Page 71 of The Fire

Or maybe this was just another way I was fooling myself.

“Parks?” Jamie asked after I’d been silent for a second. “You need anything else? ’Cause I’m kinda slammed.”

“N-no,” I said, but it came out all choky, so I had to try again. “No, I’m set. Thanks.”

“Okay then. See you in an hour?” Jamie said briskly.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ll be there.”

I turned back around to find that—shocker—Hen had been avidly watching me the whole time.

“He said you could pick, right?” Hen said, nodding without even waiting for my confirmation. “Jameson knows what’s what. Lemme show you some samples.” He winked before limping toward the paint section.

I shook my head at his back. I was glad someone knew what was what. I, for my part, knew jack shit. There was a corner of my mind that was still stumbling over the fact that Jamie Burke wastaking my calls, let alone meeting me for cupcakes, and flirting with me, and trusting me withanything.

I felt a wave of longing so strong it nearly overwhelmed me. And O’Leary Hardware might be a really strange place for a revelation, but I was having one right then and there.

I washappy.

Happy with Jamie. Happy in O’Leary.

And I wasn’t pushing Jamie to changefriends with benefitsinto one thing or another, or pushing the insurance company to settle my claim, or even rescheduling my trip to Arizona, because I knew if I moved in any direction, it could all come crashing to an end. As long as my claim went unpaid and I didn’t confront Jameson, I could keep things exactly as they were.

Fuck.I had become that which I hated—someone who didn’t say yes or no, who drifted along. I wasn’t just stuck in the middle with Jamie, I was stuck in the middle witheverything.

And I didn’t know how to get myself out of it.

A crash of metal on metal broke into my thoughts just as Henry yelled, “Ah, damn it all!”

I hurried toward the back of the shop, where I found Henry leaning heavily on the paint mixing counter, his face a little pale.

“Hen? What happened?”

“My damn fool leg,” he muttered, glaring down at the offending limb. “Been more than half a year and itstillisn’t what it was. Just goes out from under me sometimes.”

“Here, let me help,” I said, pulling his arm over my shoulder and steadying him. “Let’s get you back to your stool.”

“Not a snowball’s chance, Parker. I need to get your paint.”

I wanted to tell him the paint was notmine, damn it, no matter how many times he conveniently forgot that, and I didn’t care about the paint anymore, anyway, but then I remembered who I was dealing with. Henry was as proud as he was stubborn.

“Let me grab the stool, then,” I offered. “You can direct me on how to mix the paint. Okay?”

Hen nodded once and braced himself against the paint counter. I grabbed the stool from behind the cash register and brought it back to him, then let him give me precise instructions on how to run the paint-mixing machinery.

“Not bad,” Henry said approvingly when I’d finished. “You ever thought about the hardware business?”

I laughed. “You offering me a job?”

The bell over the door jangled, and Theo appeared. He took in the scene with a single glance, and his blue eyes narrowed. “Leg again?” he demanded of Henry. “I thought you agreed to take it easy.”

“Parker’s taking your job,” Hen informed him.

“Oh, yeah?” Theo’s eyebrows winged up. “Thank God. Good luck, Parks. I hope you two are very happy together.” He leaned closer and stage whispered, “He gets cranky when Diane forgets he hates cherry cobbler, but you can bring him around if you buy him a donut across the street.”

“She never forgets,” Hen said darkly. “She does it to make a point.”

I shook my head. “Not gonna touch this one. Theo, wanna ring me out for the paint?”