Page 6 of One Chance to Stay (Bears of Firefly Valley #4)

I glanced down at the record. Gladys had done such a great job with carefully placed folds. I didn’t dare open it to see its contents. I had faith that she had picked the perfect gift. If I knew anything about this town, its occupants took an uncanny delight in surprising one another.

I glanced at the hand-carved “Logan & Son Hardware” sign hanging above the entrance.

Before I could reach for the door, it opened.

I recognized the guy as one of Jason’s friends, but I couldn’t place the name.

The few times I had seen him around town, he wore his signature overalls.

It seemed fitting to run into him at the hardware store.

I stared long enough that he raised an eyebrow. “So sorry.” I offered my hand. “I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m?—”

“Patrick.” The speed at which Firefly dismantled privacy made me uneasy. “I’m Bobby. My dad lives next door to Valhalla.” He took my hand and gave it a firm shake. “You doing okay? Heard you got stuck out in the storm.”

Of course, he knew.

“Yeah. I won’t be hiking for a while.”

He stepped out of the way, holding the door open. “If you ever need anything, Evelyn has my number.” Oh, I knew she did. I bet buying a house in Firefly came with the phone numbers of every person in town. And birthdays. Allergies. Favorite pie.

“Appreciated.” He shot me a wink as I went in. My cheeks burned. At the bar, getting hit on was part of the job. Catching the eye of a rather handsome man out in the wild, I considered myself flattered.

Slipping inside, I had a direct view of the empty counter at the back of the store.

I stepped into one row running perpendicular to the counter.

Holding the record behind my back, I prepared to surprise Seamus.

I walked along the salt and snow shovels, turning so I approached the counter.

I moved through the plumbing equipment into chainsaws.

The storefront hid the true size of the interior.

Shy of lumber, it had everything to build a house and keep it snow free.

“Snow shoes?” I whispered. Okay, the store did have everything.

I leaned around the display of duct tape and spotted Seamus reading something on the counter.

He wore overalls similar to Bobby’s and a dark green turtleneck sweater that put him somewhere between cozy and playful.

Seamus would probably frown if I said that aloud.

He could argue all he wanted. I’m sure underneath the growling was a sensible human.

“What do you want?” He never looked up from the counter.

“Hey.” I waved, even though he never glanced in my direction. “Remember me from the other day?”

“How could I forget?” I smiled as he looked up. “You drank the last of my whiskey.” It had been a short-lived smile.

At least this explained how he got me naked in bed. Now that I had his attention, he didn’t break eye contact. Seamus had the perfect poker face, as if he could relax every muscle in his face. Feign annoyance all he wanted, it would not detour me from my mission.

“I wanted to say thank you for helping me out.”

He held still as a statue. I could’ve just said thank you and walked away.

So why was I suddenly staging a grand gesture at the counter of a hardware store?

No, a bit of gratitude wouldn’t be enough to shake the walls Seamus had erected.

Part of me worried he’d see it as a violation of trust. The other part wanted him to think I knew him on my own.

“Screw it,” I mumbled. I whipped the record around and thrust it toward him. “I got you something.”

An eyebrow rose. A sparkly bow and wrapping paper covered in snowmen, and all I got from him was a single muscle twitch? His eyes dropped, inspecting the gift before returning with something that bordered on a glare. He must be a real hoot at birthday parties.

I set the record on the counter and slid it in his direction.

Did he realize he came off as an emotional black hole?

I had enough pep for two people, and yet, he deflected it without flinching.

My hand lingered on the wrapping paper. If he wasn’t going to be excited, I’d dial it up.

My fingers tugged at the paper, ready to tear it and reveal the golden oldies inside.

His hand shot forward, his oversized mitt flattening my palm against the record. “It’s rude to open another man’s gift.”

His hand lingered with enough pressure that I couldn’t withdraw.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the coarse fingers scratching my skin.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say Seamus took pleasure in misdirecting and making a situation uncomfortable.

Hell, I didn’t know better. Uncomfortable interactions could be his default setting.

I thought of the folded clothes. I knew a defense mechanism when I saw one.

“Are you going to open it?” I asked.

His eyes had focused on our hands. He finally withdrew, sliding the record off the counter. He held it up, eyes switching between it and me. I detected the suspicion. We were studying one another. What I would give to hear his thoughts at this moment.

“Gladys,” he huffed.

She probably had a signature wrapping paper or a unique way she attached the bow. I bet it reached legendary status in Firefly, and everybody sought her out to wrap their presents each Christmas.

He tore at the paper, dragging it out in a long, slow rip. What would take a child seconds, Seamus spent nearly a minute. Once the paper had fallen, he spun it about, looking at the front. His eyes went wide. The first break in that steely armor.

“Ellington,” he mumbled, as if it explained everything.

“Who?”

“Son.” His eyes narrowed as he glared. “Duke Ellington is one of the greatest jazz composers.” Seamus let out a scoff to hide the smile under his beard. “Look forward to listening to this.”

I held my breath, trying to convince myself I had done a good deed.

I could walk away, satisfied that I had paid back this secret softy.

For a split second, I had seen his smile.

It should be enough. Wiggling through a crack in his armor, I wasn’t done.

Something about him drove me forward, and I risked making a fool of myself.

“Just tell me when I should come over.”

The words left my mouth before I realized what I had said.

Seamus wasn’t going to let down his defenses.

I’d have to scale the wall if I wanted to see the man behind the mask.

While I should spend my time in Firefly asking myself difficult questions, I focused on Seamus.

I’d need to add that to the list of conversations I needed to have with myself.

“You’re a strange man,” he said.

“Or am I charming to a point of irritation?”

He scoffed. Did I detect the hint of a smile? “I said what I said.”

“Are you going to introduce me to Duke or not?”

I put the ball in his court. It’d have been easy to charge in like a storm and force my way in his door. After threats of shooting me, I bet he’d let me stay. No, I needed him to say the words, otherwise I’d have to write him off as a lost cause.

“I’m closing tonight.”

I frowned at the statement. He had a built-in excuse and brushed off the offer. Something about this rejection stung. I’d file it away amongst the other weird, obsessive behaviors that continued surfacing since I arrived.

Seamus fixated on the record. I imagined he already had a spot waiting for it amongst his collection. He’d sit on the couch and close his eyes, sipping his whiskey as he listened. I could see the scene in my head, but I wanted to know what crossed his mind as he lost himself?—

“Tomorrow. Seven.”

“What?”

“Do I need to write an invitation? Is that what you kids do these days?”

“Kids?” I almost laughed. “You’re not that much—” I bit back my words. With the salt showing through his beard, Seamus must have had twenty years on me. He could have been fighting in a war while I learned to use the potty. Best not to insult the man.

“Tomorrow,” I said.

“You owe me a bottle of whiskey.”

I shot him a grin. “Seamus, are you asking me over for drinks?”

He grumbled.

“Aww. You’re such a gentleman.” I gave a slight bow. “I’m sure I can find a bottle to your liking.” He didn’t know my history with liquor. I could match any person or situation to the perfect cocktail. If it got a rise out of him, I’d gladly flex my gifts.

“I’m already regretting this.”

I backed away from the counter, giving him a wave. “Be prepared to regret it plenty.” I spun about, heading to the door. “Tomorrow. Seven.”

I couldn’t see his face, but without onlookers, I’d like to believe the corner of his lip turned into a grin. We’d see if I could catch a glimpse of it tomorrow night. That gave me the next day to see what Firefly offered in the way of top-shelf whiskey.

Now that I had accomplished my one goal for today, I had nothing to occupy my brain.

While I appreciated the distraction, it was time for me to have a quiet moment by myself to collect my thoughts.

I had come here hoping for some introspection, and so far, I had done everything in my power to ignore it.

Solving the problems of others… easy. Grappling with my issues? Ugh. That sounded like work.

I pushed open the door to the hardware store and stood on the street. Even the sun couldn’t break through the chill in the air. It was time to figure out what the folks of Firefly did when they couldn’t… tend fields? For all my years in Maine, I still didn’t quite understand how Northerners lived.

“I guess it’s time to find out.” I let out a lengthy sigh. “First, coffee.”