Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Kate
“What in the hell is he doing here?” Gus bellows through the house loudly enough to rattle the windows. My knife slips off the strawberry I’m slicing and nicks my finger.
For the love… I inhale for a count of four and try to find my calm. So far, this morning is starting off with a bang. Between Vaughn scaring me and Gus’s bellowing, I’m over these Adams men.
“He’s probably trying to have a damn conversation with you,” I gripe as I yank a paper towel from the roll and put pressure on the small cut.
Gus harrumphs and goes to stand guard at the front door like he’s not about to let his own grandson in the house.
“Quit being so rude, Augustus. Let him in,” I say, trying to maintain a gentle tone when I’d rather throttle him.
His color is off. His blood pressure is probably up, given Vaughn’s surprise visit. Why I feel the need to dispel the tension, I can’t say. I should let these two fight it out. But something tells me they’d just yell at each other and never get anything accomplished. Stubborn men.
“Why don’t we all go have a conversation on the porch.”
Without a word, Gus pushes through the door, letting it nearly slam into my face as I follow. Rude.
“Now, you can be mad as hell at me, and you can be frustrated at her too, but don’t be fucking rude about it,” Vaughn calls as he crosses the yard. Is that charming? Am I touched in this weird, volatile moment? I think maybe I am.
“And you watch your god damn mouth, boy,” Gus fires back, acting like he’s going to barrel down the steps.
They face off, Gus at the top of the stairs, Vaughn with hands on his hips at the bottom. And then there’s me. A total outsider, trying to make sure one old man doesn’t shoot his grandson or keel over from a heart attack.
Why am I doing this? Why do I even give a shit? The questions rattle around in my brain.
But I know why. I swallow back my frustrations and assume my peacemaker role. “Come on, you two. Let’s have a chat.”
Gus’s eyes narrow on Vaughn once more before he pushes off the railing and turns to take one of the worn rockers on the front porch.
They’re a little rickety, and I’m afraid they’ll fall apart sooner than later.
Vaughn pauses, then joins us. Naturally, he takes the chair farthest away from Gus, eyeing it like he doesn’t trust it.
Without missing a beat, he grabs the back of the chair and straightens it, moving it out of the artful curved arc I’ve set up and angling it so he has a view of the front drive, plus the fields beyond the barn.
The only reason I even clock the movement is because I’ve seen the guys at the station do an assessment every time we arrive on scene.
It’s hard not to notice the way the denim covering his thighs stretches taut as he lowers to the seat.
He lifts a cup of coffee, and I am momentarily distracted by watching his full lips meet the rim.
“So,” I break the uncomfortable silence. “Vaughn. Tell us what you’ve been doing.”
Both men groan. “I don’t give two shits what he’s been doing,” Gus declares. “I wanna know why in the hell he’s here now?”
I don’t know what’s happened in this family for there to be so much animosity between these two, but I find myself wanting to be a fixer. “Gus. Enough is enough. Put your cantankerous attitude on the shelf for a hot minute.”
He glowers at me, but I’m too used to that glower to let it faze me.
“Just give him a chance.”
“Whatever.” It sounds so similar to the way Vaughn voiced the same word earlier, I have to smother a smile.
“I just retired from the military and moved to Bali and started a business.”
Gus doesn’t want to seem interested, but he perked up as soon as Vaughn started talking.
“What branch of the military? What kind of business? Tell us all the things.”
“Navy. We have a training facility and surf school.”
I swear to god.
These two are the same damn person.
Neither one willing to give more than the bare minimum. “That’s cool. Well. I’m starting fire recruit school next week. Gus went through a period where he kept needing to call 911—”
“Quit telling lies, girl,” Gus grumbles from my other side. Color high on his cheeks as he stares out over the farm, avoiding my gaze.
“It’s true, and you know it.” I shoot a glare at him. Schooling a frown, I turn back to Vaughn. “My rent went up on my apartment, which wasn’t great when I’m taking a temporary pay cut for fire recruit school. Gus needs someone with medical skills close by. Win-win for us both.”
“Fire recruit school, huh? Why are you doing that? I thought you were a nurse,” Vaughn says, and for half a heartbeat, I wonder if he’s actually trying to be nice and let Gus off the hook.
I glance over at Vaughn to find his attention on me.
The way this man looks into my eyes, like he’s peering into my soul.
It shakes my foundation and steals every thought from my head.
“Um, yeah.” Way to sound like a dummy. I clear my throat and try again.
“Not a nurse. I’m a paramedic. My partner thinks I’m crazy for wanting my fire certification.
But I’m ready for something new. Tired of running the headache-at-three-a.m. calls.
” I don’t mention how it feels like there’s got to be something more out there for me.
Something that has more meaning and more impact.
Something to take the place of this awful hollowness that’s been eating me alive since—
Gus’s chair creaks as he pushes out of it, thankfully stopping my train of thought before I can completely derail.
Vaughn watches as Gus strolls the length of the porch and heads toward the barn.
“Is he really that bad?” Vaughn’s question is low, like he doesn’t want to be overheard.
I try to imagine all the different emotions he must be feeling—try to put myself in his shoes.
Coming home, especially to such a volatile situation, couldn’t have been easy.
He’s probably nervous and on edge. I certainly would’ve been.
Then he rolls up to find some stranger in his grandpa’s life.
No wonder his demeanor has flipped from making plans to meet again to hostility.
“Sometimes, yes. Other times, I think he was just lonely.” I answer truthfully, trying to dispel his misgivings but also not sugarcoat the situation. “I know you think differently, but I’m not some gold digger. I do care about Gus. I only want what’s best for him.”
That chiseled jaw of his flexes like he’s chewing on the words, and I wait with bated breath for his response—one that never comes.
I swallow a sigh, pushing down any flicker of hope for forging something more than animosity between us.
I’m done trying to please this man. He can make up his own mind.