Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
HAZEL
There was something about finishing a job that felt like a victory lap. The Sonoma project was nearly there: clean lines, fresh trim, and enough sweat equity in the walls to bind us for life.
Still, it hadn’t been the highlight of my day.
That honor went to breakfast.
I could still feel the soft warmth of Penny’s café clinging to my skin like sunlight after a storm.
Coffee, pancakes, my name being shouted across the café like a battle cry, and Tucker pretending not to smile when I teased him about the calendar.
At first, he’d kept on his game face, like maybe nothing had happened.
Like we hadn’t unraveled in my childhood bedroom, layer by layer, confession by confession, until I was raw and exposed and wide open in a way I hadn’t been in years.
I was proud of myself for talking about the past, and even though some of what he’d said had hurt, I was proud of him too.
This didn’t mean I had any idea of where we stood.
But this morning, I’d caught him looking at me like I mattered. Like I wasn’t a mistake he’d dodged, or a girl who’d once broken his heart, but someone who still took up space in it.
And in an hour or two, we were going to talk.
And not in the flirty, ignoring-our-past way. A real conversation.
My palms were already sweating just thinking about it.
Part of me wanted him to tell me again how he’d meant to come that night. That he’d regretted not showing up ever since. And not, as I’d feared all these years, that he’d felt like he’d dodged a bullet.
Which, let’s face it, he had.
But he’d already bared his soul. And the real truth was I held equal blame. I hadn’t reached out while I’d been gone. Not because I didn’t forgive him but because I didn’t think I deserved him.
I was holding out hope that we weren’t just two people who’d almost made it. Maybe we still had a shot. And maybe that kind of optimism was dangerous.
Hope had a sneaky way of slipping under my skin, making promises it had no business making.
And it wasn’t just about Tucker. I’d had calls from people who lived in Star Falls, people who wanted me to do work for them, renovate their house, their office.
With or without the Seattle offer, I had more work than I could dream of.
If I wanted it.
So, instead of spiraling into the what-ifs like usual, I threw myself into work. Because work made sense. Tools didn’t lie. Nails held their promise. Wood split and sanded and bent if you applied the right kind of pressure.
Unlike people.
I wiped my hands on my jeans, leaving behind a constellation of sawdust. The day was already warm, sun slanting through the skeletal frame of what would one day be a wraparound porch.
My crew had cleared out for lunch, leaving the jobsite blessedly quiet, until a familiar SUV crunched to a stop on the gravel drive.
Kiera hopped out, a canvas tote slung over her shoulder and a suspiciously cheery smile on her face. “I come bearing snacks and sibling-related gossip.”
I gave her a look. “And…?”
“Wow, suspicious much?”
“You don’t normally drive out to the edge of town just to bring me snacks.”
Kiera held up two iced coffees like a peace offering. “Bribery first. Interrogation second.”
“Fair.” I took the coffee.
We sat on the edge of the porch foundation, legs dangling, boots covered in dust. Kiera opened her tote and pulled out a bag of cookies.
I dove right in, then moaned in delight. “I’d marry this cookie and have its babies.”
“They’re from Penny. She says being pregnant makes her want to bake.”
“She also says being pregnant makes her horny, sad, and homicidal, all at the same time.”
Kiera smiled. “She’s become a true Colburn.”
“You going to tell me what you want to know, or just feed me into submission?” I asked in amusement.
“Fine. I do have a question.”
“Okay,” I said. “But if I don’t like it, I get the rest of the cookies to myself.”
“Deal.” Kiera stared at me a beat. “Listen. I know my brothers can be clueless, but I also know how much you mean to Tucker. Then and now. He’s always been the most private of all of us. I think he simply wanted to keep it private, between the two of you.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” I said. “But also, that wasn’t a question.”
Her eyes softened. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Ever. But if you ever need to unload, I’m here. They might be clueless, but I’m not. You’re my sister, in every way that counts.”
My throat tightened around a mouthful. “Thank you, and right back at you. But I still haven’t heard a question.”
Kiera snorted. “Fine. I’ll get to it. At breakfast, Tucker looked like he’d been kicked in the soul. Didn’t even touch his pancakes. And that man could eat an entire stack during a five-alarm fire.”
I looked down at my cookie. “You want to know if he’s okay.”
“Yes,” she said gently. “He wouldn’t tell me anything.”
I exhaled slowly. “It’s complicated. It’s also my fault.”
Kiera didn’t push. Just pressed her shoulder to mine in solidarity.
“He—I told him something,” I said. “Something I should’ve told him a long time ago.”
Kiera nodded but stayed quiet.
I swallowed the cookie that had turned to dry cement in my mouth.
“I was pregnant when I left Star Falls. I miscarried a few days later.” I hadn’t planned on saying it.
Not yet. But the words had clawed their way out of me, raw and too loud, and now they just…
hung there. My hands trembled, so I pressed them to my thighs to make them stop.
Kiera’s breath caught. Her hand curled around mine, tight.
I tried to smile, but it wobbled. “So yeah. That happened, and I kept it to myself.”
“Oh, honey. Why?”
I shrugged. “I guess because I didn’t know how to talk about it without falling apart.”
“You were so young.” She held on to my hand, probably in case I turned into a flight risk. “I know it’s not the same, our losses, but I understand.”
My eyes welled. Kiera had lost the love of her life. “Loss is loss,” I whispered. It was disorientating how quickly joy could turn into memory, and memory into pain. But I wasn’t running, not this time.
Kiera slapped at her pockets and came up with a few tissues. She handed me one and blew her nose with the other. “How did Tucker handle it?”
“He was…” I tried to find the words. “Tucker. Stoic and calm. He was worried about me, concerned that I’d gone through it alone.” I hesitated. “I didn’t want to tell him. I knew, even all these years later, it would hurt him.”
“You did the right thing,” Kiera said fiercely.
“He deserved to know. You weren’t protecting him by keeping it in.
You were just carrying the weight alone.
And that’s one thing he never wanted for you.
He’s the strongest of all of us. He’ll shoulder this gladly, because he’ll see it as a lessening of the burden on you.
He’d rather carry that pain than let you carry it alone.
” She met my gaze. “He’d do anything for you, Hazel. I hope you believe that.”
I let out a breath. “I’m starting to. I just don’t know what to do with it. Even thinking about opening my heart…” I shook my head.
She nodded. “I understand that too.”
And she did, down to her bones.
Miguel and Hawk walked by, each carrying sheets of drywall, biceps straining. Hawk nodded in greeting and kept moving.
Miguel set down the drywall. “Hazel.” He smiled in my direction, but when he looked at Kiera, he turned the charisma up a thousand watts. “Hey, Key. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Kiera smiled, all flirty.
I nearly choked on my cookie. Was I hallucinating?
“Risking your life again?” she asked him.
Miguel grinned. “Now’s our chance. Run away with me, gorgeous.”
She made a show of checking her calendar. “Sorry, I have a hair appointment this afternoon.”
He laughed. “Then dinner. Have dinner with me.”
Kiera bit her lower lip like she was actually thinking about it. Then she said, “What about your bossy boss and his no-fraternization rules?”
Miguel shrugged. “He’ll get over it. You and me? We’re the real deal.”
Kiera’s cool demeanor slipped slightly, but she recovered quickly. “You know I’ve got two wild wolf pups at home, which means it’s never just me. No one wants to have dinner with my circus.”
His smile softened. “Then I’ll bring dinner to you and the pups. Circus and all.”
Kiera eyed him for a long moment.
He withstood the scrutiny with his usual laid-back smile.
Finally, she shook her head. “I’m sure I’m going to regret this, but I’m calling your bluff. You’re on. Don’t forget dessert.”
Miguel, always confident, always with the swagger and an easy grin, blinked like she’d just short-circuited his brain.
But he recovered quickly, a slow smile spreading.
“I never forget dessert.” He hoisted the drywall back onto his shoulder with ease, nodded at me, then sauntered off like a man who’d just won the lotto.
I turned slowly, eyebrows halfway to my hairline. “Was that you…flirting?”
“Please. If I were flirting, there’d be fireworks and fainting goats.”
“Uh-huh.” I bumped her shoulder with mine. “You realize you just said yes to a date, right?”
“Oh shit.” She exhaled a shaky breath and watched Miguel’s retreating back. “I did.” She drew a deep breath. “Apparently I’m ready.”
I smiled. “Ready looks good on you.”
We munched on cookies, feeling the breeze flowing through the wide-open framing. “Do you want me to babysit tonight?” I asked.
“You seriously want to babysit the small humans who think farts are a second language?”
I grinned. “They’re adorable.”
“Thank you.” She smiled in agreement. “But for this one, I want to make sure I’m not wasting my time.”
“You mean you want him to see your real world and not bolt for the hills.”
“Maybe. Yes.” With a laugh, she laid her head on my shoulder. “I missed you being around so much. No one else appreciates my sarcasm or tells my brothers to shove it with so much finesse. Do you know you’re wearing two different kinds of socks?”
“It’s laundry day. I’m also not wearing undies.”
It was Kiera’s turn to choke as she left.