Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
Greyson
I’d put it off long enough. It was time to deal with Keegan.
I was still riding the high of Nash and Stephanie’s wedding and spending time with friends in Spokane for a few days. It’d been good to see Gabe, Ben, and Nash’s best friends, Emmett and Ryan, again.
And I’d been putting this phone call off for most of the summer. Now there were no excuses. That conversation on the couch with Paisley last week had solidified things for me. I knew where I wanted to be in life, and I was there. I had the woman of my dreams, and we were building a life together.
Hardships and all. I wasn’t about to give it up.
Fishing the phone out of my pocket, I stepped out onto the back porch and dialed.
“Grey, my man, it’s about time!” Keegan’s voice grated my nerves, and clarity hit me. Yeah, there is no way I could handle him as my boss.
“Keegan.” I cleared my throat. “Is now a bad time?”
“Nah. Especially if you make my day by coming out here.” He sounded so confident. Like my refusal never really occurred to him. Looked like I was about to ruin his day.
“Paisley and I have discussed it, and it’s not going to be a good fit for us.”
The line was quiet for a moment. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not.”
Keegan swore. “You’d give up all this for a woman?”
“That woman is my wife,” I growled. “And I’m not giving anything up. I have a life here. A life I’m happy with.”
“This from the guy who never wanted to go home because he was too busy playing the hero.” Keegan scoffed. “You were the adventure junkie, man. What happened to you?”
“I got shot.”
That shut him up. He and Rhys had both been on that mission with me and Liam.
“I appreciate the offer, and I wish you all the best. But my life is here.”
Keegan huffed. “Good luck with that. Love makes men fools, but whatever. Rhys knew you didn’t have the guts for it. Have a good life, Grey.” And he hung up.
I groaned. At least it was over with. Rhys had been far more understanding when I’d talked to him.
Unlike Keegan, he was a great guy and far more concerned about what was happening with Paisley than whether I’d be taking the job or not.
It had nothing to do with guts, and everything to do with where I was meant to be.
Popping my head inside the screen door, I called, “Pais? I’m heading out to the shop. Need anything?”
“I’m good!” she hollered from . . . somewhere. Rosie offered a woof, and I grinned despite the churning in my stomach. She was in good hands.
In the workshop, the smell of lacquer and pine grounded me in the moment as Keegan’s words rolled over me.
He’d been right. I was an adventure junkie.
Or had been. Getting shot and losing your best friend right in front of you had a man rethinking his priorities.
And a life with Paisley in a small town working with my hands was exactly what I wanted.
She might think she was boring or holding me back, but it was the furthest thing from the truth.
Paisley was my safe place to land after years of trying to outrun my inadequacies.
She made me want to be a better man, but she also loved me for who I was.
I didn’t have to strive to be worthy. I could just be, and I’d been looking for that for a long time.
God had closed the door, and I was okay with that.
The table took shape under my hands, and I nodded in satisfaction when it was finished.
When I finally stepped out of the shop, the sun was significantly lower on the horizon.
The abysmally brown grass—burnt just like the rest of the town this time of year—crunched underfoot as I headed for the house.
I grinned at the sourdough loaf cooling on the counter. Paisley had been busy. And I almost paused to sneak a slice, but I could practically hear her telling me, “It has to cool! Have some patience, Marine.”
Where was she, though? A squeak from down the hall evaporated my good mood, and I hurried towards the library.
My heart tripped over itself and pitched off a cliff at the sight in front of me. Paisley was on the rolling ladder.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.