Page 47 of Small Town Sizzle

He nods, understanding without prying.

We stand and leave the youth center; the night air is cool against my skin as we step into the parking lot. My keys jangle in my hand, but before I can unlock the car, he tugs me gently by the wrist, pulling me close.

“Drive safe,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm. Then, without hesitation, he dips his head, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s soft but lingering, as if he’s reluctant to let go.

By the time I pull away and slide into the driver’s seat, my heart is still racing. He watches me from the curb until I drive off, his figure illuminated by the dim glow of the parking lot lights.

The drive home is quiet, the hum of the engine and the rhythmic beat of the tires on the road the only sounds. I feel numb, like all the emotions I let out earlier have drained me completely. Embarrassment creeps in as I replay the moments in my head—how vulnerable I was in Garrett’s arms, how easily I let myself fall apart in front of him.

By the time I pull into the driveway, the house is dark except for the faint glow of the porch light. I cut the engine and sit for a moment, staring at the familiar outline of the house.

Inside, everything is quiet. I peek into Alex and Jaz’s room, my heart clenching as I take in their peaceful faces, their soft breaths rising and falling in the dim light of the nightlights.

“You’re home?” Alex asks as he props himself up on his elbow.

“I am. I’m sorry, buddy, I got caught up and…”

“You don’t have to apologize, Aunt Maya. I know how you are, especially when it comes to the youth center and protecting kids. I know that you had a good reason. Jaz showered, has her clothes out for school tomorrow, and has her backpack ready, too.”

“Thanks, Alex. You’re the best.”

“It doesn’t always have to be all on you, you know?” he murmurs as he falls back onto his pillow. “The rest of us can help, too. There’s no shame in asking.”

“You sound like your mama,” I whisper as I smile back at him.

I let out a soft sigh at his words before I walk into my bedroom. I shut the door behind me and fall into my bed, fully clothed. I’m too drained even to take my clothes off.

I can close my eyes for a few minutes, and then I’ll wake up and undress.

The last thing I see before I drift off is the faint glow of the moon through the curtains, and the last thing I feel is the ghost of Garrett’s arms around me, holding me together when I feel like I am falling apart.

I really trust him, and I hope that I’m right in doing so because my instincts have been so terribly wrong in the past.

Chapter Seventeen

Garrett

The smell of sawdust fills the air as I tighten the last screw into the frame of a new shelving unit. It’s a steady rhythm—measure, cut, assemble—and the kind of work I’ve always liked. It keeps my hands busy, and my mind doesn’t wander too much, though that’s a losing battle today.

My brother can think that my work overseas was mostly behind a desk, and a lot of it was, but my favorite days were always the days that I could get out and get my hands dirty. In some of those countries, I wasn’t just working alongside adults but also teaching kids how to build a home. I smile at the thought and keep moving.

Maya has been in and out of the youth center since morning, moving with purpose but somehow managing to avoid me like I’m carrying the plague. She breezes past, clipboard in hand, offering tight-lipped smiles and quick nods but no words.

I get it. Last night was intense—everything that happened. I don’t think that she shows emotions often, and she’s probablyembarrassed that she cried herself to sleep in my arms, but she has no reason to be.

She probably needs space to sort through it all. Still, it doesn’t stop the sting of her avoidance or the part of me that wants to press, to force her to talk to me.

I need the space, as well. Maya is the first woman I’ve felt anything for in a long time. In all honesty, I hadn’t felt anything for my ex-wife for at least a year before it ended. But even though those feelings were gone, it didn’t mean that her betrayal didn’t sting.

I thought it would be hard to trust again, but there’s something about Maya that made it easy to do.

I can’t stop thinking about her. Her avoidance is causing my insecurities to rear their ugly head, too. It’s easy to get in the memories of how I treated Natalie like a queen, but she still cheated on me. Would Maya be the same?

Before I can think of those things, though, I need to know if she felt the same thing I did, the same feeling of rightness—almost homecoming—like I did. Especially before I do something crazy like ask her on a date or pour my heart out to her.

I take a deep breath and then bury myself in the work.

The center is quiet today, with most of the kids at school. I’ve been focused on fixing up the lounge area, installing new shelves for games and books, and reinforcing some of the older furniture.

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