Chapter 18
CASH
“Beautiful morning today, Cash!” Jim Ross called out as I walked toward the front porch. He straightened up from where he was standing in the garden bed, hands on his hips, and regarded me suspiciously. “It is Cash, right?”
I nodded.
Jim’s craggy face didn’t lose its suspicion.
“Because yesterday I was over at Walmart in South Hill picking up some tank cleaner for the RV, and got talking to you about what you wanted for dinner tonight, and dammit if that reprobate brother of yours didn’t have me convinced I had to make shrimp cocktail and crab claws before he finally admitted it was him.
” He grunted. “We’re having ribs and potato salad. ”
“I like potato salad,” I said.
Jim tucked his screwdriver into the pocket of his jeans and nodded at the porch railings. “What do you think?”
The old Veterinarian sign had changed. It still said Dr. Jim Ross DVM and it would for a few more months yet, but there was a new panel fixed underneath it. It said Dr. Mason Ross DVM in curling letters.
Warmth bubbled up in my chest and I smiled. “I like it.”
Mason had been gone for three weeks. We texted every day, because I wasn’t good at talking on the phone.
Mason sent me voice messages telling me about his day, though, and I listened to them over and over until the ache in my chest at his absence eased.
I missed him. Dog missed him too. But Mason had needed to go back to his old job in Cincinnati and give them his notice, and cancel his lease on his apartment, and hire a moving truck for his furniture, and a whole lot of other things that you didn’t have to think about when the only time you’d left home was with your twin brother, the clothes on your back, and the devil snapping at your heels.
I followed Jim up onto the porch and through into reception.
The walls inside gleamed, and the air was heavy with the smell of fresh paint—all part of Jim’s promise to hand the practice over to Mason in good shape.
Dog burst out from somewhere at the back of the house—the kitchen, probably—his whole body wriggling so much in delight that he was going sideways as much as forward. But he made it to me eventually, jumping up so I could give him scruffs and hugs.
“If you’re walking him down Main Street,” Jim said hopefully.
“A cappuccino and an apricot Danish?” I asked.
When Jim had arrived back in town, I’d been wary at first, worried because he was someone new and worried that he might not want me coming around his practice, but my fears had been groundless.
He had a warmth to him that reminded me of Mason and set me at ease, and it hadn’t been long before he’d ended up on my list of safe people to talk to.
That list was slowly growing, even if I still didn’t say much.
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Jim handed me the money to cover the cost of his order, then patted me on the shoulder and headed upstairs.
I put Dog on his leash and we headed out for his walk and to collect Jim’s brunch. We had to stop a few times while Dog sniffed at an interesting patch of grass and peed, but I didn’t mind. It was a nice day, and it felt good to be outside in the sunlight.
There was a line when we got there and I waited my turn, shooting Chase a quick smile when he spotted me.
There was a line most days at Gobble De Goose, in spite of the dumb name.
People came from all around for their coffee and pastries, and Lee’s Filipino specialties were particularly popular.
Chase loved to puff his chest out and tell people that the business was thriving because his boyfriend was a genius.
Of course I gave him shit for acting like a fucking sap when it came to Lee—it was my duty as his twin—but in reality I was happy for him.
I was happy for both of us because after today my boyfriend would be living right here in Goose Run too.
When Mason had told me that he planned to buy the practice from his uncle and asked if I’d be interested in dating him properly, I’d almost been afraid to believe it at first because it seemed impossible that I might get to have this.
Then, once I’d accepted he really was staying in Goose Run, I’d overthought it and panicked, worried that he felt obliged to move here on my behalf.
It turned out when it came to something I really, really wanted, my optimism dissolved like the raccoon-washed cotton candy.
But I’d learned enough to know I could fight back against the panic and anxiety.
I spent an entire afternoon with Mr. Conrad, assembling and disassembling rows of plastic Lego bricks and talking about my fears and feelings, and by the end of it, I’d managed to get my head around the concept that if Mason was deciding to stay, that was his choice to make.
It wasn’t up to me to second-guess his motives.
And if I was part of the reason he was staying, so what?
It just meant he felt some of the same things about me as I felt for him.
I wasn’t quite ready to put a name to those feelings yet—it was a big step—but I suspected it wouldn’t be long before I was. And when that day came, I’d say those words without hesitation, because Mason deserved to hear them.
He deserved every good thing I could give him.
“Apricot Danish and a cappuccino?” Chase asked when I got to the front of the line.
I nodded.
Chase slid a Danish into a bag, plus a cookie I hadn’t asked for, then busied himself at the hissing coffee machine for a moment. When the coffee was done, he slammed a lid on it and slid it across the counter to me. Then he took his apron off, balled it up, and yelled, “I’m taking my break!”
The lady behind me in line drew a deep breath, maybe to complain, but Chase just glared and she snapped her mouth shut.
By the time we’d made it to the front door, Tyler was already taking her order, and his coffee was better than Chase’s anyway.
I’d never tell Chase that, though, because I didn’t want to be clubbed to death with a portafilter.
Dog wriggled with excitement as Chase and I approached the bench where I’d tied him up. I sat down and scritched his chin the way he liked—Dog, not Chase. If I’d tried to scritch Chase under the chin, that clubbed-to-death thing might happen for real.
“So,” Chase said, giving me the side-eye, “I’m guessing you won’t be home tonight?”
He said it like he was annoyed, but I knew him better than that.
I shrugged. “Probably not. You know how it is.”
“Call of the dick,” he said with a wise nod.
“Fuck off.” But my face was burning and probably bright red.
Chase nudged me and grinned. “I guess it’s your turn to smell of jizz, huh?”
I nudged him back. “Asshole.” But we both knew I didn’t mean it.
We sat there and shared the chocolate chip cookie, ignoring Dog’s pleading gaze. There were plenty of ways I wanted to welcome Mason home, but poisoning his dog with chocolate wasn’t one of them.
“I’m glad Mason’s staying,” Chase said finally. “He’s not a total dick.”
“He’s less of a dick than you,” I said and stole the last chunk of cookie. But secretly I was pleased. Chase was still fiercely protective of me—probably always would be—so coming from him, “not a total dick” was practically a Michelin star, or whatever the boyfriend equivalent was.
I pulled out my phone and checked the time, and Chase asked, “When does he arrive, anyway?”
“He said around two.”
“That’s only a few hours away,” Chase said.
“I know.” I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
“I still can’t believe you stole a dog and ended up dating a hot vet.”
“Yeah.” I knew what he meant. Sometimes I couldn’t believe it myself. Mostly I just wondered how I’d gotten so lucky. How we both had.
Like he was reading my thoughts, Chase bumped his shoulder against mine. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t run when we did?”
“Jesus, Chase. Why the hell would I do that? I already have nightmares.”
He grimaced. “Yeah.”
“I think…” I drew in a deep breath and held it long enough that the words were ready. “I think that what happened to us really sucked, but the one good thing to come out of it was that we ended up in Goose Run. I think we were meant to be here.”
“It’s kind of a shithole, though,” Chase said.
“Well, we’re kind of shithole people.”
The smile Chase gave me had an edge of vulnerability to it. “Maybe we were. But maybe we’re not so much now?”
“We’re not,” I said, feeling a surge of the same protectiveness for him that he usually did for me. “They wouldn’t even fucking recognize us, Chase.”
I didn’t say who. I didn’t want to even mention their names on a day as good as this one. And I didn’t have to, because Chase knew.
“Yeah,” he agreed with a crooked grin. “Fuck them.”
We fist bumped.
The door of the bakery swung open and Lee stuck his head out and waved at me, ignoring Chase completely. “Hey, Cash. Is that brother of yours ever coming back to work?”
Chase rolled his eyes. “My boss is an asshole.”
“Yeah, but you like him that way.”
“I saw him first,” Chase said. “So I already called dibs.”
I shrugged. “Got one of my own, so I don’t want yours.”
Chase snorted, but the smile he gave me was secretive and pleased. “We’ve done pretty good, haven’t we?” He stood up and gave Dog a pat. “See you.”
“Okay.”
Chase gave me a little wave and then, to counteract the sweetness of that, the middle finger. He hurried back inside Gobble de Goose and Lee gave me another wave as the door jingled closed behind both of them. I could see Chase laughing at something Lee said as he approached him.
I scratched Dog behind the ears.
“We have done pretty good,” I whispered to Dog. “You have too, you know.”
Dog’s tongue lolled, and his tail swiped back and forth against the pavement in happy agreement.
Mason arrived while I was peeing.