Dad snorted. “Bullshit.” He shook his head at me. “So I guess I now know why you are so damn tight with money. You certainly don’t get that from your mom. As long as the farm is doing well, she’s happy to boost the local economy anyway she can.”
I laughed at that. He wasn’t wrong. “Has she met the new bookstore owner yet? I bet that’s a place that will have her loyalty.”
“Not sure. You met her?” he asked.
“Yeah, few weeks back, Ivy. Came into the brewery. She just moved to the area this spring. Said she used to have family here and wanted to open a store in a place like this. Said she’s calling it Pages. Sounds cool, though she was a trip.”
“A trip, how so?” he asked.
“Nothing big, seems nice. Her style was just interesting. Name is Ivy. Ivy Abrams, I think. She would have fit right in during the seventies.”
“The seventies? Your mom will love that. She a hippy?”
“No idea. Emma said something about boho, but I have no idea what that means.” I smiled at the memory of Ivy coming in to talk to Jake the other day. It was one of the moments of the week where I had hope that we’d get back to normal soon. “She had on some long flowy dress with a shit ton of hair. She talked to Jake for almost an hour about crystals, moon water, and astrology, then recommended some books.” I snorted thinking of Jake’s confused expression.
My dad leaned back, letting out a hoot of laughter. “So, what sign is he?”
“No idea.” I laughed with him. “I think Jake escaped to the kitchen at that point.” I looked up to see my dad watching me.
“Asked if you wanted to swing by this morning because I needed to get my eyes on you, to see if you were really okay,” he said, his voice dropping to his don’t-bullshit-me tone I remembered well.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He crossed his arms, widening his stance as he watched me with a measuring gaze that I knew I’d see reflected back at me in a mirror. “Your life has taken quite a turn. From what Emma says, you now have a roommate.” His gaze dropped as he looked over the top of his glasses at me.
Well, maybe I should have let them know about Maggie’s new living arrangements. In all fairness, we’d had a lot going on. “Yeah, Dad, Maggie moved in. But we’re operating as friends here. Everything is good.”
Dad watched me for a beat or two. Part of me wanted to pull up a spot at the kitchen table and spill all my insecurities out, about the business, about Maggie, about how I was fucking all this up already. A larger part of me knew I wasn’t going to do this. I needed to be strong like he’d been. I needed to get my shit together and stop making impulsive decisions based on fear. Jake was right, which he would be delighted to hear. Not sure if that meant that we needed to be canning quite yet—it still might be early—but he was right that I shouldn’t have made the decision impulsively. Hell.
I realized I’d been lost in thought, so I looked back to my dad to see that he was still watching me. “I’m good, Dad. Swear. Just working through stuff.”
He nodded twice, then stood up. “All right. I’m just going to trust that you are old enough to know that your mom and I are here if you need anything. Now,” he tapped the book he’d placed on the counter, “have you read this Reacher? Damn good book.”
I jumped back down to take the book that my dad was handing to me and read the back. I appreciated that he was giving me the space to figure out what I needed to without letting me feel alone in doing so. One more way he was showing me what it looked like to be a good dad. How would I ever live up to the path he’d blazed for me?
13
Finding a New Normal
Maggie
It had been a week, but living at Sully’s had already begun to feel normal. Well, I should say it had become a new normal. Other than that first night, we kept our distance for the most part. With every day, with every action, he showed me that our friendship was as solid as it ever was. Hopefully it was strong enough to take on the new role of parenting. There were times I longed for more than a friendship, but that feeling had been present for so many years I felt like I could ignore it.
Maybe.
The knowledge of what we could be, what it was like to be with him as something more, made it so much harder. But this was what we were. I wouldn’t be sticking around Highland Falls for good, and this was Sully’s home. We couldn’t be more, but for the baby’s sake, having a strong friendship to raise a child—especially when we didn’t live in the same town, was important.
I told myself this on a daily basis. My nagging inner voice told me I was an idiot.
Whatever.
After a week of lounging around his house, building up some arm strength throwing the ball around for Ranger, and coming down from the emotional roller coaster that was the end of a school year, I realized: I needed a job. While a summer stretching out unscheduled in front of me was delicious in many ways, days filled with nothing gave my mind time to wander.
My mind wandered when I saw Sully throwing the ball with Ranger, shirt off, sweat over his chest as it glistened in the sun after his morning run. It wandered when I watched him humming to himself in the kitchen as he moved around the island. Standing there in lounge pants, snug T-shirt, kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder, he was a damn vision. Add to that the notion that he was cooking dinner for me on nights off from the brewery or making breakfast for me each day, and it was hard not to jump him.
My mind wandered to when he came in the bathroom after me on one of my many visits to the porcelain throne to throw up all the contents of my stomach. He didn’t ask permission, he didn’t tell me it would be okay. He simply slid behind me, holding my hair back in one hand as the other stroked my back. When I was done he would stand up, grab a washcloth that he’d soak under the faucet, and hand it to me, moving out of the room quickly to let me have my space. We didn’t talk about it, but often when I came out I’d find some snack on the counter—saltines, toast, or peppermint tea were the most common.
He was taking care of me without making a big thing about it, and each day I told myself not to get used to this. Cole Sullivan was a good guy, the best kind of guy. To him, I was a responsibility. He cared about me, for sure, but I needed someone who loved me for me, not out of an obligation or sense of duty. Someone who wouldn’t be tied to the town I needed to leave. Someone who hadn’t known me since I was young, who didn’t pity me. That was not Sully, no matter how much he made my entire body tingle whenever he touched me. The fact that he turned me on was not in question here. It was just one more reminder that I needed to get out of this house, this town, ASAP.
