Chapter 6 #2
I can’t help but laugh as she shuffles off to the living room, where Knox is still fussing over the cat like he’s the one who’s had a rough day.
Meanwhile, Lucy is already on top of everything with graceful movements, like she’s done this a thousand times before.
I watch her for a second, appreciating the calm energy she exudes, and then our eyes meet. She flashes me an easy smile.
“What can I do to help?” I ask. I’m trying to sound like I’ve got my life together, but let’s be real, I’m just here to follow directions.
She eyes the ingredients, tying an apron around her waist. Where did she even get that?
“Would you mind measuring out the sugar and flour? Twenty-five grams of sugar and two-forty of the flour,” she asks, her voice calm as she sets up her own station.
“Uh…translate to American, please.”
She laughs. “Sorry. About two tablespoons of sugar, two cups of flour.”
“That I can manage,” I say, relieved that I’m not about to need a degree in chemistry. I sift through the drawers for the right measuring cups, finding them and getting everything set up for her. This small task is oddly comforting. Focused, simple.
I’m about to ask what else I can do when I hear the familiar rumble of a motorcycle outside.
My stomach does a little flip, the sound instantly bringing Callan to mind.
It’s strange how just a noise can do that, like he’s everywhere and nowhere all at once.
I don’t know if it’s the excitement or just the fact that he’s…
there, but my pulse quickens and the tension from earlier creeps back in.
“So, Bree. How have you been doing?” Lucy asks, her voice light, but I catch the subtle concern behind it.
“Good,” I reply, maybe a little too quickly.
“Good?” She raises an eyebrow. “You sure? Not that I’m trying to pry.”
My smile falters for a second, but I quickly mask it. “I’m fine, really. I’m guessing you talked to Callan?”
She nods. “Aye, I could tell he was worried about something, so I asked. He didn’t tell me specifics, just that you might like to talk to someone at some point.”
Her eyes drop down to my hand where I’m pulling at my shirt sleeve again, then back up to meet my gaze. “You don’t have to talk about it,” she says gently. “Just know I’m here, if you ever need to.”
I give her a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Lucy. Maybe I’ll take you up on that someday.”
“Whenever you’re ready.” She gives my hand a gentle squeeze as the front door creaks open, signaling Callan’s arrival. She looks over toward the sound, her lips curling into a smile. “Ah, looks like the party’s arrived!”
His voice filters in from the hallway first. Deep, smooth, threaded with that familiar rumble of laughter that always lands low in my stomach. The flutter starts before I can stop it. A quiet little stutter in my chest that shouldn’t mean anything.
My heart kicks, bracing for the awkward tension I’ve been dreading since last night. But then I see him standing there with that easy grin and eyes that look at me like I matter.
And just like that, the knot in my stomach loosens.
Huh.
That’s…interesting.
“Hey, what did I miss?” he asks, glancing between Lucy and me with that trademark half smile of his.
There’s this effortless confidence in the way he stands, like he’s completely at home in his own skin, and it makes him seem so damn…
steady. And for some reason, that steadiness makes my pulse do a funny little dance.
“Oh, just girl talk,” Lucy teases, giving me a knowing look as she lets go of my hand.
I manage to pull off a small smile, trying my best to play it cool, but my pulse? Yeah, that’s still racing like it’s trying to escape my body. “Lucy was just…prying a little.”
Callan’s eyes meet mine, and there’s a hint of concern in them.
“How are you doing?” he asks.
I shrug. “I’m good. Just helping Lucy with dessert.”
He nods, but I can tell he’s not entirely convinced. He glances at Lucy, who’s busying herself with the measuring cups, and then back at me. “Can we talk for a sec?”
My heart skips a beat, but I nod, following him to the door. Just before I step onto the porch, I catch a glimpse of Juliette, her brow furrowed as she gives me a puzzled look, clearly sensing something is off. I force another smile, hoping she doesn’t ask too many questions.
The cool evening air is a welcome relief, and I take a deep breath.
“So, what’s up?” I ask, leaning against the railing.
He runs a hand through his hair, looking out at the yard for a moment before turning to face me. “I just wanted to check in, make sure you’re all right after last night. I know it was a lot.”
I nod, a little too quickly. “Yeah, it was.” I pause, trying to find the right words. “I’m okay, though. Really.”
“Are you sure? Because if you need anything, I’m here. You know that, right?”
I can’t help but smile at that. It’s a genuine one this time, because I do know. And it means more than I can say. “I know. Thank you.”
He nods, satisfied for now. “All right. Just…don’t forget it.”
“I won’t. Pinky promise.”
His presence is more comforting than nerve-wracking now, but I’m still wrestling with the thought of Lucy possibly knowing something’s up.
It’s not that I don’t trust her, it’s just…
this thing with Dillon is still so fresh.
I’m not ready to talk about it yet, not even with someone as sweet and understanding as Lucy.
“We should probably head back inside,” I say, nodding toward the door. “Before they start wondering what we’re up to out here.”
He chuckles, giving me that mischievous look I’ve come to expect from him. “Aye, you’re probably right. Don’t want to give them any ideas.”
I roll my eyes. “Please. As if.”
We head back inside, and I slide back into my spot next to Lucy, who’s now stirring something in a large bowl. She looks over at me with a knowing smile but doesn’t say anything.
Juliette glances up from where she’s sitting with Knox in the living room, a little crease forming between her brows. I catch her eye and offer the smallest smile and a subtle shake of my head that says, I’m okay. Nothing’s wrong. She holds my gaze for a beat longer, then nods.
Callan slides into the bar stool across from me, that playful glint still dancing in his eyes.
“So,” he says, grabbing a spoon from the counter, “what culinary masterpiece will this be?”
“Chocolate cake,” I say. “And knowing Lucy, it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
“Bold claim. Might need a sample first. For, you know, quality control.”
I raise a brow. “You just want the batter.”
“I’m offended by the accusation,” he says, already reaching. “But also…yes. Obviously.”
Lucy slaps his hand away with a wooden spoon. “Back off. You can have a piece after it bakes.”
“You wound me, Lou. Denying a man in his time of need.”
“You had your time of need outside,” she says with a wink, then glances at me. “He good?”
I nod, biting back a smile. “He’s fine. Just a little dramatic.”
Callan points the spoon at me. “That’s slander, and I’ll see you in court.”
“Good,” I shoot back. “I’ve always wanted to yell objection in real life.”
Lucy groans. “I’m surrounded by toddlers.”
“Correction,” Callan says. “Highly attractive, emotionally complex toddlers.”
Knox’s laughter rings out. “That’s not the win you think it is, bud.”
We all laugh, and things might not be perfect for me right now, but they’re okay. Okay enough for me to breathe a little deeper, and that’s something I can work with.
I woke up this morning feeling surprisingly refreshed, which is a minor miracle considering the whirlwind the past few days have been. Now I’m about to head back to the States and go through the whole jet lag thing all over again. Because that’s always a treat.
The idea of leaving this bubble where everything actually feels okay has anxiety settling back in.
I try to get it together, zero in on the task at hand like that’ll somehow keep the spiral at bay.
Fold the damn clothes, Bree. But my hands are trembling, and I keep refolding the same sweater like that’ll fix whatever’s cracking open inside me.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.
I blink hard, biting the inside of my cheek as I do a quick once-over of my room at Rose’s, making sure I haven’t left anything behind.
Juliette’s perched on the edge of the bed, watching me with that little frown she gets whenever she feels guilty. “I’m so sorry I can’t take you to the airport,” she says, her voice soft. “If I had known you were coming, I wouldn’t have booked my appointment.”
I wave her off with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it, Jules.
I came here to surprise you, not for you to put your entire life on hold.
” The last thing I want is for her to feel bad.
She’s got enough on her plate already, and as for me?
Well, I’m just trying to survive this whole mess and get back to normal. Whatever that even is at this point.
I turn back to the suitcase, pulling at the zipper like it’s personally offended me. It’s not budging. Not. At. All. “Damnit. Sit your skinny ass on top of this for me? I can’t get it zipped.”
She bursts out laughing and hops off the bed. She makes her way over to the suitcase and perches on top of it like she’s some kind of delicate bird. Her thin frame barely even makes a dent.
I roll my eyes. “Come on, put some muscle into it!”
She bounces up and down dramatically, making a show of it. Finally, with one last tug, the zipper gives in, and I manage to wrangle it closed. “There we go,” I say, wiping my hands. “Crisis averted.”
Juliette slides off the suitcase and, without a word, wraps her arms around me. She presses her cheek against my shoulder, and the weight of her sadness seeps through the hug. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” she murmurs. “These past few days have been a dream.”
I squeeze her back, my throat tightening just a little, because this is harder than I expected.
“I’ll come back as soon as I can, you can count on it.
” And I mean it. There’s nothing holding me in one place anymore.
Well, nothing except Nugget, but he’s portable. I’ll figure it out. One way or another.
“Ugh, well, Callan should be here to pick you up any minute. My appointment is thirty minutes away, so I better get going.” She gives me a sad smile. “Be so careful, okay? Text me at every stop on the way back?”
“You know I will.”
She holds my gaze for a moment, then her voice turns teasing, yet still serious. “You’re also not off the hook. You never told me what happened with Dillon, and I’m giving you a pass for now, but you owe me the full story at some point.”
I wave her off. “Yeah, yeah. Now shoo before you’re late.”
She rolls her eyes at my dismissive tone but doesn’t fight it. She gives me a final hug, then heads out the door, leaving me with that lingering feeling of already missing her before I’ve even left.
I flop onto the bed, letting out an exaggerated sigh. My brain immediately jumps into overdrive, running through a marathon of thoughts I’m definitely not ready to deal with. I try to push them aside, but they’re persistent little buggers. I just need to survive today and keep it together.
I glance around the room like it’s going to offer me some kind of wisdom. Spoiler alert—it doesn’t.