Chapter 7 #3
“Are you guys having some man time?” She licked a dollop of foam clinging to her lip and Tate had to look away.
“Just for a few more minutes,” Luke said. “Then we’re headed over to the café to get ready for that scene you all are filming with Tisha.”
“What scene?” Tate asked.
“Oh, um—” Scottie bit her lip, glanced at Luke.
Luke dropped his voice. “Wait. Is it a secret?”
“No,” Scottie said, laughing. “Who could possibly keep that under wraps around here? We, um—well, we have enough extras, you know? I don’t want Tabitha, Damian’s poor PA, to have to wrangle more folks.”
“What’s a PA?” Tate asked.
“Production assistant. Tabitha does Damian’s bidding. Although, to be honest, he’s a great guy to work for.”
“What are you filming at the café?” Ethan crumpled his empty parchment-paper wrapper. “Tisha tried to fill me in, but Sadie had about a dozen questions, so I didn’t quite get the scoop.”
“The contestants picked the berries, so now we’re having them bring what they gathered over to the café, and I’ll film a quick scene with Tisha. She’ll accept the berries and then bake pies. But word sort of got out, and now it’s evolved into something much bigger.”
“What does that mean?”
“Extras in every booth. The Binfords are serving dessert. Damian wants more of a local flair. It’s going to be great.” She gave him a quick smile. “I’m sure we can make space for you.”
Tate frowned. “I thought you said you had enough extras.”
“Well, obviously there’s room for McGuires. You’re like family, right?” She set down her drink and pulled her phone from her back pocket. “Ooh, rats. I’d love to stay and talk, but I’ve got to jet. Good to see you.”
“Yeah, you too.”
She grabbed her drink and hurried toward the door.
Luke elbowed him. “If there’s something you need to say to her, why don’t you go say it?”
“She said she had to go.”
Luke smirked. “You’re gonna let her walk over there alone? What if Theo sees her? Or that yacht guy?”
“All right, all right.” Tate left his half-finished burrito and coffee on the counter and shouldered through the knot of people coming inside. He caught the door with his palm before it swung shut.
Outside, the cool morning air wrapped around him. A young couple sat at one of the wrought-iron tables beside the building. Two huskies on leashes sat at their feet.
Tate jogged after her. “Scottie, hey, wait up.”
She stopped and turned around. “What’s up?”
“Are you walking back to the café?”
“It’s only a couple blocks.”
“Yeah, but your food’s going to get cold. I thought maybe…you’d want to sit down for a minute.”
Her smile softened. “You know what? You’re right. I need to take a few minutes for myself. Frankly, I’m exhausted. Yesterday was rough, and today will be hectic. Then we’re up early tomorrow. Damian wants everyone out at Chitina, fishing the Copper River.”
“No,” Tate said flatly.
She nodded. “Yep.”
“That’s insane.”
“Makes for good television.” She started walking again.
“Here, look.” He gestured toward an empty wrought-iron table behind them. “Want to sit there?”
“Sure. For a couple of minutes.”
They sat. She unwrapped her toasted bagel loaded with cream cheese. Tate rubbed his clammy palms against his jeans. Philip’s wisdom echoed in his head.
Your caring isn’t the issue so much as your fear.
“Scottie, listen. About last Friday, at the resort when I was chopping wood…” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I feel like I was rude. Not feel—I was rude. You were right.”
She cupped a hand over her ear and leaned closer. “I was what?”
“You were right. I was really grumpy. Out of line. I’ll do better.”
“It’s fine. I get it. Emotions and touchy-feely stuff have never really been your thing.”
“Is it that obvious?”
She tipped her head back and laughed. The sound hit him square in the chest. He couldn’t stop staring at the line of her neck, the glimpse of collarbone where her top button hung open.
Pull it together, man.
He wanted to pour out everything on his mind. That he’d been in love with her since high school. That he wanted her here, in his life, for good. But the words stayed stuck in his throat.
She’d already said she wanted New Zealand. And he couldn’t follow her there. Couldn’t leave Redemption.
“It’s nice to see you again,” she said, wrapping up her bagel. “I’ve really gotta go. Come to the café if you want to see what we’re up to. Or if you want to be an extra.”
“No, thanks. Not really my scene.”
“Oh.” Her brows lifted. “You’re serious. All right. Well…thanks for apologizing. All is forgiven.” She stood, gave him one last smile, and left.
Tate stayed on the bench, stomach in knots. He’d managed to apologize, but the words that really mattered were still locked inside him. Unspoken. I don’t want you to leave again.
He knew how to work, how to build, how to fix.
But when it came to emotions—when it came to Scottie—he was useless.
He couldn’t give voice to the things clawing inside his chest. Couldn’t risk scaring her off.
Because what if he lost her all over again by saying too much?
He’d never figure out how to come back from that.