Chapter 14
Landon
The sound of Nova’s laugh drifts in before the door even opens. It’s bright and full, the kind that always makes me brace myself because trouble usually follows close behind.
I glance up from the counter where I’ve been sorting through intake slips. The bell jingles, and there they are—Nova, scarf hanging loose around her neck, carrying a paper bag that smells like fried samosas. Marcy’s at her side, arms laden with shopping bags, cheeks pink from the cold.
I shouldn’t notice the way she looks different. Relaxed. Softer somehow. But I do.
Nova shoves the bag onto the counter like she owns the place. “Fuel for the testosterone brigade,” she announces.
Wes pops his head out from the bay, already grinning. “You’re a saint.”
“You’re just hungry.”
“Same thing,” he says, already reaching for the bag.
Marcy laughs under her breath. It’s quiet, but I hear it. I always hear it.
I force myself to stay put, just nod at them both. “Have a good time?”
Nova bumps her shoulder into Marcy’s, grinning. “We did. She’s officially upgraded from civilian to honorary Black Pines local. Bought decor for the apartment and everything.”
Marcy flushes, her eyes meeting mine. “Nothing that will damage the walls or anything.”
“Anything you do up there will be an upgrade, believe me,” Nova says, eyes glinting. “Right, Landon?”
“Right,” I agree. “Make the place yours, Marcy.”
“Good.” Nova says sweetly, sliding past me toward the back. “I’m out of tea so I’m grabbing a couple bags before I go.”
That leaves me and Marcy for a moment, the noise of the garage muffled by the closed bay door. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, gaze flicking to the paperwork scattered across the desk.
“Didn’t mean to be gone so long,” she says softly.
I shake my head. “I told you to take the day. We survived just fine without you for one day.”
“Just barely,” Wes mumbles around a mouthful of fried dough.
I shoot him a look and he just shrugs, following Nova into the back.
I turn back to Marcy. “You look… better.”
Her brows lift. “Better?”
“Lighter,” I say, searching for the right word. “Like going out helped.”
For a second, her lips part like she might argue, but then she just gives the faintest smile. “It did.”
Something eases in my chest at that.
Nova reappears, tea in hand, scarf already wound back around her neck. “Alright, I’ll get out of your hair. You boys play nice.” She leans down to hug Marcy quick, whispering something I can’t catch that makes Marcy smile, then breezes toward the door.
I follow her outside, more out of habit than anything else. The air’s cold, sharp in my lungs. Nova pulls her coat tighter, then turns on me with that look—the one that’s half little sister, half interrogation.
“So.”
I arch a brow. “What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me.”
I sigh, already bracing. “What are you fishing for?”
“Fishing?” Her grin is pure trouble. “Please. I already know. Just wanted to see you squirm.”
“Nova—”
“Relax, I’m not gonna grill you.” She leans back against the railing, eyes bright. “I just wanted to say… she looks comfortable. With you. That’s not nothing.”
The words hit somewhere deep. I cross my arms, forcing my voice steady. “She’s been through hell. Comfortable’s all I’m aiming for.”
“And maybe more,” Nova adds softly, but there’s no edge to it. Just truth.
I look away, out toward the tree line. Snow still clings stubbornly to the pines. “She needs space.”
“She does,” Nova agrees. “But space doesn’t mean distance. You’ve already shown her she can lean on you without you taking over. That’s rare.”
Her words settle in my chest, heavy but not unwelcome.
Nova bumps my arm lightly with her shoulder, grin returning. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your grease and grumbling. Just… don’t overthink it, big brother. If she’s smiling around you, that’s already more than most men manage.”
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “You done?”
“For now.” She kisses my cheek, then heads down the steps. “Don’t mess it up.”
When her car pulls onto the street, I release a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Comfortable. The word echoes in my head like a lifeline thrown into dark water.
It should feel simple, but it doesn’t. Instead, it feels like standing at the edge of a cliff, unable to see how far the drop goes.
And for the first time in a long while, I want to leap.