Page 11 of One Chance to Stay (Bears of Firefly Valley #4)

Jason: Are you alive?

Amanda: Did you freeze to death?

Amanda: Again?

Jon: Aren’t you all nosy?

Jon: I bet he has a lady friend.

Amanda: I vote frozen.

Patrick: I’m alive.

I knew better than to give them any hint of where I had been or who I had been with.

They were crafty, hiding their nosiness in their…

well… nosiness. I shoved the phone in my pocket as it continued vibrating.

Sitting back in the leather chair, I focused my attention on the glow of fake logs in the fireplace.

Getting away from people in a small town, especially in winter, had proven a challenge.

The coffee shop had been bustling, and even the bistro filled up.

As much as I loved the people here, I needed a quiet moment to collect myself.

I had slipped into the library with my coffee, and Tyler hadn’t said a word while he worked at his desk.

I sipped my latte, enjoying the stillness.

It reminded me of the view from the top of the mountain.

From my seat, I could see thousands of books, much like the trees in the valley.

I couldn’t help but chuckle when I realized those trees had become the pages of these tomes.

I settled in, sinking into the chair until I became part of the scenery.

Quiet contemplation.

To my dismay or relief, this morning I woke to an empty bed.

Seamus had gotten up long before me. We skipped the awkward small talk.

I lay in bed, a jumble of thoughts. Would we talk again?

Was I gay? Or worse yet, was it cliche if I said I might be gay for Seamus?

I came to Firefly hoping to figure out my next step in life, and all I did was kick the hornet’s nest and bring a whirlwind of unanswerable questions.

At least I’m pretty sure I went above and beyond paying him back.

Okay, put my less-than-rigid sexuality aside.

This all started because of my fascination with Seamus.

Why? He might have a prickly exterior, but why did I insist on pushing that boundary?

I could lie and say it had something to do with him saving me, but truth be told, something about his kindness and delivery didn’t align.

I got out of bed searching for my underwear, thinking Seamus wanted nothing to do with me. This wasn’t how I typically consoled the patrons at the bar.

Then I found confirmation. Whatever happened to us had been well received.

My clothes sat neatly folded on the corner of the bed.

Downstairs, I could smell a fresh pot of coffee, and a single cup sat on the table where I had sat days before.

I helped myself, returning to the living room, where the night had taken a sudden turn.

I sipped the dark, bitter brew as I studied the faces in the pictures.

The young girl in the photos provided a timeline.

At her youngest, Seamus had a smile as he lifted her into the air.

By the time she reached graduation, the luster had been robbed from his eyes.

Something had happened, and I suspect it had something to do with the lack of mom.

I had questions, ones far too private to ask without pushing Seamus away.

Once I washed the mug, setting it next to the other on the drying rack, I returned to town. Before I entered the library, I had seen his truck parked in front of the hardware store. Part of me wanted to go in and dial the charm to an eleven, but I needed to figure out my issues.

“Ahem.”

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t seen Firefly’s resident librarian sneak from his desk to the sitting area. I had seen him naked on the calendar, seated behind a desk, but I couldn’t recall if I had ever seen him at the bar. He fell into the bear category, and I’d call him handsome.

“Mind if I have a seat? If I stare at invoices any longer, my brain might explode.”

I gestured to the empty chair. “By all means.”

He took a seat while I studied him. Handsome, but even as I tried to imagine myself naked with him, my brain confirmed that not all men were created equal. Good looking, yes, but there was no need to see more than I already had.

“Patrick, right?” I saluted with my coffee. “You’re staying at my boyfriend’s sister’s bed-and-breakfast. How’s that for small-town interconnectedness?”

“That’s it? I would have assumed?—”

“It’s my boyfriend’s late grandmother’s house.”

I cracked a smile. “That’s the small town I expected, right there.”

“Hey, say what you will, but you’d be surprised how fast it ropes you in.”

“I’m a guest star on this sitcom.”

Tyler crossed his legs, revealing a pair of knitted, multi-color socks. Along with his jeans and oversized sweater, it completed the look. I’d call the expression smug, as if he had a secret he knew would prove me wrong.

“You know Mabel?”

“Syrup? Yeah, she performs at Spectrum.”

“And she hosts our Drag Reading Hour with the kids.” His arms went wide, as if he had proved his point. “First line of connection. If you want, I’m sure I could figure out how you’re related to?—”

“I get it,” I said with a smirk. “Maine is just a big small town.”

“How are you liking Firefly?”

In another state, the question might have come across as innocent. Small talk always had an underlying question. I knew Jon wasn’t from here, but his boyfriend had been born and raised in Firefly. Anything said aloud risked becoming fodder for idle gossip.

“It’s familiar.” I made it sound like a negative. “It’s like every other small town in Maine. It has all the same storefronts and businesses. There are a dozen like it. It feels like I’ve been here before.”

“And then you meet the people.” He laughed. “You’re family by heritage.”

“Yes!” He had hit it on the head. “Were they like this when Jon moved here?”

“I can’t tell you how many pies they baked him.” He poked his belly. “Ten pounds, I tell you.”

Tyler, much like Gladys, embodied small-town charm. They were proud to live in this close-knit community. For better or worse, they were family by geography. It’s also what made me hesitate with my next question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“And it stays between us?”

His lips thinned as he debated his answer. “A secret in Firefly is worth more than gold.” I’m glad he understood my conundrum. “It’ll cost you.”

I raised an eyebrow, not sure what he meant.

“What’s your favorite book?”

If I confessed to not having picked up a book in years, he might toss me out the front door. If we were thinking of favorites, it’d be the one my mom read to me as a child. Thinking of her sitting cross-legged in bed, making voices for each of the characters, left me with a big grin.

“Neverending Story.”

“Michael Ende,” he said. “Good choice. I accept payment. You may proceed.”

I appreciated the moment of levity. I leaned forward, hands clasped together. “You’ve lived here your whole life.” Let the gossip begin. “What happened to Seamus?”

“Finnigan?” Tyler let out a long sigh. “Why do you ask?”

“I might have almost died a couple of nights ago. I got caught on the mountain when it snowed. He took me in. And…”

“You’ve noticed that he’s a bit… standoffish?”

“To say the least.”

Tyler leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “If I were anybody else in town, I might tell you. But this isn’t my story to tell.”

“But…”

“Seamus isn’t like the other people in Firefly. He came here to escape. We all know him, and as you can guess, we know more than we should. But some stories… that’s for him to tell. Why the sudden interest?”

I wanted to know something about the man who spooned against my back last night. It would have been the truth… partly. My fascination, perhaps even infatuation, allowed me to dodge the entire reason I came to Firefly.

“I guess he’s a distraction.”

“From what?”

“Those tough inner monologues you don’t want to have.”

“This isn’t an inner monologue.” His eyebrow shifted up his face. “Try me.”

Tyler disarmed and redirected like a professional therapist. I wanted to ask if he double majored in school. He built a rapport without flipping a single glass or popping the cap off a cheap beer. Where did he hide the couch?

“You ever wonder if you’re where you’re supposed to be?” He glanced over his shoulder at the library. The smirk said he landed exactly where he wanted. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s time to get a new job. Not sure why I stay at the bar.”

Tyler shook his head. “You know why.”

My eyes narrowed. I thought loudly about his socks, testing if he could read my thoughts. They’d match my mittens. When he didn’t reply, I figured it had to be something obvious.

“Sure, I like the people, but?—”

“Don’t but me.”

“But—”

“Back it up, mister. If you love the people. You have your answer.”

“I want to do something with people? That doesn’t really narrow it down.”

Tyler laughed. “If I gave you all the answers, what would you really learn?”

“What I want to do with my future?” I cried. “That’s what I’d learn.”

Tyler snickered as he stood, signaling our therapy session had reached its conclusion.

He stood with his hands on his hips, giving me a long stare before he shook his head.

I don’t know why, but I liked this guy. He had charisma for days, and I bet he charmed the pants off all the little old ladies in town.

“I don’t know if Seamus is a distraction.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, sorry, I have to take this.” He reached into his pocket, shuffling around for his phone. When his hand emerged, he spoke into his pinky with his thumb by his ear. “Oh, not busy at all. Just making a kid do his homework.”

Subtle.

He continued the conversation with himself as he returned to the desk.

Leaving me with the fake fire, I hated to admit, he had a point.

I loved people. Instead of diving deep, I thought about dancing with Seamus.

I hoped he walked out of the situation with a little less yearning.

I did. Confused as all hell, but less yearning.

Maybe if I stopped thinking of him as a distraction. Dammit. Tyler had been right. The answers were there. I just needed to find the connection.