Page 29 of More Than Words (Trickle Creek: The Lyons #2)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Delaney

T hat morning, I’d come up with a dozen different ways to get out of it.

And then promptly rejected them all.

Besides, getting out of the shop and my tiny apartment would do me good. I knew that.

I’d been avoiding…well, everyone and everything since Ethan and I blew up.

I knew I couldn’t hide forever.

Still, it wasn’t going to be easy to be at a town-wide fundraising event with every eye on me and Ethan. And it wouldn’t just be Tilley Beckett sticking her nose into our business.

It would be everyone.

There was no way that the news of our breakup hadn’t traveled all around town by now. I hadn’t missed the whispers and knowing glances.

If there had been any way to get out of it, I would have.

“Delaney! There you are!” Tilley called out moments after I stepped inside the community hall. She swept across the old wood floor in a flurry of shawls. She waved her clipboard in the air. “Perfect timing. I need one more set of hands sorting and tagging the new donations. Are you okay with that?”

I didn’t have a chance to answer, not that it would have mattered. Tilley always had her own agenda; everyone just kind of went along with it, and somehow things always got done.

“Great!” She grabbed my arm, spinning me around. “Ethan, dear! I found you a partner. You’re with Delaney.”

I blinked. What?

In a town full of people, what were the odds I would get paired up in a fundraiser with Ethan Lyons? It was a rhetorical question, because the answer was currently smiling and fluttering her eyelashes at me expectantly.

“Is that okay, Delaney?”

“Of course.” I put the most neutral expression on my face that I could manage. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Great.” Tilley took my elbow and led me over to where Ethan was surrounded by what looked like dozens of boxes of jackets and other items of clothing. “Ethan can fill you in on what needs to be done.” She gave me a wink. “Have fun, you two.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice low. “I didn’t know you’d volunteered for this, too.”

I nodded. “Anything for the community, right?”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Right.”

“So,” I picked up a pair of socks, “what are we doing here?”

With the work as a buffer between everything we weren’t saying to each other, Ethan took a few minutes to explain the simple task of sorting the socks and sweaters into different boxes by size and gender.

We settled into the work. All around us, the fundraiser buzzed with energy. People were laughing and chatting while children chased one another around the coat racks. And of course, Tilley was in the middle of it all with her clipboard, like she was planning a military operation.

I focused on the work.

Ethan set his box down next to mine. “These gloves are barely used. Maybe someone bought them and changed their mind.”

“It happens.” I lifted a scarf from the pile. “This one looks brand-new, too.”

“Maybe the same person.” Ethan shrugged.

I nodded.

We fell into an uneasy silence.

“I saw the book tree in the shop window,” he said after a few minutes, quieter now. “It looks really cool.”

“Thanks.” I’d worked on the book tree over a few days and was really happy with how it’d turned out.

“I’ve been wanting to do one for years,” I said.

“I just never had enough time to get all my decorating done and do the tree.” I trailed off, because he and Quinn, and their extra help, was the reason I had enough time this year.

“Well, it looks great. Perfect for your shop.”

I nodded and grabbed a coat. “The holiday season is coming fast.”

Ethan chuckled a little. “Don’t rush it. It’s only the middle of November.”

I shrugged and tried not to smile. It was too easy to fall into a natural rhythm with him. “After Halloween, it’s all Christmas. All the time.”

“I am releasing a winter lager next week, does that count?”

I gave him a soft smile. “It does.”

Another silence. Longer this time.

He picked up a coat and cleared his throat. “Business is good?”

I nodded. “Steady, which is good. I think the book tree helps.”

“I’m sure it does.” He smiled and looked like he might say something more. “You’re really good at that stuff. Inviting people in.”

His eyes met mine, and for a second, it felt normal again. The way things used to be.

I hated how much I missed that easiness between us.

He shifted and took a step closer. “Delaney, look?—”

“It’s fine,” I cut in quickly, forcing my attention back to the box. “We’re neighbors. It doesn’t have to be weird.”

“It does feel weird, doesn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to,” I said too fast. “We’re just volunteering here, Ethan. Let’s just…let’s just get this done.”

He didn’t speak for a beat and then finally nodded slowly. “Okay. Let’s just do this.”

I hated how distant I sounded. How cold and unfeeling I was being. The truth was, I had too many feelings. Working so close to him was torture. I just needed to get through it and get away before I forgot how he’d hurt me and I let myself feel anything more.

We sorted without talking for a few more minutes. The silence between us built until it was almost too much.

“The kids’ jackets either look brand-new, like they were outgrown before they were worn, or they look a little too well-loved. There doesn’t seem to be much in between.”

“I can tell you from experience,” Ethan said, “there is no in-between when it comes to kids’ clothes. Half the winter jackets I’ve bought for Quinn over the years were returned before she ever got to wear them.”

I gave him a tight smile.

“I saw her the other day,” I offered finally. “She came into the shop.”

“She told me.”

That surprised me, although I wasn’t sure why. “I told her to come by whenever. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

There were so many things I wanted to say, but I needed to protect myself. The wound was still too raw. Instead, I nodded. “Okay, good.”

There was nothing else I could say, not without breaking down.

I turned and gave all my attention to the remaining items in my box.

The sooner we finished our pile, the sooner I could escape.

He didn’t push again or offer any more conversation.

We finished our job in silence.

And it had never felt louder.

Ethan

The second I stepped outside into the brisk November day, I could breathe, and it had nothing to do with the fresh air.

Working side by side with Delaney for the afternoon had been torture. All I wanted to do was pull her into my arms, tell her how sorry I was about…well, everything. But every time the words were about to come out of my mouth, I stopped myself.

Not because I didn’t want to tell her those things. I did. More than anything.

But I needed to do it right. I’d already been a giant idiot.

I knew I was only going to get one shot at making it better. And I wasn’t going to blow it by fumbling over my words in the middle of the Jacket Racket fundraiser, surrounded by the entire town.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and started to walk toward the plaza. I hadn’t intended to go back to the brewery; my staff handled things just fine without me. But I needed to move. I needed to think.

Delaney’s voice echoed in my head: “We’re neighbors. It doesn’t have to be weird.”

Weird?

It wasn’t just weird. It was awful.

And it wasn’t just what she said. It was the way she’d said it. Her voice was tight and controlled and not…Delaney.

I missed what we’d had with a ferocity that caused a physical pain in my gut.

I crossed the street and turned toward the plaza.

Soon, the town would light up every tree and storefront, creating a winter wonderland in Trickle Creek’s annual Merry and Bright Night.

But for now, Plot Twist was the only bright festive spot in the plaza, her front window display proudly boasting all things Christmas.

I couldn’t help but smile at her commitment to the holidays, no matter what anyone else, myself included, said about it being too early.

Peaks & Brews seemed dull by comparison as I stepped through the doors.

Not that anyone was complaining. There were a few tables of customers laughing and talking, enjoying their beers.

Jeff, my assistant manager and best employee, was handling things behind the bar with a friendly smile for everyone.

He lifted his hand in greeting, but he must have read the expression on my face and left me alone as I moved to the far end of the bar and took a seat.

I spun around to take it all in. The brewery was everything I’d imagined it would be. Steady customers. A solid lineup of delicious brews. A positive bottom line.

But sitting there, alone, none of it felt the way it should have.

I leaned back against the smooth wood and crossed my arms.

Today had been just one more reminder about how badly I’d screwed up the best thing I’d ever had.

I knew there was logic in waiting for the time to be right, and picking my moment and all of that.

But I couldn’t help but worry that the longer I waited, the higher the risk that I wouldn’t be able to come back from my fuckup.

I couldn’t risk it.

I pulled my phone from my back pocket and hit my brother’s number.

“Reid,” I said when he answered. “Where are you on that project?”

“I still have?—”

“I need it finished.” I cut him off. “Yesterday.”

He blew out a breath that turned into a chuckle. “I can’t go back in time, brother.”

“Don’t I know it,” I muttered under my breath and then to Reid said, “I can come by the shop tomorrow and help. I need it done, Reid. As quickly as possible.”

He was silent for a moment before I heard him blow out a breath. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do about speeding things up. But I’m pretty sure having you lurking over my shoulder isn’t going to make anything go any faster.”