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CHAPTER 14

JILL

T he guilt was overwhelming. I’d say I was drowning in it if the metaphor wasn’t so repulsive in that moment. I never should have pushed him to get in.

Even after we’d gotten out of the hot tub and he’d had a chance to dry off and relax while I pulled dinner from the oven, he’d looked lost and he winced every time I came anywhere near him.

“I never used to eat much when I was super anxious either,” I said, watching Grady move the food around on his plate. He’d barely touched it.

He sighed, hanging his head before he looked back up at me. “I’m sorry. It’s delicious, I just can’t eat.”

“I get it.” I spun, grabbing some leftover containers from the cupboard. “You can take some for later, when you feel better.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

I ignored him, scooping half the skillet into one of the containers. “Maybe I want to.”

“You won’t wear my jersey, and now you’re giving me pity leftovers? You’re really trying to give me a complex.”

I licked some wayward mashed potatoes from my thumb. “Why does it bother you so much that I won’t wear it?” I figured it had just been an ego thing, but the more he wouldn’t let it go, the more I wondered what his glitch was.

He thought for a second, downing the last of his wine and sliding his chair back. “I guess I’ve just never had anyone in my life who wasn’t supportive of my hockey career.”

“Well, maybe I see you as more than that? I’m not against your career, but I knew you before you were Mr. Hockey Hot Shot, so I don’t think of you as a Boston Brawler. I think of you as . . .”

I paused, fearing that Grady was seconds away from reading all over my face exactly what I thought of him. Since the start of the summer, even with his first-event fuck-up, he’d done nothing to make him any less crush-worthy. But if I told him ‘I think of you as perfect and handsome and kind and funny and adorably optimistic,’ I think things might get awkward. More awkward.

“You think of me as what?” This conversation had started out light, but there was genuine concern in his eyes as he waited for my answer.

I decided to hide behind vagueness. “You. Just you.”

“Ah,” he said, studying me as if he could tell I was hiding something.

“And these are not pity leftovers,” I said, shoving the container into his hands. “I don’t pity you, Grady.”

He stood, laughing ruefully under his breath. “How many more breakdowns do you think it’ll take before you change your mind?”

I followed him to the door. “No limit. I already told you, needing to sort this out doesn’t change who you are. Not to me.” I walked out onto the porch, listening to the tree frogs sing from one side of the creek to the other. “In fact, I think we should do this again.”

“Dinner and a freak out?”

I glared at him. “You didn’t do that bad.”

He shook his head, but then he let out a loud sigh and propped a hand on his hip. “I actually could use your help.”

“Oh? Does it involve any sort of Brawlers paraphernalia?”

He let himself laugh at that, shaking his head at me. “No. I need to do some PT”—he cleared his throat—“in the pool.”

“I’m there.”

“Seriously? I have to do this at night, I can’t risk anyone being around to see if I lose it.”

“You won’t lose it,” I said, holding up my hand when he went to argue. “And if you do, it’ll be okay. It’s just me.”

His eyes were wide and I could see the apprehension in them. But he finally nodded. “I appreciate it.”

I flicked my hand between us, smiling at him. “Team, remember.”

“You sure you never played any organized sports?” he asked, taking the two steps off the porch. “Cause you’re pretty good at this.”

“Does book club count?” I teased.

“Did you have uniforms?” He opened his car door, looking back at me.

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

“Then nope.”

“Whatever.”

“Tomorrow night work?” he asked, his humor slipping a little.

“Just tell me when.”

“Nine o’clock.”

I nodded and then turned for the door. “Don’t be late.”

“It was one time!” he yelled, as I walked inside laughing.

“Oooo, there she is,” my mother sang, prancing up to me with a smile so wide and bright it was a little blinding.

“Hi, Mom?” Her greeting was a bit much for our weekly family dinner.

“It’s like having a celebrity in the house.” She took the brownies I’d brought and guided me into the living room where my father and LeAnn were already sitting. “Look who’s here,” she cooed. Now I was really confused.

LeAnn gave me a sympathetic look, even as she laughed at my mother’s antics.

I shook out of my mother’s hold. “What’s going on?”

Reaching forward, my father swiped a newspaper clipping from the table. “You’re a cover girl, Jilly.”

The hammering of my heart grew stronger, a white noise filling my ears as he handed me the slip of flimsy newsprint. My face was plastered across half of the front page of our local paper, one of the photos from the shoot the other day showing my arms full of books and Grady standing tall and proud beside me. How the hell had they gotten this to print so fast? I wanted to vomit.

“Oh god.”

“You look so good,” my mother said, her voice raising as she tried to convince me of what she knew I’d never believe. My self-esteem wasn’t even the issue here, and she knew it. Being on display like this was my biggest fear brought to life.

“It is a really great picture,” LeAnn offered with a wary smile.

My dad pushed back in his recliner, his chest puffed up. “You two are really making some waves.”

With the way my mom nodded, I was worried she’d strain her neck. “I told you, this program is going to go so well, the library would be crazy to lose you.”

“Exactly,” my dad agreed, his eyes slipping past us to the TV show that was playing on mute. “You’ve given them more press than they’ve had in years. No way they can bear to lose you now. You’re the star of the show.”

I cringed, because I was far from the star and everyone knew it. Grady was the only reason this program was going so well, and he was also the only reason this photo even existed. Him and his stupid song.

Dropping the clipping on the table, I took the brownies back from my mother and went into the kitchen. “I’m just doing my job,” I grumbled as I passed them, even though that photo was well outside what I considered part of my normal job description.

I took a series of deep breaths as I set the brownies on the counter. The smell of my mother’s pot roast filled my lungs and I tried to remember that it was just one summer. I could go back to my quiet little life once all this was over. It just couldn’t be over fast enough.

“Was that Grady’s car I saw pulling out last night?”

I closed my eyes, sighing at the sound of my brother’s voice. His cop voice.

“Didn’t you run the plates?”

He set his glass on the counter beside me, reaching into the fridge for another beer. “If I’d had a better view, I would have. Was it him?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I smirked. “I don’t remember hiring private security. And I wouldn’t want to abuse a county resource. So, maybe stay out of my business.” Based on Joey’s scowl, Grady’s unease from the other night was well founded.

“You are my business. And he knows it.”

I spun to face him, already keyed up about the article in the paper. “We’re working together all summer, Joe. Get over it.”

“Pretty sure you weren’t reading to kids in your living room at ten o’clock last night.”

“It wasn’t that late.” I rolled my eyes.

“Why was he there?”

There was no way I was going to tell Joey about what was going on with Grady. If he didn’t already know, it wasn’t my place to fill him in. It would probably be helpful for Grady to confide in his friends, but that wasn’t for me to decide.

“The shoot went late and we needed to go over some logistics for this weekend’s event, so we did it over dinner. Do you want to know what I cooked, or is that enough detail for your report?” I loved my brother, and knew he just wanted to protect me, but this was crossing a line.

He eyed me for a second, his mouth popping open to respond when LeAnn walked in. She took one look at us and shook her head. “Come on, big guy, let’s go help your mother. She’s trying to get something down from the attic and I’m fairly certain it’s your baby clothes.”

Joey held my gaze for a second longer before he turned to his wife and dropped a kiss on her head. “No way those things haven’t been shredded by moths by now.”

“Well, she’s convinced there are some gems we’ll want. Something about a sailor outfit.” LeAnn laughed, shooting me a wink as she wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him through the door.

I sagged back against the counter, listening to the muffled sounds of voices and furniture scraping the wide wood floorboards above me. This farmhouse was old and creaky and could probably use some upgraded insulation. But it was beautiful and full of charm. It was as much a character in my growing up as any member of my family, and looking around a sense of peace and safety washed over me. I’d meant it when I told Grady I didn’t want to live anyplace else. And I guess I was more than a little surprised to hear him say the same thing.

When Grady had walked in that first day I’d expected a torturous summer of endless reminders of how great he was and how untouchable. And yeah, he was still great, but he wasn’t the persona I’d built him up to be. Seeing him struggle broke my heart, but it also set me free. Free from seeing him through the eyes of a teenager. Grady was more real to me than he’d ever been, and now the way I felt about him wasn’t flimsy, like that paper clipping in the other room. It was solid, rooted in a hell of a lot more than whatever fairytales I’d concocted as a kid.

“You gonna hide in here till dinner?” my dad asked, poking his head around the corner. “I put the clipping away, for now.” He chuckled under his breath. “But as soon as your mom finds it, you know it’s going in a frame on the wall.”

Ugh. I dropped my head, resigned to the fact that that was exactly what she was going to do. “I’m coming.” I pushed off the counter and grabbed a seltzer from the fridge.

“No wine?”

“I have to run into town after dinner to pick up some books I forgot,” I lied. Even before Joey’s interrogation I knew my departure wouldn’t go unnoticed, so I’d cooked up my story on the walk over. My bathing suit and towel were already in my car, as if I was some sort of bank robber needing to make a hasty getaway. With a brother like Joey, I did what I had to.

“Gotcha. You’ll miss the end of the game.”

“I’m heartbroken.”

“Hey, I thought you were all into sports now.” He smirked over his shoulder as we went back to the living room. “That jersey looked good on you.”

“Ugh. Dad,” I grumbled, but I laughed a little too.