Page 86 of The Misfits of Copper County
I wanted that time. Badly. But it was occurring to me that, as much as I felt like I’d gotten to know Brewer through our late-night conversations, and as desperately as I wanted to knoweverythingabout him, there was a lot he wasn’t telling me.
Brewer must have noticed something in my expression because he frowned down at me. “What’s wrong? Did something happen with Marjorie? Is she changing the timeline for… for Costa Rica?”
“Sort of. Not exactly. I…”
My stomach fluttered with nerves. What would Brewer say if I told him I was planning to stop traveling? Would he immediately feel weird about it, like it was putting too much pressure on our quasi… whatever this was? The happy confidence I’d felt all morning seemed to have vanished without a trace, and I needed to find it again.
“Are you free for dinner?” I blurted. “Maybe we could go out, just the two of us. Get something to eat and talk.”
Brewer winced, and I realized exactly what I’d asked. For Brewer to be seen with me in public—something that wouldn’t be regarded as “professional” in the eyes of the town gossips.
Sure enough, he shook his head regretfully. “I can’t tonight. I promised Hayes I’d see him. It’s been almost two weeks, and… well, he moved to Copper County for me, so I try to catch up with him once a week or so.”
“He did?” I found myself genuinely interested, not just relieved by the change of subject. Every time Brewer shared something about himself—a small fact, a piece of his history—it felt like being given a rare gift. “You guys are really close, huh?”
“He’s like a little brother—in all the good and bad ways.” Brewer huffed out a laugh, his eyes soft. “I don’t have a lot of family, and when I went no-contact with my dad, I lost half of what I did have. Hayes stuck by me.” He made a face. “Even if hedoeskeep trying to get me to reconsider that now.”
I felt a strange prickle at the back of my neck. The way Brewer talked about his father made me wonder just how deep that estrangement went—and what had caused it.
“Fuck that,” I said. “I mean, if Hayes knows how strongly you feel, and he believed what you did was right…”
“He knows. Mostly,” Brewer corrected, his jaw tightening. “He knows the facts. But I don’t talk about it much. There’s no reason to, really. Sometimes it’s okay to walk away and protect your peace.”
There was a story there—a bigger story than the brief outline he’d given me that night by the fire. But I didn’t push.
Instead, I asked, “But if you told Hayes that, if he understood how strongly you feel about it and why, he’d stop trying to get you to reconsider. Wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t it be better to have the conversation, to talk about it even if it’s hard, so that he could understand you better? And know what you want?” I attempted a smile. “Everyone deserves to have their story told, but that means you kinda have totellit.”
Brewer looked at me for a long moment. “Yeah,” he said finally. “You’re right. That’s smart advice, Delaney.”
“Ha. Well. I have my moments,” I joked, but a twist of uncertainty snaked its way through me. If Brewer was this guarded with his own cousin, how much was he keeping from me? How badly was I deluding myself, thinking we’d gotten closer over the past week?
He tilted his head and studied me. “You want to talk about your Marjorie situation? I can bang together a cabinet out of scrap lumber, and we can get the sledgehammer if you need it after all. Or I could get your personal Kitchen Courier to bring you some strawberry croissants. Somebody once told me they weremedicinal.”
The smile that spread across my face was so big it practically hurt my cheeks. Despite my sudden unease, I couldn’t help responding to Brewer’s warmth. A wave of affection had me stepping into him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and burying my head in that glorious chest.
“Hey, hey.” He wrapped his arms around me instantly. “It’s gonna be okay.” He tilted my chin up. “I believe that, Delaney, ’cause I believe inyou. Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out, and I’ll help you if I can.”
I took a deep breath. That didn’t sound like the talk of a man who was totally against the idea of a relationship, did it?
“The thing with Marjorie—well, part of it, anyway—is that the article I’m writing isn’t going well, like I told you. Marjorie said I might need to accept that it never will. But I don’t know. Part of me worries I’m just being stubborn, and the other part of me feels like I need to keep going. I don’t want Empire Ridge to get away with their shit, and I want to get justice for the people they’ve hurt?—”
Brewer’s face went still for just a fraction of a second—so briefly, I might have imagined it—before he smiled.
“Well, Ilikehow stubborn you are,” he said, his voice warm despite the flicker I’d noticed. “I mean, it drives me crazy when it’s in reference to the forty-seven bathroom vanities you keep saying aren’t perfect—” He grinned. “—but I respect it. You don’t compromise your principles. You do what you say you will. So if you feel like you want to let it go, then let it go. But if you want to get justice… stick to your guns, no matter what. Trust yourself.”
“Wow.” I studied him, wondering if the momentary tension in his face had been my imagination. “Thank you.” I leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “And regarding the rest of the Marjorie stuff, can we talk tomorrow?”
“Of course.” His mouth quirked up at the corner. “Whatever you want.”
I felt my face flush. WhatdidI want from Brewer, exactly? I was starting to think it was… everything.
He pressed a soft kiss to my temple, then went back to his cabinets, leaving me feeling both hopeful and increasingly unsettled.
The rest of the day passed in a kind of pleasant haze. Brewer grilled steaks for an early dinner—not shirtless, alas—then stood beside me in the kitchen afterward, watching Teeny play in the yard through the window, the snow glinting in the setting sun. Brewer’s arm was warm around my shoulders, and I found myself leaning into him automatically, like my body had already learned this was where it belonged.
He sighed. “Kinda wish I hadn’t promised Hayes I’d stop by, to be honest. Video games are so not my thing.”
I pulled back just far enough to give him a look. “Did you tell Hayesthat?” I asked. “Have you ever revealed your deep, dark love of musicals? Maybe he and Kel would watchWickedwith you.”
