Page 94 of Firecracker


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The voice in my head sounded a lot like Flynn’s, and the question was so unexpected that I froze in the doorway to the kitchen with the tray still in my hands.

There was nothing wrong with working at the Tavern. Obviously not. The place was gorgeous. The food was delicious. The mead was exceptional. And the boss was maybe the best man I’d ever known.

So whyhadBrittany’s innocent comment made me defensive?

The answer hit me just as forcefully as the question had: because the lessons we learned from our parents were insidious. You could confront them, reject them, flee them, try tokill them with fire…and still, the roots remained buried deep.

And even at thirty-two, having long ago decided that I would make my own choices and be my own person… I’d gotten defensive because the son of Patricia Wellbridge and the Senator was supposed to be a high-powered executive at a major company, not a man who served at atavernlike one ofthoseHoneycutts.

Ididhave a Wellbridge attitude. And it had been impairing my vision.

“JT?” Dan demanded irritably. “There a reason you’re stuck in the middle of the swinging door? Pick a direction, buddy.”

I nodded without really seeing him. The problem was that I didn’twantto pick a direction. I wanted to be Frog, the Honeybridge native who enjoyed quiet mornings at the Retreat fishing with Pop Honeycutt, late nights at the Tavern kissing Flynn stupid behind the bar, and long, lazy backyard potlucks that became impromptu jam sessions with new and old friends. But I also wanted to be JT Wellbridge—the successful salesman who’d thumbed his nose at his parents’ expectations, chosen his own life path, and gotten every bit as successful as his mother had wanted him to be…withouther interference.

I didn’twant to—couldn’t—give up either of those things. And that was what my problem boiled down to, really.

“JT?” Dan said, irritation turning to anger when I still hadn’t moved.

It was like the man didn’t realize I was having important life revelations here.

“Yeah, sorry.” I stepped aside, and Dan rolled his eyes before brushing past me.

After depositing the tray in the kitchen, I returned to the bar, hoping to steal Flynn away for a brief chat to help me process this… but Cas had taken over the bar while Flynn chatted with a table of tourists.

I was surprised to see Reagan sitting on one of the tall stools, nursing a lemonade.

“Hey,” I said, moving close enough to talk over the bar without yelling. “I thought you were out at the lake with Brantleigh and that crew.”

He shook his head glumly. “I left early. It’s exhausting to be around people who are so shallow and immature.”

I nodded. Until a couple of weeks ago, I’d have put Reagan in that category himself. Now I wondered why a guy who sometimes seemed so self-aware and insightful hung around with a revolving door of image-obsessed young socialites.

“Did something happen?” I wondered.

“Not really.” He paused. “Or… kinda, yeah, I guess.” He took a deep breath, and my stomach clenched, waiting to hear what kind of trouble Brantleigh and Dysen had gotten him into. “I got offered a job,” he said in a rush. “Well, it’s an internship, really, but it… well, it has potential.”

“That… is not what I was expecting you to say. That’s fucking amazing.” I grinned hugely and leaned over the bar to give his shoulder a gentle shove. “Congratulations, bro.”

“Yeah. It’s… good.” He sighed. “I’m excited. I think I might really like it.”

“Yeah, you sound super excited.” I snorted. “Like, shit, Rea, please try to keep the excessive celebrating down.” I leaned my forearms on the bar. “What’s the problem? Do you think Mother and Dad will give you shit over it? Because I know it’s easier said than done, but you’ve gotta get over that. Stepping away from their expectations was the best thing I ever did.”

Reagan shook his head glumly. “It’s worse than that. I think they’ll bethrilled.” He wrinkled his nose. “Mother basically set this up. If I accept the internship, she’s gonna gloat forever, and I’ll never get her to stop interfering in my life.”

“Ooooh.” I winced. “I see. Yep. That’s gonna suck. But you can’t turn your back on something amazing just because it might prove Mother right. That’d be just as bad as doing it because she wanted you to. You need to figure out how to not let them influence you at all, you know? Come up with your own definition of success and happiness, and— Oh.”

I broke off midsentence and stared at Flynn as he approached the bar, shooting me a wink and a smile along the way.

“JT?” Reagan frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no. I’m great.” I ran a hand over my forehead. “Just… realizing I need to take my own stupid advice.”

To define success and happinessfor myself.

The simplest and most complicated idea ever.

“You gonna enlighten me?” Reagan prompted.

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