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Letting my brothers in is not an option. They don’t know or suspect what I’ve been through. What I’ve done.
I nearly jump out of my skin when the siren goes off.
“Fixed it,” Wyatt announces.
I whip around, hardening my expression.
“Yup, I’m going,” Wyatt drawls, picking up on the fact that he needs to get the fuck out of my vicinity before I unleash big brother bodily harm.
I close my eyes to draw in a long breath.
When I open them, Wyatt and the beacon are gone. So is the box of donuts.
I swear under my breath. It’s going to be a long goddamn day.
Clock ticking toward five, the sun dies a slow death in the sky as early evening shadows creep over the snowy street. First day at the new—well, old—job complete.
Today felt like I was stuck in a freakishly warped version of rewind to the past. Looking for any remnants of that spark between Davis and me, and that sisterly love between me and Fallon. Not to mention, no one in town scowled when I walked by.
My back aches, my feet scream, but I survived.
I can do one day.
On a satisfied sigh, I toss my dusty cloth down and cast my gaze over the quiet store. I’ve stayed productive—wiping shelves that haven’t seen a rag since I left, changing Fallon’s TV setting to something less murdery, and reorganizing the coolers by type.
The Avett Brothers’ “No Hard Feelings” blares from inside the kitchen, where Fallon’s sequestered herself for the last two hours. I stare at the saloon-style door, almost dizzy from the knowledge of what’s behind it. My sister. An oven. Dirty counters. Rolling pins.
But I can’t be a coward my entire life, so I finally push my way through and enter.
The sight that greets me has me smiling. At the counter, dipped low beside stacks of clean dishes, Fallon’s putting onburgundy lipstick using a toaster as a mirror. It softens her, makes her look less vengeful.
“Hot date?” I tease.
She straightens up without answering, only the slow flush of pink over her cheeks gives her away. It always was her damn tell. She can lie all she wants, but those cheeks hold all her secrets.
I wish we could go back. Wish we’d just talk and talk without me having to think of what to say. Wish she felt more like a sister than a stranger. Wish it didn’t make me so sad because I know the void between us is my fault.
Sweat dots my brow, but I move deeper into the kitchen.
Fallon’s response to my nearness is to slide a dirty rag over the countertop and bang on the oven with the toe of her boot. The oven door slips, crooked on its hinges.
I frown. “This still isn’t fixed?”
Fallon snorts. “Oh, we fixed it all right. ‘Bout four years ago.”
“Well, we should fix it again,” I tell her. “I saw the bread you were serving on those sandwiches.” I give her a careful look. “It was burned.”
Her nostrils flare. “Sorry,Chef. I’ll get on that right after I take dad to chemo tomorrow.”
“I can do it,” I offer.
She spends the next minute glaring at me, then says, “No.”
A churning sensation twists my stomach to knots. Because, sure, I’m the one who’s stayed away all these years. I’ve earned her hurt. “I don’t want to be a problem, Fallon. All I want to do is help if you’ll let me.”
“You want to know what my problem is? It’s you. You come back to town and everyone thinks you’re the golden girl all over again.” A toss of that caramel hair. “Must be pretty nice for you. Spin your story.”
“Are you kidding me?” My laugh is dry. “They all see me as a loser. You know how this town is.” I glance at the oven andscowl. “You get out alive, you get success, no one cares. In the end, all you are is a traitor.”
