Chapter 20
Cleo POV
It’s been four days, since the clubhouse, since Peaches said something I can’t stop thinking about. Four days since Gabe quietly told everyone he’d found his woman.
Four days when things should have felt settled, but instead, something felt off. Not broken or wrong, just different.
I’ve been in Creek Wood for six months now. It’s been ten months since Wade died.
Six months ago, I packed up my kids, my grief, and what was left of our lives. We drove into a town I’d never heard of and stumbled into a new family.
I should have felt secure, but I kept watching Gabe every time he walked in, and that annoyed me most, because I wasn’t worried about Peaches.
I wasn’t eighteen or na?ve. I definitely wasn’t interested in competing with women from Gabe’s past.
Gabe was forty-three, attractive, and respected. Of course he’d been with other women before me.
That wasn’t the problem. The real problem was the little voice in my head asking questions I didn’t want to face.
What if he changed his mind? What if things were easier before? What if one day he woke up and decided I wasn’t worth it?
I hated that voice. It sounded just like every insecurity I’d tried to bury for years.
I stared at the stack of spelling tests on my desk, red pen hovering over the page. My mind was far from schoolwork. Honestly, it wasn’t Peaches’ words that hurt most.
It was Gabe’s silence after. Not total silence, that would have been easier. He still came by, talked to Tommy, asked Skylar about her drawings, greeted me, and smiled, but he didn’t linger anymore, he didn’t sit beside me or seek me out.
The little moments I’d gotten used to had quietly disappeared and the worst part?
I wasn’t even sure if I was imagining it.
----
“Mom?”
I blinked. Tommy stood next to the table, looking concerned.
“Why are you staring at the same paper?”
I looked down. The same spelling test sat untouched in front of me.
Whoops.
“I was thinking.”
Tommy nodded seriously. “Do I need to get Grandma? She is good at these talks.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Probably.”
Skylar looked up from her sketchbook, her eyes narrowing a little. She was too observant. Way too observant.
“You’re worried.”
I pointed my pen at her. “You’re grounded.”
She smiled, really smiled. That little brat.
“You can’t ground me for being right.”
Unfortunately, I couldn’t argue with her.
----
The next afternoon, I stopped by the clubhouse after school. Tommy disappeared right away, and Lola followed soon after. Those two were inseparable lately. Dad was outside helping one of the brothers with something mechanical, and Mom was in the kitchen.
The smell of fresh coffee drifted through the building. Everything felt familiar now.
It felt comfortable. Like home.
Mom glanced up as I walked in. She took one look at my face and sighed. That was never a good sign.
“What?” I asked.
She poured coffee into a mug. “Nothing.”
That was a lie. I knew that tone. “Mom.”
She handed me the mug. “Cleo.”
I narrowed my eyes. She smiled. She could be dangerous. “You’ve been overthinking.”
I bristled right away. “I have not.”
Mom just gave me a long look. The kind mothers have perfected over the years.
I sighed. “Maybe a little.”
“A little?” She lifted her eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes. Mom leaned against the counter and said softly, “Sweetheart, I’ve known that man for years.”
My stomach tightened. Of course, we were talking about Gabe.
“Mom...”
“Listen.” And I did. “He’s scared.”
I blinked. That wasn’t what I’d expected. “What?”
Mom nodded.
“Scared.” I stared at her. Because that didn’t make any sense. “Of me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Mom’s expression softened immediately. “Oh, honey.”
That answer alone told me enough. Not of me, but something else, something bigger.
Before I could ask another question, Tommy came running through the clubhouse yelling about bikes and dinosaurs. Somehow, that turned into a ten-minute conversation with Dad, and just like that, the moment passed.
Leaving me with more questions than answers.
----
Chains POV
I was an idiot. That wasn’t news. The problem was now other people knew it too. I sat outside the garage, staring at nothing. A wrench rested forgotten in my hand, the bike in front of me hadn’t been touched in twenty minutes.
Maybe thirty. Who knew. My brain wasn’t on bikes today. It was stuck on one stubborn teacher with too much courage and not enough self-preservation.
Four days! Four damn days, and I’d managed to become exactly what she was afraid of.
Distance. Silence. Uncertainty.
Nice work, Mercer.
The worst part? I never meant to. Not once. Peaches wasn’t completely wrong, and that was the problem. Years ago, she would have been right. I didn’t do relationships, forever, or families. I didn’t do any of it.
Then Cleo happened, Tommy, Skylar, and somewhere along the way, everything changed. I just hadn’t realized how much until now.
“You’re staring at a bike.” Roman’s voice cut through my thoughts. I didn’t look up.
“Go away.”
“No.” Of course not. He dropped into the chair beside me. Silent for a minute.
Then he said, “You know she’s miserable, right?”
I closed my eyes. For fuck’s sake.
“Rage.”
“No.”
I sighed. Rage ignored me. As usual.
“You’ve spent six months watching that woman.”
Silence.
“You know Tommy’s favorite ice cream.”
I frowned. Everyone knew Tommy’s favorite ice cream.
“Chocolate fudge.”
Rage pointed at me. “Exactly.”
I hated where this was going. “You know Skylar likes those fancy sketch pencils.”
Damn it.
“You know Cleo puts too much sugar in her coffee.” I glared.
Rage grinned.
The bastard. He leaned back, crossed his arms, and finally said what I didn’t want to hear.
“Brother, that ain’t interest anymore.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Because for the first time, I couldn’t argue. I couldn’t dismiss it or explain it away. My mind filled with images: Tommy laughing. Skylar, showing me another drawing. Cleo smiling, angry, laughing, sitting beside me.
Cleo, Skylar, and Tommy are my future.
The realization hit me so hard it took my breath away. Not just attraction or wanting.
Love. Jesus Christ.
I loved her, and somehow, that wasn’t even the hardest part because I loved those kids too. The whole package, a future, a possibility.
I wanted all of it, and suddenly I understood why I’d been pulling away. Losing all of that would destroy me.
Rage watched as it hit me. His expression softened, just a little.
“You done being stupid?”
I rubbed both hands across my face.
“Maybe.”
“Good.”
Silence settled. Then Rage stood. “You know you’re screwing this up, right?”
I sighed.
“Yeah.”
“You gonna fix it?”
I looked toward the mountains, toward the road to Cleo’s house. Suddenly, I was terrified of losing everything.
And for the first time all week, I knew exactly what I needed to do.
----
Cleo POV
The house was quiet, for once. Tommy finally fell asleep after spending twenty minutes explaining why Grandpa needed flames on his bike. Skylar disappeared upstairs with her sketchbook under her arm, and I sat alone on the porch swing, trying hard not to think, but I was failing.
The evening air was cool, the mountains stretched dark against the night sky. Normally, I loved this time of day. Tonight, my thoughts wouldn’t settle.
Mom’s words kept replaying in my head.
He’s scared.
Gabe’s distance over the last few days replayed in my mind, too. Back and forth, round and round, until I was sick of my own thoughts.
Headlights appeared at the end of the driveway. I froze, not because I didn’t recognize the truck, because I did.
My heart betrayed me instantly. The engine cut. Silence settled over the cottage once more. For a moment, nothing happened, then the driver’s door opened.
Gabe stepped out.
The porch light caught the familiar lines of his face, broad shoulders, steady walk.
My stomach twisted, not with fear, but with hope, which was somehow worse. I watched him make his way across the yard and up the porch steps. Neither of us spoke.
He stopped beside the swing, for a second, I thought he might stay standing. Instead, he lowered himself onto the seat beside me. Just like he had a hundred times before. Not touching, not crowding.
Just there.
And somehow that simple act hurt more than his distance had because it reminded me how much I’d missed it.
The porch creaked softly beneath us, the night stretched around us, and several long seconds passed.
Gabe rubbed a hand across his jaw, exhaled slowly, and finally looked at me. Really looked at me, and his expression was serious.
Determined, a little nervous, which surprised me more than anything. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, certain.
“We need to talk.”
And for the first time all week, I was glad he’d finally said it.