Chapter 8
Kade
By the time we climbed back into the truck, the sun has dipped low, casting long shadows across the dashboard.
It’s been a full day, we’ve spent hours on the road, visiting sites and attending meetings, but it’s given me the chance to see a different side of Liv.
She’s quiet, sure, reserved by nature, but she showed real interest in everything I walked her through.
She looks tired but not worn out. Content, maybe. I glance over at her more than once, and this time she catches me, offering a soft smile that lingers.
“How’d you find it today?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“I really enjoyed it,” she says. “The sites are impressive. It was great seeing how everything comes together.”
“I’m glad to hear that. You made a good impression, the guys appreciated how engaged you were.”
“Thanks for letting me tag along,” she says, brushing a strand of hair from her face. That’s when I notice a faint smudge of dust on her temple. Part of me wants to reach over and wipe it away. The other part tells me not to cross that line.
“Anytime you feel like a change of scenery, let me know,” I offer. “Honestly, it was nice having company. I spend a lot of time on the road—it gets lonely sometimes.”
Liv shifts slightly in her seat, turning a little toward me. There’s something in her expression like she recognizes that kind of loneliness, too.
Before I can dwell on it, she speaks.
“So, what do you like to do outside of work?”
I glance at her, surprised. It’s the first time she’s initiated conversation—especially something personal—and it throws me for a second.
“Uh, I like to run,” I say, recovering. “I try to get out most mornings before work, though that doesn’t always happen.
I spend a lot of time with my family too.
I know not everyone’s close with theirs, but I’m lucky.
Apart from Brandon being a little uptight sometimes, we all get along.
Dinner at my parents’ place every Saturday is a standing thing. ”
There’s a flicker of something in Liv’s expression—sadness, maybe. It’s there and gone, but I catch it.
“What about you?” I ask, keeping it light. “Any hobbies? Or a weird family I should be worried about?”
“I like to run too,” she says, offering a faint smile. “It quiets my thoughts. Sometimes, with the right playlist or podcast, I could run for hours.”
She starts fiddling with her fingers, her smile slipping.
“I don’t speak to my family.”
I do my best not to react, though it hits me a little. There’s more to it—I can see it in the way her shoulders draw in, like even saying it out loud costs her something. I wonder what the story is, but I don’t push. I’m enjoying this conversation too much to risk her shutting down.
“Sometimes it’s better when we choose our family,” I say after a moment. “Blood doesn’t always mean everything.”
She visibly relaxes, and I know the words landed.
“My best friend Ivy is the closest thing I have to family,” she says. “She’s the loud, confident one out of the two of us. Some would say the bad influence.” She giggles, and the sound is effortlessly light.
“Yeah, we’ve all got one of those,” I grin. “I’ve known Trent since we were kids—where he went, I went, and vice versa. He always found a new way to get us in trouble. Pretty sure we drove our parents and the sheriff crazy. Hell, we probably pissed off half the town.”
Liv laughs with me, unguarded. We spend the rest of the drive talking about everything and nothing. She stays vague when it gets too personal, but that’s fine, this is more than I expected from her today.
I’d braced for the shy, nervous girl from Aubrey’s bakery—the one who looked terrified just walking into the office about the job. But today? She surprised me. There’s more to her than the quiet voice and polite smile. She’s got grit. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
I pull up in front of her house and throw the truck in park. “Home sweet home,” I say lightly.
She unclips her seatbelt but doesn’t move to get out.
“Thanks. It was a good day.”
She says it like she doesn’t get many of those, like saying it out loud proves it really happened. And if that’s the case, I’m glad I got to be part of it.
“It was,” I agree. “Thanks for coming.”
She smiles, softer than before. Our eyes catch, and something flickers between us. Quiet. Real.
I clear my throat and tap the steering wheel. “You should get some rest. You earned it.”
She nods, hand on the door, then pauses.
“See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I say, maybe a little too quickly. “Bright and early.”
She closes the door gently behind her, and I watch her climb the steps before I pull away.
Why do I get the feeling I’m about to steamroll over every warning I’ve gotten lately and end up with a soft spot for this woman?
And why the hell am I grinning like a teenage idiot who finally worked up the nerve to talk to a pretty girl—and didn’t get shot down?
One thing’s for sure:
Today was a good fucking day.
I’m still grinning when I pull into my driveway, headlights sweeping over the gravel. The engine ticks softly as it cools. I don’t get out right away, I just sit there for a second, thinking about the day. About her.
My phone buzzes just as I’m stepping inside.
Brandon.
Of course.
I answer with a tired but satisfied, “Hey.”
“How’d it go?” he asks, skipping the small talk.
“Went well, we toured all the sites, wrapped up with the client meeting. Just got home.”
“And Olivia?” he asks, like that’s what he really called about.
I grab a beer from the fridge and lean against the counter. “She did good. Took everything in. The guys liked her. Trent even said she asked better questions than I usually do.”
Brandon chuckles. “Then maybe bringing her out was a smart move.”
“She surprised me,” I admit. “Thought she’d be overwhelmed, but she held her own.”
“That’s good to hear.” There’s a pause. I can practically hear him debating whether to remind me to keep things professional. After how things ended yesterday, I’m hoping he just lets it go and appreciates that today was a win.
I cut in before he can decide. “I’ll be in tomorrow,” I say, pinning the phone between my shoulder and ear while I dig through the cupboards. “Figured I’d start going through the calendar and work with Liv on project timelines, try and set some realistic expectations for what’s coming up.”
“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” he says. “Good call today.”
“Thanks,” I say. I don’t need his approval, but it’s nice to have it anyway.
Me and Brandon have always been different—he’s more measured, more by-the-book. After Avery’s mom left him, he hardened a little. Not in a cold way, just… guarded. But he’s damn good at what he does. So, when he gives me credit, I take it.
We hang up a few minutes later, but the words linger long after I set the phone down.
The house is quiet while I toss together something half-decent to eat, but my mind’s still running, flashes of today, of her. That quiet curiosity. The way she listened. The way she laughed.
I didn’t expect her to leave an impression. But she did. And something tells me this won’t be the last time.