“But I said something stupid, and I hurt her, and now Sierra hates me too. I’m an idiot.”
“And, we’re back to that. Did you hear me say that I agree?”
Sam offered a smile. “Tell me about Jess.”
Pete grinned back, the pinch in his chest suddenly not quite so blinding. “I messed up. Tallie’s downstairs, and I think Jess might have seen me with her, maybe gotten the wrong idea. Anyway, she’s back together with Ty. So.” He lifted a shoulder.
Added a hollow smile.
Sam frowned. “I’ve known Ty his entire life—and Jess since she moved here. And I don’t remember them dating. I mean, sure, Ty might be hoping, but—”
“No, they were definitely dating. She was all secretive about it, but I guessed it, and the way he had his hands on her . . .” Pete blew out a breath. “Yeah, well. I better not go there.”
Sam was still frowning. “I don’t know, Pete. Jess doesn’t strike me as the girl who would run in Ty’s circles. Playboy cowboy with his dad’s jet and his fancy cars? His European ski vacations? Jess is normal and, I hate to say it, poor. You’ve seen her house.”
Pete shook his head. “I can’t put my finger on it, bro, but she doesn’t seem destitute. I mean, she has a closet of Columbia weather gear, skis, and a pretty nice Mac computer, not to mention her Jeep.”
Sam lifted his bed to a sitting position. Considered him. “And that’s it? You’re out? Handing Ty the game ball? Seems to me a guy who isn’t afraid to throw himself off a mountain with nothing but a squirrel suit might consider putting up a fight for the girl he loves. Talk about the ultimate risk, right?”
Pete ran his hands along the back of the chair. “Love? Let’s not go overboard here.” Apparently, stupid things still came out of his mouth. Baby steps. But he had to say something to cover the sudden black hole in his chest before he broke out in unmanly tears. “I guess that means it’s just you and me, batching it.”
Silence, and he felt Sam’s eyes on him. Then his brother smiled, slow and long. “Yep. So, how about you run out and smuggle us in a pizza? I’ll see if I can catch a late-night hockey game.”
He picked up the remote as Pete got up.
“Double sausage.”
“I know. Sheesh,” Pete said.
“And a pack of Mountain Dew.”
On the way out, Pete ducked Tallie, who was still standing in the lobby.
But he stood in the wet parking lot, lifting his face to the rain, letting it wash over him, cleanse him.
Set him free.
15
NO MATTER HOW MUCH YELLOW PAINT THEY USED, everything seemed brutally gray.
“We need to get our hearts broken more often,” Jess said, setting her roller into the antique yellow paint bin. “We’ll have the house remodeled in record time.”
“If I eat any more gelato, I’m going to roll down the stairs.” Willow leaned on a paint-splattered stool, surveying the first truly finished bedroom. With the whitewashed antique fireplace, the window seat, and the pale yellow walls, it would be the perfect escape.
For any of them. Because Willow had noticed the distinct absence of one blond handyman around the house this week. Thankfully, Ty showed up once to help Jess put up Sheetrock in this very room, but for the most part, Jess had been upstairs, alone, the radio blaring, working out the kinks of her broken heart by spackling and sanding her walls, adding primer, and painting over the marks of her remodel.
She refused to talk about Pete or anything that might have happened to cause his sudden disappearance, and even Willow noticed her tight-lipped, dark moods when she returned from training at the ranch and probable run-ins with Pete.
Not that any of them had anything to say about their dismal love lives.
Jess mentioned seeing Ian at the hospital, and Willow could do the algebra. Ian plus Sam meant Sierra was probably swearing off men and dating for a while.
As for Willow, well, at least the dog still liked her.
From the doorway, where they’d affixed a baby gate, Gopher whined, pushing his snout into the holes.
“We’ll be done in a minute, Goph,” Willow said, standing up and grabbing a towel to wipe her hands. “I’ll get you some food.”
Which seemed to be the only thing she was good at—serving people their food. She’d picked up more hours at the Summit Café now that she didn’t have youth group responsibilities to weigh her down.
Apparently, Pastor Hayes had taken her resignation to heart. She’d half hoped someone might call and beg her to return. She’d even kept her cell phone charged in the faint hope of a text.
Nope.
Clearly, everyone—from the parents, to the youth group, Josh, and even Sam—sighed in relief when she walked out of their lives.