Page 44 of Just a Plot Twist (Tate Brothers #7)

Claire

“Welcome to the Beacon Trail clean up! I appreciate everyone who came out to support. If you have any questions, let me know.”

I survey the landscape, the scraggly brush encroaching at every side.

We have a group of volunteers and a paid crew, as well, on this fine Saturday morning.

They’re all in work gloves and old clothes and wielding various landscaping implements.

It’s all-hands-on-deck for this project—my first public thing since I officially started my new job.

None of this is how I thought it would be.

“I’ve got the trash bags,” Sophie says, approaching me with a bunch of black lawn bags tied around her waist like a belt.

“Points for creativity. ”

“This way I can clean up and carry the bags.” She whips around to show me her back. “I jimmy rigged it so that it will be easy to tear one off.” She gives the line of bags a tentative tug. “Unless it all falls apart.”

“Thanks, Sophie.” I laugh, but nothing’s reaching me right now. The feelings I predicted I’d have as we start this project are nowhere to be found. They’ve been stolen away by this: How is Benson? Does he miss me, too?

Thankfully, these first couple of days on the job have been so jam-packed that I haven’t had much time to feel his absence.

I’m lying. I do feel his absence—the negative space he left around me.

I manage to assign everyone a job. We have some people carrying their own bags and others with rakes and hoes and an assortment of things to dig up thistles, cut back the growth, and clear out the path. And then, there’s Sophie, who’s hoping to do both.

Without warning, I get a little weepy. I’m so grateful to her and to everyone here. And a nice bonus is Rich is even out of town this weekend. Wahoo!

But I miss Benson. And I don’t know where we stand or who’s supposed to contact whom in this whole scenario. We played phone tag and then…nothing.

We’re in a stand still. What does he want? I know exactly what I want, but I’m trying to be patient until my right path is clear.

I’m here, though. I’m still standing. I’m strong, and if I focus on the work, I can make it through this, right?

And I’ll stop by his place when we’re done—no more waiting around. I can’t stay long, though, because I have a flight to Indianapolis to catch. It’s my first work trip and I’m ridiculously excited to attend a conference for city managers. I’m going to totally geek out over it all .

“I’ll head up the rear,” I say to the trail guide, Al—the same guy who was on that first hike of the season. I lift up my ankle, giving a sheepish smile. It’s a lot better, but I still need to be cautious when taking the trail.

“I’ll go up first then,” Al says with a nod, surveying the land on either side of the trail.

“Thanks for being here,” I say.

“The decline of these trails has been a slippery slope for years.” Al grins with a start.

“Pun intended.” He darts a glance in my direction.

“Our little band of hikers has tried our best, but cleaning all this up has been outside of our scope.” He adjusts the brim of his hat.

“Now, thanks to you, things are heading in a better direction.”

“I can’t take all the credit. The city council approved some extra funds, so that’s made a big difference.”

He smiles wide. I’m not sure what I said to make him smile so much, but hey I’ll take it. But then, he tilts his head to look behind me. “Well, look who’s here.”

Why does he sound so weird? Like, expectant? Surprised?

I swear to you I smell him before I see him.

Not the president of the hiking club. I smell Benson. That clean musk I adore.

I turn and now I’m the one who’s shocked.

Because it’s not just Benson, he brought his whole family. His whole “Adonis is ugly compared to the Tate brothers” family. I scan the crowd, and it looks like it’s everyone. Even Thomas and Celine.

“Bens?” I breathe.

His smile is barely there. “How are you, Claire?” His voice is soft. Almost reverent. As if he can’t believe it’s actually me after all this time .

To be fair, it’s only been a couple days.

Or a thousand.

I step to him and grasp his hands. I want to squeeze him in one of those full-body, bear hugs, but I’m in charge around here. The prying eyes of my co-workers abound, and I need to stay professional, right?

“I’m good now,” I say. “How are you?”

He gives a slow smile. “Better now. Congrats on the job. You got things up and going right away.” He gestures to the crowd of people watching the new arrivals with interest.

The Tate family does cause a stir.

I lift a shoulder. “I’ve been planning for this moment for a long time.”

“Do you have spreadsheets about it?”

My cheeks are instantly hot. “Maybe.”

“A woman has to be prepared.” One corner of his mouth lifts in another smile.

Al’s giving instruction on identifying the thistles so it’s easier to deal with them,

and we take a moment to step behind a tree. “I called you,” I say, my voice slipping into uncertainty.

“I called you, too.” A heartbeat. “I should have left a message. I wasn’t sure what

you wanted, but I should have.”

“I didn’t know what you wanted, either.” I dip my chin and then meet his dark,

searching gaze. “I should have kept trying to get a hold of you.”

“There’s a lot to say. ”

And do , I almost add. Like, what does a woman have to do to be able to hug a guy around here?

I feel the eyes upon us. The crew and volunteers are ready to go and everyone, including the trail guide, is waiting for me to kick this off.

But I don’t care. They all can wait three seconds while I give the man I love a hug, right?

It turns out to be a few more seconds than three, but far too soon, I break away and turn back to the crowd.

“Let’s get started, everybody! And thanks again.”

That’s the only signal the hiking club president needs, as he steps back and motions wide. “Grab your tools and let’s head up. Watch the trail tread. If you notice any issues with anything that you’re not able to take care of yourself, please alert me or Ms. Lawson.”

The group begins their ascent, and Benson and I stay back and watch people pass us. I begin thanking his family, and I’m emotional again at the big grins coming from all of them.

My sister’s smile is especially big.

“Soph, you knew about this?”

She traps her lip with her teeth and nods. “It was all Benson’s idea. He got everybody to come out.”

“You’ve doubled our numbers. Thanks so much.”

“I’m excited for you.” And when Sophie clutches my forearm before moving on, the look in her eye tells me she’s excited about more than my new job—more than this project. She means something else entirely. My gut thrums with wonder .

When she passes, Thomas and Celine make their way to us. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot,” I say and then Benson hugs Celine and does one of those guy pats on Thomas’s back.

“I’m not in the greatest hiking shape, but I’ll try,” Thomas says, glancing at a smiling Celine.

“We wouldn’t have missed it, Claire,” Celine assures me, stepping in to hug me.

After they pass, Gabriel, River, and River’s sister, Skye, greet us.

“It’s Lunch Lady Liz,” Skye informs me in a very matter of fact way, as she pulls out the hem of her pink, sparkly t-shirt. Its entire front is covered in an image of a King Charles Cavalier, complete with a shiny crown and scepter.

“She’s an adorable dog!” I give Skye a fist bump.

“Skye’s friends at the care center made the t-shirt for her,” River says.

“Hey, you’re pregnant,” I say to River. “If you want to stay behind and help in other ways, I under—”

“Oh, I’m coming. Gabriel says if I get too tired, the three of us will turn back and finish early. Besides, we’re the water crew.” She points to the matching backpacks that Gabriel and Skye are wearing.

“You have water bottles in there?”

“Of course! I got a pass on that because of the baby. But Skye insisted on carrying one. A few others have them, as well. We all gotta stay hydrated, right, Skye?”

Skye nods and starts to sling her bag off her shoulder.

“Is it getting too heavy?” Benson asks as he takes it from Skye. “I’ve got it for a while.” He takes the backpack and easily slings it over one shoulder, like it isn’t weighed down by at least a dozen water bottles .

Be still my heart.

We bring up the rear, and thankfully, this trail is wide enough that two of us can walk up in unison.

“I’m still so shocked, Benson. How is it that like a dozen Tate family members managed to be available today? I’m in awe of it, frankly.”

“Me, too. Glad it all worked out.”

I want to ask how he’s doing, for real. And I want to tell him I miss him…and just…everything. But there are too many people around. “Well, I’m sure it wasn’t easy getting everyone all together.” I pause. “Benson, Sophie told me about your donation.”

“It’s not from me. It’s from Foundations.”

I smirk. “But that’s you. Also? I thought your father was taking it back?”

“Gabriel and I talked to him. He changed his mind.”

“It made it possible for us to work on the trail. Without it—”

“Without it, you would have found another way to make it all work. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

A smile tickles my lips, but like always lately, I think of Grandma and my smile disappears.

It feels disloyal to be happy when she isn’t.

I need to tell Benson about her diagnosis, but right now out in public like this, is not the time.

I have to soon, though. I stick to a brighter topic.

“Are Dax and Indie back at home with Cinnamon?”

He frowns, tossing me a wary look. “No. They’re hanging out at the resort for now. And actually, Cinnamon’s gone.”

I stop and blood drains from my face as I grab his bicep. “What do you mean, she’s gone? ”

“Don’t give me that look. She’s still very much alive and kicking, she’s just…not alive and kicking with the Kilpack family anymore.” He sighs, shooting me a glance.

“What? Did Reggie…?”

“His grandkids came a couple of days ago.”

“Oh, no. And you miss her! I can see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t miss the whole drinking water issue and the medications and the special diet and the—”

“Stop. You miss her.”

He doesn’t respond, so I keep going. “I’m sorry you couldn’t keep her. Do you think there’s any chance you could get her back?”

“I would like to get her back.” But his tone of voice and the way he’s looking at me tell me he’s not just talking about Cinnamon anymore. My heart flip flops, but I’m here, on the job, and we’re not alone. There’s nothing I can do.

But suddenly, I just know. There is something I can do for Benson. I have to at least try.

“Claire, believe me when I say—”

In the distance, one of the crew members starts a chainsaw, so I don’t hear the last part of his sentence.

Ugh. Maybe I should tell the crew they can go home. We have far more important things happening up in here.

“What?” I cup a hand behind my ear.

He motions like he’s trying to sign something to me. And then mouths, “I’ll tell you later.”

Later. Maybe there really will be a “later “with Benson after all.

Will there be an “always” with him, too?