Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
FOSTER
Iwas in a shit mood.
“You’re in a shit mood.” Jasper’s voice filled the cab of my truck.
“I’m a ray of goddamn sunshine compared to yesterday.” Or the day before that. Or the day before that.
In the three days since I’d stormed out of Talia’s house, I’d worn a permanent scowl.
“Take it things with your girl aren’t going well,” Jasper said.
“Something like that,” I muttered.
I’d told her I was leaving, but that had been an angry declaration in the heat of the moment. No way in hell was I leaving Quincy. Not after all that I’d been through just to get here.
Not after that kiss.
“I pushed too hard.” My hands relaxed on the wheel as I drove into town.
It was the realization I’d come to after fuming for the last three days. I’d bulldozed into Talia’s life, and instead of giving her time to absorb the shock, I’d just applied more pressure.
I was pushing myself just as hard because of what was coming—of who was coming. The calendar was advancing too fast.
“She’s angry,” I told Jasper.
“Can’t blame her for that.”
No, I couldn’t blame Talia. “I’ve got to get her to remember what we had.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Hell if I know.” I scoffed. “Any ideas?”
“You’ve got to be really desperate if you’re asking me for advice with women.”
I chuckled. “This is true.”
Jasper and I had known each other for years. He’d started coming to the gym about a year after Talia had left. He was a good fighter and sparring partner, but where he excelled was in training. No person on earth pushed me the way Jasper pushed. Hiring him had been a no-brainer.
But when it came to women, Jasper was more the love ’em and leave ’em type.
He’d been married for a short time in his early twenties, before we’d met.
He didn’t talk about his ex. He didn’t talk about why they’d gotten divorced.
But whatever had happened had made him shy away from anything that resembled a relationship.
Jasper’s biggest commitment was to my career.
“How’s the gym?” Jasper asked.
“It’s coming along. The ring showed up this morning.” The delivery crew had hauled it into the open space of the gym and set it up. I’d ordered it the day I’d bought the building and had paid a small fortune to have it expedited, considering their normal turnaround time was three months.
The open space at the gym was now filled. The mats had shown up yesterday along with the heavy bags. The treadmill was coming tomorrow. My list of shit to do was dwindling.
Soon, I’d be able to focus on prep for this fight in March.
“It’s only been eleven days,” Jasper said.
“Really?” Eleven? I did the math in my head. “Seems like longer.”
“Probably because you haven’t been sleeping. Am I right?”
“Maybe.”
Sleep had been a luxury. There was simply too much work to be done. But the interior of the gym was now painted. Goodbye orange wall. I’d hauled away the rest of the garbage and the dumpster was no longer out front. The apartment was clear and would serve as home for a while.
I’d busted my ass to get it done in time.
“What’s next?” he asked.
I sighed, stopping at the intersection before turning down Main Street. “Couple more days to finish up. I need to clean again. Stock the fridge.”
A new washer and dryer had been installed along with the refrigerator. The lack of sleep, the backbreaking days, had been worth it.
“The exterior needs to be repainted and most of the windows will have to be replaced sooner rather than later. But it’s good enough until spring.” I yawned.
“Get some rest,” Jasper said. “You’re no good to me if you’re dead on your feet.”
“Will do, boss. See you soon.”
“Bye.”
Jasper would be here next week, ready to whip my ass into fighting shape.
I tossed my phone into the passenger seat, then pulled into a parking space outside the coffee shop.
The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue. The afternoon sun reflected off the Christmas garlands strung above the road. Two men, each on a ladder, were unwrapping the pine-bow garlands twined around the lampposts.
Restaurants, offices and retail shops lined both sides of Main.
The Eloise Inn, the tallest building in town, had a large wreath on its brick facade that would probably come down soon.
And at the jewelry store next door to the coffee shop, a woman was removing the red and green ornaments from the winter wonderland scene in her window.
I’d miss the holiday decorations. Hopefully I’d be here next year to see them again.
After shutting off the truck, I pushed outside and was hit by a blast of cool, pine-laced mountain air. My mood instantly improved.
“Nice day, isn’t it?” The man parked beside my truck dipped his chin as he unlocked the door to his SUV.
“Sure is.” I nodded back, then stepped onto the sidewalk, filling my lungs with that fresh air as I zipped my coat up higher.
Sunny as it might be, it was still damn cold. But at least the view didn’t disappoint. If I had to give up the rocky and arid mountains of the Mojave, I couldn’t think of a better replacement than the towering indigo peaks with white caps that surrounded Quincy.
The snow had been cleared from the sidewalks, but every roofline was covered in white. It only made the afternoon brighter.
It was hard to be grumpy in downtown Quincy.
A kid’s squeal of laughter caught my ear. I followed the sound to a familiar face.
It was the man I’d seen at the hospital when I’d come to search for Talia. He’d been in the lobby with a pregnant woman, probably his wife.
He carried a little boy with rosy cheeks. Both were wearing matching black beanies.
The boy had on a pair of boots, snow pants and a bright green coat. He squirmed to be set down, and the moment those boots hit the pavement, he was off, running for the same destination as mine.
Eden Coffee.
I’d run out of coffee at the gym, and after yawning for the tenth time in a row, I’d decided to swing into town. But instead of the grocery store, I’d come here. Talia’s sister had a hell of a display case of pastries and my stomach growled.
The man smiled at his kid, opening the door so they could both walk inside.
Who was he? There was more familiar about him than just the run-in at the hospital.
I strode toward the green building.
Eden Coffee was written in gold letters on the shop’s door. There was a bit of frost and fog around the edges of the black-paned windows. A chalkboard sandwich sign was out front and someone had written the daily specials—snickerdoodle latte and a cranberry bagel—in white block letters.
Aromatic coffee and sweet vanilla greeted me when I went inside, a bell jingling over my head.
The first time I’d come here, while I’d been staying at The Eloise, I’d expected something Western.
Rustic. But the walls were painted the same green as the outside of the building.
It had a trendy and modern vibe, not unlike a hip cafe you’d find in a city.
Wooden tables and chairs lined the walls, a few occupied this afternoon.
The man and the little boy were at the counter. The kid was pressed against the glass display case, his mittens keeping him from leaving fingerprints as the beanie was plucked off his head, revealing a static mess of blond hair.
Cute kid.
“Hey.” Lyla rushed out from around the back, rounding the corner. She wore a green apron with a dusting of flour on the front. The same flour was on her nose.
Even though they were twins, any fool could tell her and Talia apart.
Or maybe I’d just been a fool over Talia for far too long.
“How’s my little Drake today?” Lyla picked up the kid and kissed his cheek. “Want Auntie to make you something special?”
Wait. Auntie? So that man had to be—
Hell. How could I have missed it? That had to be Talia’s brother. Griffin or Knox. I’d never met either of them before, but Talia had shown me pictures ages ago. Except he hadn’t had a beard in the photos. They’d all been younger.
But he had the same dark brown hair as Talia. And as he smiled at his son, the same bright blue eyes crinkled. He resembled Harrison too.
Maybe I should have hit the grocery store. I wasn’t sure I had the energy to deal with an angry older brother.
Except it would happen eventually, so I squared my shoulders and moved away from the door. Last time I’d been in, Lyla had been busy. I’d only spoken to the guy for a short minute at the hospital.
Guess I had to consider myself lucky that he hadn’t interrogated me that day. Or punched me in the face. For what I’d done to Talia, I deserved two black eyes.
But this was inevitable. I wanted her, and I’d have to prove to everyone I was worthy. That this time was different. And since the past three days had sucked, I might as well add this on.
My mood couldn’t get a lot worse.
My boots thudded on the floor, drawing attention from the Edens.
Lyla smiled and handed the boy—Drake—to his dad. “Hi. Welcome in. What can I get for you?”
There was nothing but an honest question in her gaze. No glare or contempt. Nothing that said she’d be spitting in my coffee.
Okay. “Americano, please. Double.”
“For here or to go?”
I gave her a sideways glance. That was it? She’d just take my order? “Uh . . . to go.”
“You got it.” She nodded and rounded the counter, immediately getting to work.
“You’re Foster Madden.” The man shifted the kid to one side so he could hold out a hand. “I saw you at the hospital the other day.”
“Yeah.” I braced as I shook his hand. Here we go.
“Knox Eden. Nice to meet you. I’m a fan.”
A fan? “Oh, um, thanks?”
“Watched your fight last summer.” Knox chuckled. “Was pretty glad when you won. Couldn’t stand the other guy.”
The fight where I’d knocked out my opponent, a loudmouth asshole from LA, in the first round. “Yeah, he’s something.”
“Didn’t seem to teach him much. I saw him in an interview a while back, still running his mouth about a rematch.”
He wanted to talk about the fight? Seriously?