“If I know my wife, she didn’t really give you a choice.” Denver grins as he slides the twenty into the chest pocket of his overalls.
“You’re not wrong.” His wife might’ve been the instigator, but ever since meeting Aspen, I’ve been making decisions that don’t make a damn bit of sense. Like voluntarily showing up for an evening of hellish small talk.
Gravel crunches behind us and I turn to see an SUV pulling up. The driver’s side door lifts and a platform lowers a man in a wheelchair onto the gravel. Another older guy climbs out beside him.
Atlas and Denver head toward them, and I trail behind, feeling a little like an unwanted accessory.
“James, Jude, this is Emmett Slate.” Atlas gestures toward me. “Briar strong-armed him into horseshoes while he’s recovering in Aspen’s loft.”
James leans forward in his chair, both hands wrapping around mine before I can react.
“You’re the hotshot that saved my daughter.”
His weathered face pulls tight with gratitude that sits heavy in my gut. “I can’t tell you how thankful I am for what you did during the Stillwater Fire.”
“James is Harlowe’s dad,” Atlas says quietly, clearly clocking the panic on my face.
Oh.
“Well.” I carefully pull my hand free and shove it into my pocket. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The words feel painfully inadequate.
Saving Harlowe never felt noble. There wasn’t time to think, weigh risks, or decide whether her life was worth mine. Training and instinct took over before my brain ever caught up.
But this town looks at me like I did something heroic.
Carl was right.
And I’m a fraud.
I saved Harlowe, sure. But I’m also the reason she needed saving in the first place.
Gratitude scrapes against something raw inside me because I don’t know what to do with it—never really have.
“So, you all actually sit around playing horseshoes on Monday nights?” I ask, aiming for light. “This isn’t a cover for something more interesting?”
Denver barks out a laugh. “You’ve met my wife. Would you risk lying to her?”
That’s a hard no. Briar gives off the kind of energy that’d sniff out a lie before you even thought it and wouldn’t hold back on revenge.
“He learned that lesson early on.” Atlas elbows him in the side. “Only takes having all your shit super-glued to your locker once.”
Denver grins wide as he leans against the porch railing.
Jude chimes in one corner of his lip curling. “Even I’ve heard that one.”
“Briar did that to you.” I can’t help but be amused. If I have to be here, at least I’m going to get a laugh out of it.
“Back in high school.” His smirk tells me exactly how he feels about his wife. He’s a fool—head over heels for her, nonsense and all.
“This feels like the kind of small town backstory not even I can pass up.”
“Briar’s always had a jealous streak a mile wide. She caught me talking to another girl in the hallway.” He blows a sputtering breath. “It looked bad, so I can’t really blame her for jumping to conclusions. The girl’s parents had a ranch with a ton of land and the views—” He runs his teeth over his bottom lip. “Let’s just say they would impress a date, and I was young, dumb and hoping to get lucky. Unfortunately for both of us, jealousy got the best of my girl before I could explain, and she glued all my stuff to my locker—notebooks, gum, my football bag, all of it. Explaining to her dad—the principal—why his sweet daughter would do such a thing was a real treat.”
I blink, trying not to laugh at the absurdity. Denver, Atlas, James, even Jude—who hasn’t said a word—look like they’re enjoying the memory. And I can’t help but notice how . . . human this feels.
Funny, chaotic, messy, and warm.
