Page 9 of Legends: Easton (Legends of Fire Creek #3)

“Living life also means change. I’m not the same person I’ve always been, and I don’t think I can completely go back to who I used to be.

I don’t know if I want to. I have a lot to figure out, and I think being here will help me do that.

That’s all I can promise right now. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you. ”

Darby Anne smiled and shook her head. “No, sweetheart. You couldn’t disappoint me. You’re brave and strong, and when you come out on the other side of what you’re going through, you’ll realize the experience has made you braver and stronger. You know I’m right.”

Bailee pushed her plate away, stood, and crossed the room to hug and kiss Darby Anne. “You always are. That’s why I love you.”

Darby Anne returned the embrace. “I love you, too.”

∞∞∞

Easton jerked awake, his body sitting upright, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn’t at his hip. He blinked the last remnants of sleep from his foggy mind as he tried to figure out what disturbed his slumber.

A banging noise sounded outside his window, making him scowl. His body felt heavy with fatigue that three hours of sleep had not dispelled, but his heart raced, ensuring he wouldn’t fall back asleep anytime soon.

Falling asleep in the first place had been difficult enough. Too wired after his chance meeting with Bailee, he’d showered and then settled on his couch to unwind with a beer. He watched some comedy show on his big screen television for a while before deciding to read instead.

Sleep must have claimed him while he had his nose in a book. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and he found the evidence to support his suspicions when his foot bumped against the discarded book as he moved to stand.

As the family techie, Luke made fun of him for reading physical books when e-readers were more practical. Easton owned one, but the feel of a book in his hands, the sound of the pages turning, the scent of the print on the paper…well, there was nothing like it to him.

Becoming lost in a story, transporting himself to an imaginary place along with the characters, had been his saving grace growing up. When his chaotic life overwhelmed him, he could temporarily forget about it while he read.

He moved to the great room window to gaze out at his usually quiet neighborhood.

He wasn’t sure of the time, but bright sunshine and lack of vehicles in nearby driveways told him the hour wasn’t too early if his neighbors were already out and about.

Parents would be at work, children at school, and the retired at their daily pursuits.

Since he was a light sleeper and a night owl, he appreciated the quiet mornings.

The sight out of his window both surprised him and satisfied his curiosity about what woke him. A slow smile curved his lips, and he leaned against the wall to enjoy the view.

Bailee stood in the front yard, wearing cutoff denim shorts and a plain T-shirt.

She traded a hammer for a paintbrush and went to work on the porch banister, coating it with fresh paint.

Easton enjoyed watching her forearm flex with the up and down motion.

When she stretched to reach a higher part of the banister, her shorts rode up, revealing shapely legs.

Most of her dark hair was secured in a ponytail with the shorter hairs that weren’t long enough to fit in the hairband brushing against her neck.

The style emphasized her pronounced cheekbones and square jaw.

His gaze traveled to her round ass and flared hips showcased by her cutoffs.

His cock stirred at the sight, and he debated his next move.

He had errands he needed to run, and he should probably sneak in a catnap before his shift at the bar.

He could usually function with minimal sleep, but being Friday night, the customers would be out in full force ready to start their weekend.

He needed to be at his best, but then there was a beautiful woman working right next door whom he was anxious to get to know better.

He could almost hear his brothers’ voices in his head, telling him not to shit where he slept. Bailee was Darby Anne’s granddaughter. Darby Anne was his neighbor. Hell, she was the first friend he had when he moved into the neighborhood.

Oddly, though he had little in common with the residents in the subdivision, they’d all become friends in some form or fashion. He liked them, respected them. Getting involved with the relative of one of them was asking for things to get messy.

Even as his brain issued the warning, his legs were moving through his kitchen. He snagged two bottles of ice-cold water from his fridge. Then he sauntered out the front door and crossed the expanse of yard separating his house from his neighbor’s.

Roxy noticed him first. The beast of a dog was asleep on the porch swing, but her head popped up at his approach.

Bailee hadn’t noticed him. He heard faint sounds of music and realized the song blaring through her earbuds prevented her from hearing his approach.

He moved into her line of vision just as she was completing a downward stroke with the paintbrush.

He held out one of the waters and flashed his most congenial smile while he waited for her to accept it.

Bailee held the brush away from her with one hand while removing an earbud with the other. Her expression was priceless, a mixture of surprise and suspicion. He caught her off guard, and he liked it. Oh, yeah, getting to know Bailee was going to be fun.

“What are you doing?” Her question was abrupt, a crease appearing in the space above her nose between her dark, perfectly arched eyebrows.

“I saw you out here working and wanted to offer a good morning with some water. The Alabama humidity is tough this time of year, so it’s better to stay hydrated before the temperature gets too high.”

She motioned her hand toward an insulated bottle on the porch. “I have water, and I know what the summers around here are like. I grew up visiting Gran and Pops every summer. I may not live here, but I’m not a stranger to Fire Creek.”

Ouch. Easton backed up a bit, his smile losing some of its brightness. “I meant no offense. I swear. It’s just around here, if we see a neighbor working on something and we have the time, we offer help, whether it’s bringing them water or picking up a paintbrush.”

Bailee’s sigh was deep, as if it rose from her bone marrow to escape her full, pouty lips. She gently dropped her paintbrush onto a tray, removed her second earbud, and dropped the devices in the pocket of her shorts.

“It’s Easton, right?” Her hands landed on her rounded hips as she waited for his answer.

She knew his name, so he guessed her question was more to create a distance between them than to confirm she remembered correctly. Easton steeled himself for what was coming.

Her tone made him think of his early days of living with English. He’d been a prankster who loved pushing limits just to see how long it took to push people away. In his experience, they never stayed, and he’d rather the reason be his shenanigans than the fact they didn’t want him around.

English often called him out on his bullshit back then. The older man never left or sent him packing, and neither had his brothers. But a small part of Easton would never stop expecting people to leave him behind.

“Easton Hargrove. Look, Bailee—”

“Let me properly introduce myself. I’m Bailee Maxwell.

You already know that Darby Anne is my grandmother and undeniably one of my favorite people on the planet.

She has told me about you, how you look out for her, mow her yard, take care of things around the house, drive her places if she doesn’t want to drive herself.

I appreciate all of that, and knowing you do that tells me you’re probably a very nice guy. But—”

“I’m not sure I want you to finish that sentence,” he admitted sourly, and he thought he saw her lips twitch as if she was fighting a smile.

“But the whole charming, flirtatious, sexy vibe you’ve got going on is lost on me.

I come with baggage so heavy you and your brothers combined couldn’t carry it.

I don’t know how long I’ll be here. It could be a couple of days.

It could be a while. So while I’m here, I prefer to avoid any complications or problems or drama.

I have enough of that in my life already.

I don’t need to add to it, especially when it could make things awkward for Gran. ”

Just like that, a switch flipped for Easton. He had a knack for being able to shift his personality to be whatever people needed him to be. No one taught him the skill. He’d cultivated it out of necessity, and he was grateful for it in this moment.

His attraction was still there because Bailee was hot as hell, but now his respect for her overshadowed that. He sensed she could use a friend, and he suddenly felt a need to be that friend.

He caught and held her gaze. Her eyes were the same dark brown that reminded him of hot chocolate — warm, tempting, and comforting. This time, his smile was more friendly and less flirty, showing his even white teeth and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Welcome back to Fire Creek. While you’re staying with Darby Anne, I consider you as much my neighbor as she is.

And around here, we don’t look to make things awkward or difficult for our neighbors.

We look to help out where we can and support each other.

So I guess that’s why I’m here. I’m offering my help for a few hours while you’re working on the house.

If you don’t need my help, I’m offering my company.

If you don’t want that, then I’ll say goodbye and look forward to the next time we can talk.

But to put your worries at ease, that’s all I’m offering. Just friendship.”

Bailee seemed to consider him for a moment, and he forced himself not to squirm under her intense scrutiny.

He wasn’t sure why he cared if she accepted him or not.

He gave up craving acceptance from other people after his father abandoned him to make it on his own.

But here he was, holding his breath, waiting for her to decide to accept or reject him.

“There’s another paintbrush in the bag on the porch.

I’m waiting to do the railings around the front steps until last, so Roxy doesn’t brush against them when she goes up and down from the porch.

She’s found a home on the swing for now, but she lives to roam, and I don’t want to have to get paint out of her fur later. ”

“Sounds like a plan.” Easton tried not to wince at his lame response.

He took two steps at a time to reach the porch. He walked over to scratch behind Roxy’s ears, earning an enthusiastic tail wag for his trouble, and then he grabbed the paintbrush.

He took a position opposite her and went to work. “How’s the ankle, by the way?”

“It’s fine.”

When she didn’t elaborate, he took the cue and concentrated on the task at hand instead of conversation. They worked quietly for several minutes. The morning sun beat warm rays against his back, and sweat beaded on his skin. He stopped once to chug some water before resuming work.

He hated painting. The monotonous motion was too tedious to hold his interest, and he wished he’d changed clothes before coming over. The old, worn T-shirt would probably look better with a little paint spatter, but his joggers were his favorite pair, offering the highest comfort level.

If his brothers could see him now, the teasing he’d have to endure would rival some of the most effective torture techniques.

When Darby Anne stepped out the door, he smiled to have a reprieve. The older woman stopped and blinked in his direction, and he grinned at her obvious surprise.

“Good morning, Easton. I didn’t expect to see you up and about so early. I hope Bailee Anne didn’t wake you with her home improvements.”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Her arresting eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she withdrew her keys from the patterned purse slung across her body to hang at her hip. “You fell asleep reading again. Didn’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good book?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Darby Anne nodded. “Well, then I expect to borrow it once you’re finished.”

His grin widened. “Yes, ma’am.”

She returned his smile before swinging her gaze to her granddaughter. “I’m going to meet my friend, Becky, in town, and I’ll probably be gone most of the day. You’re sure you’ll be fine on your own?”

“You do realize I live on my own, right?” Bailee’s teasing smile removed any bite from her words.

“How’s your ankle?” Darby Anne asked as if her granddaughter hadn’t spoken.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Go and have fun with your friend. Bring her back by the time you guys finish. I’d love to meet her.”

“Say hello to Becky for me,” Easton added, affection swelling his heart at hearing Becky Lathan’s name.

“I certainly will,” Darby Anne said with a flourish. “Thank you for helping Bailee Anne. I know you have to be exhausted after last night’s adventure.”

He shrugged off the appreciation. “Anytime, ma’am. You ladies have a good day and be careful.”

Darby Anne climbed down the porch steps and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’re a good boy, Easton.” Then she turned to Bailee and kissed her cheek as well. “I love you, Bailee Anne. Call me if you need anything while I’m out.”

“Love you, too, Gran. Have fun.”

Neither of them resumed their painting until Darby Anne backed her car out of the driveway and headed down the road. Easton turned back to the task at hand, pleased with the progress they’d made because maybe they’d soon be finished with it.

“How do you know Gran’s friend?”

He whipped his head around to find Bailee watching him curiously. He smiled before dipping his brush into paint and using the tray to wipe off any excess. “You mean, other than the fact we live in a small town, and everyone knows everyone else?”

Something in her eyes shuttered, and she averted her eyes. “Right.”

Easton suddenly felt like he’d lost something important, but he had no idea what that could be or what just happened. Eager to get their camaraderie back on track, he flashed her his best charming smile.

“It’s a long story, but I’ve known Becky a long time.”

She cut her eyes back at him and nodded. “Well, we have some time, and it might be nice to have some conversation while we work.”

And with that, Easton felt like he’d passed an important test he didn’t know he was taking.