Chapter 10
TEN
SCARLETT
The bonfire at the clubhouse is roaring high tonight, casting flickering orange light across the lot.
Loud rock music thumps from the speakers near the bar, and the air smells like woodsmoke, beer, and grilled meat.
Almost the entire club is here, patched members, old ladies, prospects, and a handful of kids running around with sparklers.
Laughter and loud voices fill the night.
I’m sitting in one of the old Adirondack chairs a little ways back from the fire, knees drawn up, staring into the flames. It’s been a week since the charity event, and my mind still won’t settle.
I got a job offer today. A real one. Ryan Caldwell called me this afternoon.
He’s a real estate agent, one of the bigger ones in the area, and he wants me to come work for him as an events and client relations coordinator.
Good pay. Benefits. A chance to plan open houses, client appreciation parties, and charity galas for his firm.
Basically doing what I did last week, but for his real estate business.
I should be excited. Instead I feel… stuck.
I take a slow breath and rub my temples. Part of me wants it. The other part wonders if it would just be another version of what I did with Ethan, building someone else’s dream instead of my own.
The chair beside me creaks as someone sits down. I don’t have to look to know who it is. I can feel him.
Rook hands me a cold beer without saying anything. I take it, knock the neck of my bottle against his, and take a long sip. The cold liquid feels good going down.
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
He nods, leaning back in his chair. For a while we just sit there in silence, watching the fire crackle and sparks float up into the dark sky. The music pulses in the background, but it feels far away.
“You’ve been quiet since the charity event,” he says eventually, voice low. “Everything okay?”
I manage a small smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
He takes a sip of his beer and waits.
“I got a job offer today,” I say before I can overthink it.
Rook turns his head toward me. “Yeah?”
“Ryan Caldwell. The real estate guy from the event last week. He wants me to work for him as an events and client relations coordinator.” I pick at the label on my beer bottle.
“Good money. Benefits. I’d be planning open houses, client parties, charity stuff for his firm.
Basically doing what I did at the fundraiser, but for his business. ”
Rook is quiet for a moment. “You thinking about taking it?”
“I don’t know.” I let out a long breath. “Part of me wants to. It feels like something I’m actually good at. But another part of me wonders if I’d just be doing the same thing I did with Ethan.”
Rook nods slowly, like he’s really listening. “What would you want to do instead?”
I stare into the fire. The wood pops and sends a shower of sparks upward.
“I wish there was a job where I could do what I did with the charity event,” I admit. “Something where I could help the club, or local causes, or families who need it. Not just another corporate thing.”
Rook takes another sip of his beer. “Why don’t you become an event coordinator on your own? Freelance. Do charity runs, club events, weddings, whatever. Jackson could use someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
I blink at him. “I don’t know… do you think there’s a need for that here in Jackson?”
He shrugs, but his eyes are steady on me. “After last week? Hell yeah. You saw how many people showed up. How much money we raised. You made it look easy. People remember that. Word will spread.”
I chew on my lip, turning the idea over. It feels scary. Exciting. Possible.
“I’d have to build it from scratch,” I say. “Find clients, handle my own taxes, everything.”
“You’ve handled worse,” he replies simply. “And you wouldn’t be doing it alone. The club would back you. I’d back you.”
The words hang between us. Not flirty. Not pushing. Just honest.
I look at him for a long moment. The firelight makes his eyes look softer than usual.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For saying that.”
He nods once, then looks back at the fire. “You deserve to do something that makes you happy, Scarlett. Not just something that pays the bills.”
I glance over at him. The firelight dances across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve. He looks tired but relaxed in a way he rarely does around me lately.
“How are you doing?” I ask softly. “I mean… with everything. The club, the Kings, all of it. You’ve been going nonstop too.”
Rook takes a slow sip of his beer, considering the question. “I’m alright. Busy keeps my head on straight.”
I nod, then tilt my head curiously. “What do you do when you’re not working for the club? I mean… outside of runs and club stuff.”
He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s deciding whether to answer. Then he gives a small, almost sheepish shrug.
“When I get the chance, I like to get out on the water. Paddle boarding, mostly. There’s this spring about an hour from here that’s pretty quiet. Crystal clear, barely any current in places. Helps clear my head.”
I blink at him, genuinely surprised. “Paddle boarding?” A soft laugh escapes me. “I never would have guessed that.”
He shrugs again, the corner of his mouth twitching. “What, you think I just sit around the clubhouse drinking beer and glaring at people all day?”
“Kind of, yeah,” I tease.
Rook laughs low, the sound warm. “Fair enough.” He takes another sip of his beer, then continues, voice a little quieter.
“It’s peaceful out there. No noise. No people expecting shit from me.
Just the water, the board, and my own thoughts.
After everything I’ve seen… after the Army, after patching in…
it’s the one place I can actually breathe. ”
I watch the firelight play across his face as he talks. There’s something vulnerable in the way he says it, like he doesn’t share this part of himself often.
“That sounds nice,” I say softly.
He looks over at me. “You should go sometime.”
I raise an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Are you inviting me?”
Rook meets my eyes, steady and serious. “I’ll take you out if you want me to.”
My stomach does a little flip. “Okay,” I say, the words slipping out before I can overthink them. “It’s a date… I mean, it’s a plan.”
He doesn’t call me on the slip. Instead he gives me that small smirk again. “When do you want to go?”
“I’m heading out tomorrow,” he says. “There’s a spring about a four-hour paddle down the river. You think you can handle that?”
I raise an eyebrow, a challenge in my voice. “Do you have an extra board? I don’t have anything.”
Rook’s eyes soften, and for a second the firelight makes him look almost gentle. “I got you, Princess.”
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Don’t call me that.”
“Too late,” he replies, the smirk deepening.
The next morning, Rook shows up at my house in his truck.
I’m standing on the front porch in my black bikini under a loose tank top and shorts, flip flops on my feet, when I hear the rumble of his engine.
He pulls up the driveway and parks. He’s wearing board shorts and a faded black t-shirt.
He looks… different. More relaxed. Less like the hardened club enforcer and more like a guy who actually knows how to take a day off.
I walk down the steps and climb into the passenger seat. The cab smells amazing, fresh coffee and warm food. Two cups sit in the center console, one hot, one iced. A paper bag rests on the seat between us.
“Is that breakfast?” I ask, surprised.
“Obviously,” Rook replies, starting the engine. “Iced coffee for you. Hot for me. Egg and bacon sandwiches in the bag.”
I smile, genuinely touched. “Thank you. That’s really nice.”
I reach into the bag, hand him one of the wrapped sandwiches, and take the other for myself.
We eat as he pulls out of the driveway. The ride is peaceful, windows down, warm wind blowing through the cab.
Soft rock plays low on the radio. We don’t talk much at first, just enjoying the food and the open road.
I take a long sip and let out a happy sigh. The iced coffee is perfect, cold, sweet, and strong. Just the way I like it.
“Good?” he asks, glancing over with a small smirk.
“So good,” I admit. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Figured you’d need fuel for the paddle. It’s a long one.”
We finish eating and settle into comfortable silence.
The road winds through thick woods and past open fields, the morning sun filtering through the trees.
Every now and then one of us points out something, a deer in a field, a hawk circling overhead, but mostly we just listen to the music and let the quiet sit between us.
It feels nice and easy. We’re just two people hanging out, nothing more, nothing less.
About an hour later we reach the put-in spot by the spring. The water is impossibly clear, turquoise in places, with gentle ripples catching the light. “It's beautiful out here,” I murmur, looking around as Rook parks and cuts the engine.
He nods. “Yeah, it’s one of my favorite spots.”
Rook unloads two paddle boards from the truck bed. One is clearly his, worn, dark, well-used. The other is brand new, bright teal with a pink stripe, still shiny and clean.
I stare at it. “Did you buy me a brand new board?”
He shrugs, almost bashful. “You needed one.”
I laugh softly. “Thank you, Rook. That’s… really sweet.”
He reaches behind his neck, grabs the collar of his t-shirt, and pulls it off in one smooth motion, tossing it into the bed.