Page 23 of Wood Riddance
He shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything. You can call me any day, any time, and I’ll be there.” Tucking his chin, he dropped his attention to the desk between us and ran his hands through his hair. “Is there any chance?” His words were barely a whisper.
“No. Not anymore,” I said, both relieved and sad to make my intentions clear. “Not after…”
He nodded again. “Yeah. My dad.”
And as I stood there, witness to the pain on his earnest face. I felt it.
The thaw.
As much as I wanted to despise the man and everything he represented, I couldn’t. After losing my dad and almost losing my brothers, holding my ground on one side of a silly family feud didn’t seem worth it. I couldn’t forgive, and I’d never forget, but I would tolerate. I would do it for the business and for my dad, who truly believed in giving people second chances.
I had to do better. “Let’s get through this. Work together.”
Swallowing thickly, he dipped his chin. “Yeah.”
“No flirting, no innuendos, no teasing. Okay?”
He winced. “That’s gonna be a challenge. Maybe if you agreed to stop wearing those cute outfits…”
I looked down at myself and held out my arms. “Um, I’m covered in axle grease. Trust me. This isn’t me trying.”
He chuckled and held out a hand. “Truce?”
I slid my palm against his, trying to ignore how big and strong it was and the way my heart jumped a tiny bit when our skin touched.
After holding on for way too long. I dropped his hand. Willing my walls to come back up.
“Now that we’ve settled that, get the fuck out of my office.”
Chapter7
Finn
“Dad.”
I blinked up at the ceiling, confused.
“Dad.” The word registered with me this time.
I jumped up to find Merry standing in the doorway, silhouetted by a dim light coming from down the hall.
“Everything okay?” I said, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the dark room.
“I can’t go to camp tomorrow.”
“Okay, sweets,” I said, still waiting for my brain to boot up. “Are you sick? I’ll find the thermometer.” In four strides, I was standing on the cold tile floor of the bathroom and flipping on the harsh fluorescent light.Shit, that was blinding.
“No. I’m not sick.”
She followed me, looking so small and scared in her unicorn pajamas with her dark hair a mess.
I ushered her out and toward the kitchen, where I got each of us a glass of water. “Wanna tell me what’s up?” I asked, taking our drinks to the living room. I settled on the couch quietly, giving her some time to respond.
Parenting a tween was not for the weak, and I had learned the hard way to give her time and space to put her concerns into words.
She plopped onto the cushion and curled up against me. “I don’t want to go. The kids there are so mean. And Bella’s family is on vacation, so I have no friends at all.”
That statement was punctuated by a dramatic hair toss.
