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Logan nodded and took a step back. “Okay. Call me if you need anything. We’re supposed to work on your garden soon, right?”

Pepper nodded. That was the plan, and she’d started for some busywork, but really that was the furthest from her mind.

“Bye, Logan,” she said, climbing into her car.

She sat there for a minute behind the steering wheel, not starting the engine or even bothering to put on her seat belt. She was stunned by their entire conversation. She’d thought a miracle occurred when her mother told her she would support her dating Grant again. Now Logan had just given her permission to fix what was broken in her relationship with Grant. All the barriers were suddenly lifted.

What exactly would she do about it? Did she want to get involved with him again? There was no guarantee that the drama and angst that had driven them apart would stay at bay forever. When the truth came out, Grant might be the one caught in between as his family dealt with the truth about Logan. Being with him wouldn’t be easy.

Then again, she had to do something. She couldn’t just sit back and watch Grant date other women. She couldn’t resign herself to the ranks of the other women in Rosewood who had loved and lost the town bad boy.

Loved. She was a damn fool, but in that moment she realized her brother was right. She had fallen in love with Grant Chamberlain. Logan wanted her to go to him and tell him how she felt, and she wanted to, but she didn’t know if it would even matter. When she’d broken it off with him, he didn’t chase after her or try to change her mind. Even if she swallowed her pride and confessed the truth, he might slam the door in her face. She wouldn’t blame him if he did.

She started the car and considered whether she should drive straight to his loft and spill her guts. She could do it . . . right now . . . but she was a coward. Too much had happened too quickly. She needed to think. Strategize. Instead, she made her way to Daisy Drive and went home. Maybe after a glass of wine, the path forward would be clearer.

Or she might feel braver.

Chapter 20

Restless wasn’t the word for what Grant was feeling. It didn’t matter that it was after ten at night, he couldn’t still his brain.

Even Chopper couldn’t relax tonight. The hound dog kept pacing through the loft, whimpering at the door, then circling back through the room. The poor dog was probably feeding off Grant’s anxious, confused energy.

He’d left the garage today feeling like a man with a plan. He was determined to win Pepper back, but by the time he got home, he wasn’t quite as certain how to do it. Should he march over to her house and demand that she see him? Send her flowers with an apology? He honestly didn’t know how to win a woman back. He’d never tried.

What he did know was that he felt like crap. Not just because of what he’d put Pepper through, but because of the truth she was forced to hide from him. He couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her brother—his brother—Logan’s situation. The existence of another brother or sister they never knew about should’ve been little surprise to Grant, of all people. He knew what his father was capable of.

And yet, the reality of those repercussions was harder to face. He had it easy. How difficult had life been for Logan compared to the rest of the Chamberlain children? Grant had no doubt that Mr. Anthony was a good father to his adopted son, but under different circumstances, Logan could be working in the family firm after going to a prestigious law school instead of trying to scrape up customers and compete with the mighty Chamberlain machine their father operated.

It made Grant despise his father even more. He’d known about Logan from the beginning. He’d deliberately turned his back on his own child. All the years of animosity between their families, the loss of his relationship with Pepper, even Blake’s broken nose was caused by his father’s selfish actions.

None of those thoughts were helpful with the mood he was in. He was just stewing in the negativity with no outlet for it while he was cooped up in his apartment. Grant got up and picked up his police scanner from the bookshelf. He’d listened to it on and off since he’d been out of work to keep tabs on what was happening. Perhaps listening in on his coworkers’ antics would be a happy distraction tonight. He turned it on and sat down on the couch. Chopper jumped up beside him to lay down and rested his head on Grant’s lap.

At first, there wasn’t much going on. Typical Rosewood.

Grant could hear his brother talking to dispatch as he cruised the streets looking for mostly nonexistent crime. Once Jeanette Kincaid admitted to being the peeper, the excitement in town immediately died down. Now all the sheriff’s men could go back to escorting funeral processions and helping ladies change flat tires on the highway. He kept listening, but nothing was going on at the fire station to distract him, either.

Sometimes Grant missed working in Birmingham. He’d spent two years training to be a firefighter and working in the sprawling southern city. There were days that were crazy and exhausting and dangerous, but he was certainly never bored. He never made himself crazy with silence and his own thoughts.

Then again, it wasn’t home. Home was Rosewood, a sleepy southern town that didn’t have crazy crime rates or devastating fires all the time. That was a good thing. At least until you realized that whenever something did happen, it would likely affect someone that you knew. Like Estelle.

A loud chirp sounded on the radio, followed by the sound of the 911 dispatcher’s voice. “Attention, Fire and Rescue station nine. We’ve got a report of a house fire in downtown Rosewood on Daisy Drive. Neighbors called reporting smoke and visible flames at 302 Daisy Drive across from Whittaker’s restaurant. Please respond.”

Grant jerked to attention. Pepper lived right near the restaurant. What was her address? He didn’t remember for certain, but the little older houses were very close together. If one caught fire the others could easily do the same. He rushed over to his window to see if he could see anything. It was hard in the dark, but he could see the glow of flames against the trees and the neon sign of Whittaker’s nearby. If it wasn’t her house, it was one to either side.

Travis and Mack were working the night shift. The radio came alive with various voices responding and talking back and forth about details as the Fire and Rescue squad loaded up and rushed to the scene. Someone, it sounded like Mack, asked if the house was occupied and how many people could potentially be inside. The dispatcher replied that the reporter was unsure, but the resident’s car was at the home. Only one known resident at the address. That meant Pepper or Phyllis.

Grant knew he wasn’t supposed to be working, but he couldn’t just sit at home, especially knowing it might be Pepper’s house. All the firefighters in Rosewood were on call for a major fire. He could hear the dispatch calling in Paul and Kyle to report to the scene, then radioing a nearby fire station for backup. He had to go.

He leapt to his feet, grabbing his keys, and raced for the door. Chopper barely had time to cock his head curiously before Grant was out of the loft and rushing for his truck. He was only a few blocks away. He could smell the smoke in the air as he got into his truck. His tires left rubber behind as he peeled out of the parking lot and down Second Avenue toward Pepper’s house.

He couldn’t get close. The ladder truck and the rescue truck were there when he arrived, along with the ambulance and a squad car. The street was filled with vehicles

and flashing lights, so Grant parked at the restaurant across the street. Rushing from his truck, Pepper’s house finally came into view. He’d been silently praying it wasn’t hers, but he was disappointed. Pepper’s tiny house was lit up like a torch. The whole back of the house was burning with the flames reaching for the old oak trees that surrounded it. He dashed across the street, pushing aside onlookers and searching for Pepper.

Everyone was still unloading equipment and suiting up when he arrived. He rushed through, jumping over hoses and trying to ignore the sickening crackle of the fire eating away at Pepper’s dream house. The ambulance crew was standing by, they didn’t have any patients. Did that mean Pepper was still inside?

“Pepper!” he screamed, but he didn’t see her anywhere. Her little SUV was in the driveway. She was home. Where was she?

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