Page 8 of Finding Home (Willow Valley #1)

EIGHT

CHLOE

“ G ood morning,” I singsong as I walk into my parents’ kitchen, where Dad is sitting reading the paper and Mom is standing at the counter measuring flour into a bowl.

“Morning, Sweetheart,” Mom says as I kiss her cheek before rounding the kitchen table and wrapping my arms around Dad.

“Hi, Daddy.”

He pats the top of my arm, and I squeeze him again.

I’ve always been close with my parents. They were always there for Grayson and me when we were growing up.

Even when things got bad, they were there to guide us through instead of trying to punish us.

I always felt safe with them, and I think that’s why I came home after school.

Not just realizing I disliked the city, but also how much I missed my parents and that feeling of home.

“Hi, baby girl. How are you?”

“I’m good,” I say, kissing his cheek before grabbing my apron from its usual spot and throwing it on. “How are you feeling? Have you been following your diet and getting your exercise?”

Dad looks at me over the top of his paper.

He doesn’t like all of us fussing over him since his heart attack.

Mom’s mentioned not only Grayson has called and checked in, but Hannah has, too.

Add in Mom, and he constantly has someone asking how he’s feeling or making sure he’s following his doctor’s orders .

“Yes, dear.” He folds his newspaper and puts it on the table before giving me his full attention. “How was the first week back?”

I smile. Dad’s always made sure that when we talk he gives me his full attention so I know he cares.

No matter how busy life gets or what’s going on, he wants to know what’s going on with me and wants me to know I matter.

I give him my full attention in return, pushing myself up on the counter and crossing my legs at the ankles.

“Good. They’re all super excited to be back in school. We’re just getting into the swing of the things, but I think it’s going to be a good year.”

He nods. “Have you talked to Grayson? I know he was wanting to know how it went.”

“Yup. Called him after school on Friday. It was a short call, him and Hannah were working night shift, so he didn’t have a lot of time.”

“Hopefully they get off those night shifts soon,” Mom says. “I know your brother hates them. They seem to eat at him more than the morning or day shift.”

I make eye contact with her and say, “Hannah,” and that’s all she needs to smile and nod, knowing how head over heels he is for his new wife. We both know the entire reason he started working night shifts was because of her and wanting to spend as much time as he can with her.

“So, what are we making this morning?” I ask Mom as Dad focuses back on his paper.

“We’re doing a double batch each of chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies. I heard Beau’s back in town and thought that boy needed some of his favourite cookies.”

I gnaw my lip. Mom’s always been one to help take care of everyone in town.

Cooking and baking for families in need and always being there to support people when they hit hard times.

As much as I feel for Aspen and how Beau did her wrong all those years ago, after seeing him on Friday, I can tell his time in the service was not a walk in the park.

Now that he’s home, he’s going to need all the support he can get.

I push off the counter and stand beside Mom. “Tell me what to do.”

Mom and I work together effortlessly. Sharing ingredients and talking as we make large batches of cookies. Mom tsks me when I snag a bit of raw cookie dough, but when I grin widely, she shakes her head and continues shaping the balls of dough.

As we’re packing the cookies into containers, Mom asks, “So, what are you going to do now that Beau is back? I’m assuming Diane’s asked for the studio back for him.”

I nod. “I’ll figure something out. She mentioned something about him camping for a couple weeks, wanting to be by himself. I’m hoping to find something before the end of the month. It’s supposed to be temporary; James is working on building his house now.”

“You can always come back home.”

I shake my head. “As much as I love you and Dad, I need to be out on my own. I’m sure something will pop up.”

“Okay. As long as you know your room here is always there for you,” Mom says.

I wrap my arms around her and lay my head on her shoulder. “Thanks, Mom.”

She pats my head, and I release her. She stacks three tins and hands them to me. “The top two go to the fire station, and the bottom one is for Beau.”

“I’m not sure where Beau is,” I say, and Mom waves me off.

“That boy will be in town at some point, just keep them in your car. You’ll see him.”

I shake my head. She’s right, if he ventures into town, I’m bound to see him. You can’t do much here and not be seen.

I grab the tins and kiss Mom on the cheek before scratching Mickey on the head and calling out bye to Dad then heading to the station.

I roll the windows down and turn up the music as I make my way back into town.

As I turn the corner into the fire station, “I Had Some Help” by Post Malone and Morgan Wallen comes on and I start jamming to it.

Ryder steps out and leans against the open bay door, crossing his legs at the ankles and his arms over his chest as he grins at me.

Turning the car off, but leaving the battery on, I turn the music up and get out, pointing at him. He pushes off the wall and makes his way towards me, offering his hand, and I take it as he pulls me into him, and we start dancing as we sing the song loudly and off key.

Ryder’s a friend I’ve known for years because of my brother. He’s a playboy and has made his way through most of the local women and lot of the tourists that come through. We’ll never be more than friends, but he’s fun, indulging me when I want to let loose.

When the song finishes, we laugh, and I reach across the passenger seat to turn off the car and grab the containers of cookies.

When I turn around, Everett is at the bay doors, feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over his chest in some broody stance.

My mouth opens slightly as he stares at me.

The way his shirt pulls across his chest and those pants fit him should be illegal.

And while it may not be illegal, these thoughts I’m having about him are not okay.

I’m his daughter’s teacher. We need to keep this relationship strictly professional.

Nope, I shouldn’t even use the word relationship.

Friendship.

Nope, not that, because I’m not sure I could just be friends with him. I’d go digging, trying to get to know him more, and that’s not good.

Acquaintanceship.

That’s it. Nothing more.

I smile at the rest of the guys and hold the tins up in front of me. “I come baring goodies!”

“Hell yeah,” I hear Ryder say, and the guys rub their hands together as they make their ways towards me. I shake my head, and they all stop.

“I know you all were raised better than that,” I say, and they give me sheepish looks.

“Come in, Chlo,” Ryder says, and his hand finds my lower back as I thank him and he leads me inside.

I feel Everett’s gaze intensify the second Ryder’s hand finds my back.

I offer him what I intend to be a soft smile, but I have a feeling is a little more on the flirtatious side.

I feel his eyes track our movements as Ryder leads me into the common area and I place the tins on the table, opening both of them.

I quickly nab two cookies before the guys descend.

I extract myself from the group of men hoarded around the cookies and make my way towards Everett, who’s lingering at the edge of the room.

I hold out one of the two cookies to him, and he raises a brow at it.

I flick my wrist towards him. “Take it. My mom and I made them. She often bakes things for the guys. If you don’t get one early, you won’t get one at all. ”

He takes it and grunts his thanks, taking a small bite. I swear I see his eyes widen slightly before he schools his expression again.

“How are you liking being chief?”

“Fine,” he grunts, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re gonna make me sound like a broken record. You know you can engage in conversation.”

“I’m good,” he says, and I huff a laugh.

Ryder comes over with a cookie in hand and passes it to me. “I managed to snag you an extra for the trip home.”

I smile at him. “Thanks, Ry.”

“I saw Beau yesterday,” he says.

I nod. “Yeah. I saw him, too.” I point at him. “Don’t you dare say a fuckin’ word to Aspen, but he was at Incahoots, he walked in and left and I followed him out.”

Ryder inhales. “Same time?” he asks.

I nod. “Like down on one knee and he walked in the door.”

“Damn.”

“Yup.”

“So is Beau going to be moving in?” Ryder asks, and I swear I feel Everett stiffen beside me.

“That’s the plan. I’ll figure something out.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” he says before kissing my cheek and walking away.

The silence that lingers between Everett and me is tense, like anything could snap it.

“This Beau your boyfriend?” Everett finally asks, and I laugh. I laugh so loudly the other guys look our way before quickly turning back to what they were doing when Everett levels them with a look.

I shake my head. “No, Beau is not my boyfriend. He’s a friend. He just got back from his enlistment. His mother owns the café, and in turn my apartment. Beau’s going to be moving in, and I’m looking for something else.”

Everett stiffens. “They’re just kicking you out?” He sounds outraged and protective at the same time.

“I’ve known Beau was coming home for a while, Diane gave me the heads up. Worse comes to worse, I can stay at my parents’. Beau hasn’t been back to town since he left. Moving in with his parents would be too much. He needs to ease back into everything, so he needs his own place.”

“So, he’s not going to live with you?” he asks, sounding almost relieved.

I bite the corner of my lip and turn to face him. “Why, Everett? Would that make you jealous? Do you not like the thought of me living with another man?”

He keeps his barriers up, not showing anything on his face, but the tension in his body sends heat through me, because that tells me he does have negative feelings at the thought of me living with another man.

I chuckle. “Relax, Mr. Grump,” I say patting his peck. “I’m not living with Beau.”

I turn and call, “Ry, I’m heading out.”

He waves, and I head back out to my car.