worth it.”
“I know.”
As if on cue, Gertie headbutted me in the shins, nearly knocking me off balance. I looked down at her, bewildered. “What’s gotten into you?”
Tucker chuckled. “I don’t think she thinks it’s worth it. ”
I felt my face heat up, realizing how transparent my feelings must be if even a goat could pick up on them. “Hey now,” I said, feeling ridiculous as I addressed Gertie directly. “I haven’t made any decisions yet, alright?”
Gertie bleated in response, fixing me with a stare that seemed far too knowing for a goat.
“I can’t believe I’m trying to defend myself to a goat,” I muttered.
“Welcome to Charlotte Oaks,” Tucker quipped.
As our laughter faded, a heavy silence settled over the gym. I knew what I had to do next, but the weight of it sat like a stone in my stomach.
“I need to talk to Hope,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
Tucker nodded, and I gathered my things, my mind already racing ahead to the conversation I was dreading. As I headed for the door, Gertie trotted alongside me as if offering silent support.
The walk to the police station felt like a slow tug-of-war between dread and determination. I knew Hope would be on her lunch break right now—like a dose of Christmas magic since I didn’t want to put this conversation off any longer than I already had.
Every nod and quick hello from the people of Charlotte Oaks reminded me of why I’d fallen for this place so quickly. Leaving it, even for a little while, felt like leaving a part of myself behind. But it wasn’t just the town. It was her.
Gertie abandoned me on the steps leading to the station—the coward—and as I pushed through the doors, the familiar mix of coffee and lemon-scented cleaner wrapped around me. The desk sergeant barely glanced up as he waved me through—perks of running a PI business that’s practically become an extension of the department.
And then there she was, sitting at one of the round tables in the break room, her blonde waves cascading over her shoulder as she picked at her lunch. My chest tightened at the sight, like it always did. But guilt gnawed at the edges this time, bitter and sharp.
“Hey there,” I said, trying to keep my voice light despite the weight sitting on my chest. “Got a minute?”
Hope’s face lit up in a warm smile, and for a second, the guilt wavered. “That depends. List business?”
“Not exactly.” I dropped into the chair beside her, tapping out a restless rhythm on my thigh. “PI business. We got a case in Nashville.”
Her brow furrowed, concern clouding her eyes. “Why don’t you look happy about it?”
“I am,” I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “It’s a big case—great for the business. I just don’t love that it’s in Nashville. It’s close, but not close enough to commute every day. I’d have to stay there while I worked it.”
Understanding flickered across her face, followed by a shadow of something else—something I hated to see. “Lemme guess,” she said, squeezing my hand. “You have to leave soon, and it’s gonna put a monkey wrench in our Christmas plans.”
I nodded, the guilt hitting harder now that she’d said it aloud. “I’ll do everything I can to make it back in time for the parade on Christmas Eve. We can finish the list in a Christmas Day marathon if we have to.”
Her smile was soft, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’d love that. But, Colton, don’t worry about me. This wasn’t really my thing to begin with, remember?”
I winced. She wasn’t wrong, but the whole point of the list—of everything we’d done so far—was to change that. To make it something she could love. Something we could share. And the progress we’d made? It was priceless.
But I also had a duty to my partner. We had a business to run, and in today’s day and age, turning down jobs like this one wouldn’t be a good move.
Hope’s gaze met mine, steady and full of emotion. “If this is a good opportunity for you and the business, you can’t pass it up.”
The fact that she’d read my mind, coupled with her selflessness, hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d been agonizing over this conversation, and here she was, putting my needs first without hesitation. It wasn’t fair to her. “But what about our plans? The list?”
“Maybe we can finish it next year,” she said, her smile tinged with sadness. “If you’re still around.”
Her words cut deeper than I expected. “I’ll be around,” I said, the defensiveness in my tone surprising even me.
She nodded, her expression unreadable. “I hope you are.”
The way she said it, quiet and almost resigned, made my chest ache. I hated that she might doubt me, that I might’ve planted even the smallest seed of insecurity. And worst of all, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was already bracing herself for me to be just another person who didn’t stay.