Chapter 6
Bryn
Quinn: Found your cowboy.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, my heart leaping into my throat while my leg kicks out from under the cream fabric chair, opening the message thread fully from my notifications.
In an instant, my hands have gone from calm and steady to trembling and ice cold, all the blood rushing to my heart as it beats furiously in my chest. She found him? How? What does that mean? A picture? Has she been looking this whole time?
“What?”
The voice has my head shooting up from where it was buried in my phone, rereading the simple text.
Gran. Son of a... I'd forgotten I was sitting at her round wooden kitchen table, having coffee and breakfast with her, my plate of food lying partially eaten on the cream linen placemat that matches the chairs.
Or, well, not forgotten, but completely distracted.
“Oh, uh—”
“Don't you dare say nothing, Brynleigh Myers. That was something. It sounded juicy. What is it?” Gran's amber eyes shine brightly in my direction, the morning sunlight that promises another perfectly hot June day glinting through the large, picturesque windows that face the backyard.
I swallow the word that was about to come out of my mouth and look back at my phone, unable to handle the scrutiny from my grandmother's eyes.
It's not often that I keep things from Gran, but when it comes to my love life, we don't see eye to eye.
She's always wanting me to go out and seize the day, find a nice young man to settle down with, maybe give her great-grandchildren before she kicks the bucket—her words, not mine.
It's not that I don't want that for myself, but it isn't a priority.
Getting through school, which I'm now done with, working to make something of myself, and taking care of her—those are my priorities.
“Well, I… uhm…”
Damn it. I’d probably have a better time with this if I hadn’t told her the whole story the other night. At least then I could sluff it off as no big deal. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. We exchanged no personal information except our names.
I kicked myself all the way home and told Gran about it the next morning, deeming it safe to do so. She told me this was reason enough to be more active on social media. I glared at her. She knows I’m not one to do anything but scroll.
If I tell her he’s been found, she’s going to light up like a Christmas tree.
But I won’t lie to her.
“Quinn texted me,” I say, setting my phone down on the table to pick up my coffee mug. Pulling my right leg up on the chair beside me, I wrap an arm around my knee and meet my grandmother’s eyes. “She found Wyatt.”
As predicted, her eyes widen, glowing with excitement. I know her so well I can hear the thoughts rushing through her head, one after another.
Oh, Bryn, you need to contact him.
Oh, Bryn, maybe he’ll take you on that first date.
Oh, Bryn, if he’s that handsome and charming, I’ll bet he has you falling in love in no time.
Oh, Bryn, wouldn’t it be wonderful if you fell in love and settled down with him? I wish you would. You need to find a good man to marry. A man who treated you like your grandfather treated me.
She sucks it all in, refraining from saying any of those things as she lifts her coffee cup to her lips, hiding half her oval face from me. It doesn’t prevent me from seeing her cheekbones rise or the smile that goes along with it. “Well, that’s nice. How?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything else.” I take a sip of my coffee, waiting.
It’s only a moment before, “Did you ask?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Tilting my head to the side, I cock an eyebrow at her. “Someone interrupted me and wanted to know what the text said.”
Exasperated, Gran rolls her eyes with a heavy sigh, setting her cup down. “Message her back. Find out.”
“I will.” But instead, I pick up my half-eaten piece of toast smeared with cheese whiz and raspberry jam Gran made from the berries in the backyard. “Eventually.”
She picks up her own piece of toast with the same spreads on top. I learned it from her and my grandpa, after all. “I’m never going to see my great-grandkids, am I?”
“You have three. From my cousins.”
“Yours, Bryn. I want to meet yours.”
“Because I’m your favorite?”
“I’m not supposed to pick favorites.” She’s about to take a bite but pauses and looks over the piece of bread at me with a devilish smirk. “But yes.”
I give her the answer I always do. “You’re my favorite too, Gran.”
Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I watch as the fire truck backs into the bay at Station Nine. It’s been hours since Quinn text me this morning, and when I finally put Gran out of her misery and replied, Quinn ghosted me.
To be fair, she’s probably been busy with calls. I thought maybe I’d get lucky when Nate texted me and said they were on their way back and I could meet them at the station, but Quinn and Hailey’s ambulance is nowhere to be found in the bays.
I should have texted her back immediately this morning. It’s not like I couldn’t seem eager with Quinn. Of course I’d have questions about this. I had a great time, and I was bummed when we had to leave.
Did I need to leave, though?
Jordan offered to stay with me until Wyatt came back, saying the other three could leave. But there was no way I could stay at the bar with a sick friend needing to go home. The five of us were a unit, even if I’d spent half the night dancing with Wyatt instead of hanging out with them.
Maybe I should have just been hanging out with them.
Maybe I shouldn’t have danced with him for so long.
Maybe I should forget the entire night.
Dropping my head back against the headrest in my pristine sporty coupe, I close my eyes and expel a slow breath from my lungs. I’ve got time to make decisions when it comes to Wyatt. I’ll hear what Quinn has to say when she gets here, because eventually she’ll show up, or at least text me back.
It won’t matter. Your priorities are still set.
When the truck is almost completely backed in, I get out of my car, going to the trunk to pull out my travel massage table and the bag of sheets.
Every time one of their shifts lines up with one of my days off, I come to the station to help the guys out.
Nate and I worked out a deal when I was still in school, and it’s carried through since I became a certified massage therapist. Everyone in the station is a friend, and I like being able to help them.
Especially since some of them won’t help themselves.
Walking across the sidewalk and over the driveway of the station, I enter through the open bay door, finding Nate, Luke, and Brody dealing with their gear.
Luke breaks into a wide grin when he sees me, but there’s something off about it. He looks like a Cheshire cat in the way he’s beaming at me.
Nate gives me his normal easy smile. My boss for the last four years at 10-42, he took a chance on me when I was a twenty-one-year-old kid who didn’t have much experience besides walking across a stage and smiling. He’s done more for me than he knows.
“Hey,” he says, then looks through the open back door of the truck.
“Hey,” I reply, but my attention has already moved away from him and to Brody, shelving something on the truck. He’s who comes to mind when I think of ones that won’t help themselves. “Hey, Brody.”
The tallest man on the crew looks over his shoulder at me, gives me a nod, and then goes back to what he was doing.
The way he moves his arm tells me he’s not over his last major bail at Slab, a dangerous surfing spot in town.
It’s him who I always try to get on the table first, before a call can interrupt anything.
Sessions with the guys aren’t long because of the calls, but it’s a chance to see my friends when I’m not at work. Even if I’m still working.
“How’s the shoulder doing?” I ask Brody, but as I do, I glance at Luke who, despite dealing with gear on the truck, is still giving me a grin that says he’s up to no good.
The big man finishes and turns to me. “Better after your last visit. Thanks for that.”
“Good,” I nod, my attention coming back to dark-haired Brody. “You up for a session today? I could start with you.”
“Was hoping for it, actually.”
His honesty surprises me. Brody has never been one to jump at the chance to work on his injuries, but I quickly hide the shock with a smile and nod. Whatever relief I provided the last time must have been significant if he’s this willing.
The table strap on my shoulder is getting too heavy, so I ease it off and let the table rest down on the ground. It’s packed in a large carrying case, but it isn’t comfortable for more than a few minutes.
“Great. How long do you need?”
“Bryn Fucking Myers!” a voice yells from behind me, and I twist around, the table balancing against my hip, just in time to get grabbed into a hug by Liam. “Knew I saw you there!”
The air wheezes out of me at the unexpected contact, Liam pinning my arms to my sides. I swear my feet nearly leave the ground with how tight he’s holding me, and I awkwardly pat him on the back while trying not to think about the strap from my sheet bag digging into my other shoulder.
“Hi, Liam,” I croak. “I feel like you missed me or something.”
“Actually, I think you’re missing something,” he croons, and my stomach drops a few inches as he releases me and steps back enough I can see his face. His smirk. One that looks rather similar to Luke’s. “About six-one, ripped with muscle, cowboy hat. Sound like something you misplaced?”
Fuck.
I figured the guys would find out given that three of the girls are married or dating these guys and Quinn is… well, Quinn, of course they’d know. I’m not sure any of them know how to keep a secret from their significant others.
Not that Wyatt was a secret. But Quinn obviously shared whatever she learned this morning with them, if Liam’s face is any indication.
“You’re in luck because I found him.”
“I thought Quinn found him.”
He shakes his head, smirk getting bigger. “Nope.”
“It’s true, I was there. Liam found him—” Luke starts.