Page 13 of November's Bad Boy: Kacen
Maybe all I can do is keep showing up. Every day. Every awkward moment. Every too-long stare. Every shared coffee and accidental laugh. Maybe that’s how redemption works. Not in grand gestures, but in the quiet persistence of being better.
I pull out my phone and text Kingston again.
Me: You ever screw everything up and still hope it’ll work out?
Kingston: Every damn day.
Me: How do you keep showing up?
Kingston: Because people are worth it. Even when they don’t believe it yet.
I stare at the screen and let out a breath.
Natalie might not believe in me.
But I believe in her.
And maybe, just maybe, I can prove I’m worth believing in too.
CHAPTER 4
NATALIE
The bell above the Merc’s front door jingles with more customers entering, and I don’t even look at who as I drop two bags of flour on the counter, the paper crinkling under my arm as I lean into it with a sigh. Ruby glances up from the espresso machine, looking as if she’s been waiting to pounce.
“Morning, sugar,” she says with too much cheer for someone who has been awake since before the sun. “You look like somebody said pumpkin spice lattes were outlawed.”
“I’m fine,” I mumble, brushing a strand of hair from my face and dusting flour off my shirt. “Just tired. And maybe on the verge of a mild structural crisis.”
Ruby hums like she’s heard worse before lunch. “Let me guess. The shelf in your pantry finally gave up the ghost?”
“No. The pantry’s still standing,” I say. “But the faucet in my laundry room started leaking last night, and this morning I opened the cabinet under the sink to find it looked like a toddler pool.”
Ruby leans over the counter and raises one perfectly plucked brow. “You need help?”
“I’ll figure it out,” I say, which is code for: I will duct tape this together until it either holds or floods the house.
“Or, and hear me out, you could let someone help. Owen’s off today. I can ask him to swing by.”
The thought of Owen, bless him, tripping over my laundry baskets and trying not to break anything with his giant hands, makes my eye twitch. “Thanks, but I don’t know if I want another person rummaging under my sink. Last time someone helped me with plumbing, I ended up with a broken pipe and a flooded bathroom.”
“Mmm.” Ruby wipes the steamer wand with a towel. “You sure it’s the plumbing you don’t trust? Or the people?”
“I’m not having this conversation.”
She smirks like she’s already won. “Well, if you change your mind, I know a few capable men.”
“I’m sure you do.” I start for the door, pausing only when she adds, “Maybe one in particular who just fixed the heater at the community center and happened to mention he’s decent with tools.”
I roll my eyes so hard they almost fall out of my head. “Ruby.”
“I’m just saying,” she calls as the door jingles behind me. “He’s already proven he can take care of things. Maybe let him try something smaller than your heart.”
I mutter something not appropriate for daylight hours and head back to my car. By the time I get home and open the front door, Hades is already stretched across my front porch, every inch of him radiating ownership. He blinks slowly up at me, sunning himself like a fat cat in a wolf’s body.
“Don’t give me that look. I know you somehow heard all of that.”
He yawns, then thumps his tail exactly once, which I take as approval or judgment. Hard to tell with him.
