Chapter 3
Madison
Ibarely slept that night.
Even though Blair had insisted I take the guest room and tucked Olive in beside me, my mind wouldn’t stop spinning.
Every creak of the old farmhouse had me tensing, as if the storm might suddenly come roaring back.
But it wasn’t just that. It was the mess waiting for me at home, the roof, the water damage, the endless list of what I couldn’t possibly afford to fix.
By morning, I was running on fumes. Olive, of course, bounced out of bed like the storm had never happened, her curls wild, her little voice bright as she asked if Aunt Bee would make pancakes.
Blair, being Blair, had already beaten me to the kitchen. There was coffee brewed and bacon already cooked, as Greyson sat at the table sipping from a mug that looked comically small in his big hands. The picture of domestic bliss.
I wanted to be happy for them. I was happy for them. But there was this ache too, this tiny twist in my chest at how easy they made it look. Meanwhile, I was barely keeping my head above water.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Blair said gently as I shuffled in. She handed me a mug before I could even ask. “Rough night?”
I nodded, blowing on the coffee before taking a sip. “I kept thinking about the house. It’s bad, Blair. Really bad.”
Her expression softened. “I figured. The storm tore through half the town. But don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.”
That ‘we’ made me want to cry.
Greyson leaned back in his chair. “Seth and his crew are already out this morning checking damage. He’s got a team from his firm in town.”
At the sound of that name, my stomach twisted. Seth. Blair’s golden-boy older brother. Wisteria Creek’s prodigal son turned hotshot architect. If I closed my eyes, I could still hear him from years ago, smug and maddening, always ready with a smart remark when we were kids.
I braced myself for the next words, and sure enough, Blair didn’t waste any time.
“Maddie,” she said carefully, like she was approaching a wild animal that might bolt, “I know you can’t go back home yet. Greyson and I…” She trailed off, glancing at him.
Greyson cleared his throat, looking both guilty and apologetic. “We’ve got a lot on our plates right now. With the bar, and… well.” His hand brushed over Blair’s as if to say the rest without words. The trying-for-a-baby thing. I knew.
Blair leaned in closer. “But Seth has space. His guesthouse, remember? It’s completely separate from his place. You and Olive could stay there until your house is livable again.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “Seth? As in your brother, Seth?”
Blair winced. “It’s not ideal. ”
“That’s an understatement,” I muttered.
Images of Seth’s smirk flashed through my head. The way he used to tease me when I trailed after Blair as a kid. The cocky remarks, the eye rolls, the way he always made me feel like the silly little tagalong no one wanted around. And now Blair wanted me to live on his property?
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said quickly. “We’ll figure something else out. Maybe a motel or something else.”
“Madison,” Blair interrupted gently, her hand warm on mine.
“You don’t have to do this alone. Olive needs somewhere safe, and you need to breathe for five minutes without worrying if the roof is going to fall on your head.
Seth’s place is perfect. And knowing him, he’ll be out working most of the time anyway. ”
I pressed my lips together, staring into my coffee like it might give me an escape route. The truth was, Blair was right. I didn’t have the money for a motel, and my house wasn’t an option. Olive needed stability.
Still, the thought of owing Seth anything made my skin crawl.
“I’ll think about it,” I said finally.
Blair gave me a knowing smile. “That’s all I ask.” But I had the sinking feeling she’d already won.