Chapter Four
Grayson
The diner’s decorated in silver tinsel, red bows, and there’s Christmas music playing in the backdrop as the usual mix of locals enjoy Rugged Mountain’s famous Christmas pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
It’s a local delicacy that people can’t get enough of this time of year.
I think it’s the flaky cinnamon in the crust. Either way, the diner smells like nostalgia.
Warm sugar, pine from the garland, and the faint scent of coffee.
I sit in the corner booth, the one with the cracked red vinyl and the best view of the snow-dusted street.
Holly is late and I’m starting to wonder if she’s going to show at all.
I keep telling myself not to read into it.
She’s probably busy with Kade or driving extra slow to account for the snow that’s falling heavily outside, but the truth is I’d be disappointed if she didn’t show up.
There’s something about her I couldn’t stop thinking about all day. Sure, she’s gorgeous. Long dark hair, sweet hazel eyes, a smile that nearly knocked me out, but there’s more behind the way she looks, and I want to know everything about her.
What keeps her up at night? What music does she listen to when she’s driving into work? What was her childhood like? What does she dream about.
I’ve never wanted to know any of these things about any other human being, ever. It’s like Aunt Vera slipped something into my drink and now I’m fixated.
The bell over the front door rings and everyone glances up, noticing the sweet girl with the long brown hair.
I see her right away. A black zipper coat with the hood up, her smile lighting the way before her. God, who the fuck am I? I’m never like this. Smiles don’t light up anything. It’s poetic bullshit.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” She rushes toward the table, stripping off her coat as she talks.
“I jumped into the shower, but the water wouldn’t get warm, so I checked the pilot light and that’s out.
Usually, I just have to light it, but this time…
nothing. And of course, my landlord is out of town until January so I’m on my own, I guess.
” She exhales heavily as she hangs her coat on the hook outside the booth then slides in opposite me, leaning into the table as though she’s completely exhausted by life.
“I really could use a solid break. I mean, if I hadn’t run across these books today, I think I might’ve just packed everything up and moved Kade and I to a remote island where the only responsibilities are befriending sea turtles and collecting coconuts. ”
Fuck! Why am I worried about disappointing her?
“About that,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “My guy got back to me a few minutes ago.”
Her eyes lift optimistically, as though she’s excited for the details. I hate what I’m about to say. I liked the smile on her face earlier today. The one with hope stitched into the corners.
“It’s rare,” I clear my throat, “but apparently the restitched binding scrubs off a lot of the value. My guy values both titles at about five hundred dollars.”
“A piece?”
“Together.” I swallow hard, watching the lump in her throat widen. “I’m so sorry. We weren’t trying to mislead you. It was—”
“Oh, I never would’ve thought that.” She waves the whole thing away as she wraps her hand around a warm coffee mug the waitress sets on the table.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.
” She sips the coffee slowly as though she’s trying to compose herself.
“I, ugh…” A tear falls down her face, then another, though she wipes them away quickly.
“I’m sorry. This is… maybe I should go.”
“No.” I reach toward her in comfort, resting my hand on top of hers. She’s unraveling in front of me, and I hate how much I want to fix it. “Don’t go.”
Her eyes flick up to mine and I feel the weight of her exhaustion settle between us. “I’m not in a good head space. I mean, my whole life is falling apart.”
“Misery loves company. Why don’t you talk. Unloading can help.” I swear it’s the only time I’ve ever offered my ear to anyone ever.
She stares toward me, bright pink lips parted. “I’d rather hear about you. I could use a distraction.”
I lean back against the booth and sip my coffee slowly.
I don’t usually open up, but I can see how a distraction would be good right now, so I start talking.
“I grew up here, on the mountain. My parents passed away when I was young in a car accident. I don’t remember much about them.
I was a little over three years old when they died.
My uncle Pat took guardianship and taught me everything I know.
How to fix things, how to keep myself grounded, how to split wood without losing a finger. He’s the reason I went into masonry.”
“Was he a mason?”
“Owned a stonework and restoration company. I started as an apprentice on one of his teams when I was fifteen. He taught me how to read a blueprint, how to spot cracks in the foundation, and how to mix mortar. When he retired, I took the business over.” I scrub my hand down over my beard.
“I like knowing I can take care of things when they’re falling apart, which brings me to your water heater. ”
She sets the mug down slowly. “I don’t want to put you out. You’ve already taken so much time with me.”
I shift in the booth and rest my forearms on the table. “It’s not a big deal. Besides, I have a favor to ask.”
“A favor?” She narrows her brows and leans in. “What kind of favor?”
“The banana bread.”
Her soft lips twitch. “What about it?”
Red and green lights twinkle through the glass window. “My crew is doing a baked goods Christmas exchange thing, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
“So, you want banana bread?”
“It’s top notch. My aunt brought it home for us all the time, passed it off as her own.”
A genuine smile lifts her cheeks, and I swear right now that if asking her for banana bread every day for the rest of my life made her smile like this, I’d ask for it again and again.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” I repeat, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’d need about twenty loaves.”
“Twenty loaves?” Her jaw drops before she takes a sip of coffee. “I’ve never had a big order before. I mean, I’ve always wanted one. My dream is to have a little bread truck, but I’ve never really had a true order.”
“Is that too much work? I have no idea how long something like that takes.”
Her eyes are shining again. “That’s not too much. No, I can handle that.”
“Good.” I nod once, firm and deliberate, then reach for my wallet and set it on the table with a quiet thud. “You let me know what you need in terms of supplies and payment, and I’ll make sure you have it upfront.”
“Oh,” her head pulls back as though this part is making her uncomfortable, “I have no idea how much to charge. I’ve never actually done this before.
I mean, I brought a few loaves here and there to the bookstore, but I’m pretty sure your aunt and my friends were the only ones that bought. Umm, five bucks a loaf?”
“Five dollars? No, you’re underselling yourself.” I shake my head, lean back in the booth, and scrub my hand down over my jaw. “You’ve got ingredients, time, and effort. That’s worth more than a few bucks.”
I pull out my phone and swipe across the screen, searching for the going rate for banana bread.
“Says here you should be charging close to twenty,” I mutter, tilting the screen toward her. “Plus, I’ll throw in an extra five per loaf since I’m ordering from your artisan bakery and you’re adding all those special things you add.”
Her brows narrow. “Twenty-five dollars a loaf is robbery. My loaves aren’t worth that much. I don’t want people to think I’m greedy.”
“No one’s going to think that, especially not me.
I’m paying you twenty-five a loaf,” I say firmly, “and I’m coming over tonight to fix that water heater, right after we finish our coffee.
” I open my wallet and slide five hundred dollars toward her.
It’s more than I’ve ever paid for bread in my life.
I don’t usually carry this kind of money with me, but I stopped at the bank earlier to pick up cash for a supply run tomorrow at a small stone shop west of the mountain.
They don’t take cards. Guess I’ll be stopping at the bank again in the morning.
Hell, I’d go right now and order fifty more loaves if it made her life better.
She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off gently. “No arguments.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing,” her tone is soft and sweet, “but you don’t have to feel bad for me. I’m perfectly capable of finding money and fixing the water heater myself.”
“I know,” my voice stays low and steady, “but I want to help.”
“I don’t need help, though.” She leaves the cash on the table and tucks her hands onto her lap. “I’m sure some YouTuber somewhere can show me how to fix the water heater, and I’ll find money somewhere. I always do.”
“Look,” I plant my boot flat against the floor like I’m bracing for kickback, “I’m pretty sure I have a solid reputation of being the most stubborn man of all time, so I get not wanting to take help, but I also know that sometimes the strongest thing you can do is let someone in.”
She glances toward me and laughs. “What cereal box did you read that from?”
“Please.” I let out a chuckle and shake my head. “That came from the back of a bag of concrete. Right next to how to suppress your emotions.”
She’s full on smiling now, and I swear the tension in her shoulders releases, just a little.
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say, gaze stuck on hers. “Nothing but banana bread. I promise.”
For a long moment she stays still, and I watch the gears turn behind her eyes as though she’s trying to decide what to say next.
“What if…” She leans forward and then back again as though she’s regretting the words before she’s spoken them.
“What?” I ask, brows lifting.
She shakes her head, then glances out the window and back toward me again. “Nothing. It was stupid.”
I lean in, forearms planted firmly on the table as a grin stretches onto my face. “Now I gotta know.”
She hesitates then exhales through her nose. “What if you did more than fix my water heater?”
I blink, unsure I heard her right.
She doesn’t meet my eyes. “I mean… I’m sure I’m not your normal cup of tea and all, I just, it’s been so long, and it’s not even really about sex.
I just… I miss touch.” She sighs. “God, this is just sounding more and more pathetic. Why am I saying this?” Her cheeks turn a shade of red that matches the flashing lights outside.
Well damn. This has never happened before.
“I’m sorry.” She covers her face and refuses to look toward me.
“My friend was trying to convince me to be reckless and I… I told you I was a mess tonight.” Digging through her bag for change, she slides up from the table.
“I’m literally losing my mind. I’m so sorry.
You’re here, trying to be kind for Christmas, and I’m throwing myself at you like some cheap whore.
” She tosses a dollar in change down on the counter and rushes out of the diner and into the blustering cold.
She’s halfway across the parking lot, coat flapping in the wind, her shoulders hunched like she’s trying to disappear into herself.
I don’t think. I just head out the door.
“Hey,” I call out, trying to cut through the wind that’s whipping through the snow.
She doesn’t pause, so I keep following, striding through the snow behind her. It doesn’t take long before I’m close enough to land my hand on her shoulder. “You can’t leave like this.”
Her frame turns slowly, eyes glassy, breath fogging between us. “I’m an idiot.”
I lift a hand, slow and careful, and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You did great. You know what you need and you’re incredibly straight forward about it.” I can’t stop a grin from lifting my cheeks.
Her eyes roll and she turns away again. “Oh my God! This is so embarrassing!”
I step around her, boots crunching through the snow until I block her path enough that she pauses. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
The words hang there, and I hate how badly I want her to stay in this moment with me. Snow swirls around us, blurring the edges of the diner and the hardware store across the street.
Her brows lift, just slightly. “Yet, I’m the only one offering sex in a diner booth.”
I grin again, wider this time, thankful for the humor she uses to diffuse all these emotions. “That was going to be the next thing out of my mouth, I swear.”
She snorts, half amused, half mortified as she buries her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
I shrug and pull her in closer. “I’m glad you said it out loud.”
Her lips part, but no words come out, leaving only the sound of her breath and the wind swirling around us.
She’s asking to be seen, to be wanted.
Little does she know, I want all of her.
I lean in, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath, before landing on her soft and chilled lips.
A tiny sigh breaks loose as I hold her close to me. There’s no rush, just the slow press of her mouth against mine.
Her fingers curl into my coat and her curved frame trembles as I brush my thumb against her cheek. “Let’s go fix your water heater.”
“Yeah,” she smiles sweetly, “let’s go fix my water heater.”