Page 88 of The Misfits of Copper County
But before I could send it, another message from Brewer appeared.
Brewer
FYI, I’m taking your advice and talking to Hayes about other stuff too. You were right. Thank you, Delaney. xx
My chest melted into goo, looking at those little x’s, hearing Brewer sound so happy—like opening up to Hayes was as cathartic for him as sledgehammering had been for me.
I immediately deleted what I’d written.
Iwas the one who wanted answers, who wanted facts, who wanted to know in plain English how Brewer felt and where he thought this—us—might be heading.
But Brewer needed time with his cousin tonight, which meant I needed to chill. My feelings would keep until the morning.
I’ll be fine. Sleep well. We’ll talk tomorrow.
I closed my laptop and pushed away from my desk, suddenly exhausted. I stopped to check the lock on the front door, grab a glass of water, and shut out the lights in the dining area. It was funny how quickly I’d gotten used to having Brewer as part of my nighttime routine and how empty the house felt without him.
Then I walked into the living room, headed for the stairs, and saw a pair of giant eyes lurking in the shadows near the bookcase.
I paused with my hand on the banister.
“Fantine Barnum,” I scolded. “We are going to talk about this habit of yours, young lady. You can’t just come in here and accost me with those eyes whenever you want. There are rules, and without rules, there’s chaos.”
Teeny lowered her head to rest on her paws.
“You miss Brewer, huh?” I murmured.
Her tail thumped the floor.
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I feel that.” After a brief hesitation, I surprised myself by waving a hand and saying, “Come on, then. Keep me company tonight.”
She followed me upstairs eagerly, nails clicking softly on the hardwood. When we reached my bedroom, I pointed to the rug next to my bed.
“You sleepthere,” I told her firmly. “My bed’s a hard limit.”
Teeny seemed to accept this. She kept those irresistible pleading eyes safely holstered, circled three times, then settled with a contented sigh in the spot I’d indicated.
I watched her for a moment before climbing into bed, surprisingly comforted by her presence. I was tired but also wired, thinking of all the things I wanted to tell Brewer.
For some reason, I felt nervous, which was unlike my usual fired-up, confrontational style.
I blew out a breath, reminding myself that Brewer and I had come a long way in a few short weeks, and the change had begun when I’d started being honest with him, even about the things that made me nervous.
So tomorrow, I’d tell Brewer how I felt about him and find out if he felt the same way.
Now that I’d admitted to myself I was all in on having a jam cupboard, it was time to get the jam cupboard on… board.
Because this house and the life I was building in it weren’t just another stop on my journey anymore. They were my home.
And so was Brewer.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
BREWER
It was sometimeafter midnight when I slipped into Delaney’s darkened house, drawn like a compass finding north to the man sleeping inside it.
Opening up to Hayes tonight had been cathartic. For years, I’d avoided discussing my father—what for, when it changed nothing?—but I’d known for a while that my silence had put Hayes in a tough position, and I’d owed him an explanation.
