Page 87 of Catching Sparks

A million different possibilities and ideas burst through my mind, all of them involving taking Poppy away from here for a few days. Of storming her date and doing what I should have done in Peakside. Laying an official claim on her for everyone to see. Telling her exactly what she deserves to know, which is that she’s not just someone I want to sleep with. She’s so much more, and I’ll beat myself up for a long time to come, knowing that I made her feel like she’s nothing to me.

It’s risky. Swift Edge’s PR team will have my head for this if they find out, but there isn’t a single person who can lecture me more than I’ve already done myself for the past week. I feel unwound, on edge, desperate. A myriad of emotions that I haven’t allowed myself to experience since I grew old enough to detest how out of control they made me feel.

It took Poppy five weeks to unravel me completely. And while I fear it’ll take triple that to piece myself back together once I’m done here, I’m beginning to believe it will be worth it.

“Is Wade around? I need to talk to him.”

“Yeah, he is. He’s been watching you sulk for days now.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t come here and kick my ass, considering that he cares so much for Poppy.”

“I think that has something to do with him starting to care for you too,” Johnny murmurs, his tone cautious, not wanting to spook me.

“Yeah, I’m starting to believe that. It seems everyone in Cherry Peak has a habit of making a home for themselves in your life whether you want them to or not.”

Johnny closes the distance between us and claps a hand against my shoulder in a move that brings me back to the first time he convinced me to go to Peakside. Only as opposed to then, I don’t flinch from it. I accept the gesture.

He makes a contemplative, soft noise in the back of his throat. “But isn’t it nice? Having people care about you for who you are without any additional bullshit? I don’t think I’d have it any other way.”

The world shifts around me as something settles in my soul. A lock clicking into place.

“Yeah, I’m beginning to see the appeal.”

I find Wade in the main house with Eliza. The old bastard is inhaling a triple-stacked sandwich that drips mustard down his fingers and onto the white plate beneath it. His wife rips off a piece of paper towel and slides it under the edge of the plate with a sigh.

“You’re as bad as those animals outside,” she tells him.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he mutters over the food in his mouth.

I take a step out of the entry, and the old floor creaks beneath me, alerting them to my presence. Eliza spins to face me, her smile growing once she notices it’s me. That smile settles some of my discomfort. She reminds me too much of my mother not to have that effect.

“Why hello, Garrison. Are you hungry? I’ve still got out all the fixings for a sandwich. Do you prefer turkey or ham?” she asks before moving to the kitchen counter, which is littered with ingredients.

“I’m not hungry, but thank you.”

“Bullshit,” Wade says.

“You’ve been working all day. Let me feed you,” she demands.

I cough up a laugh and nod. “Alright. I didn’t come here to be fed, though.”

“What do you need, boy?” Wade asks.

The table looks far bigger at this moment than it normally does when it’s piled with food and surrounded by starving ranchers. After pulling the chair out beside Wade, I sit and lean my elbows on the table, hands clasped. He darts his eyes in my direction and swallows a bite of his sandwich.

“If I asked for a few days off, what are the odds you’d say yes?”

Eliza glances at me over her shoulder, inspecting me before going back to her sandwich making. There isn’t much I don’t enjoy eating, so I don’t bother telling her to avoid anything. She slathers enough toppings on the first slice of bread that my stomach starts growling.

“Depends what you need ’em for,” Wade grunts. “You willin’ to disclose that information to me?”

I stare at him, not balking at the challenge. “If I have to, yeah.”

“Get talkin’, then.”

“Wade,” Eliza scolds with a slight shake of her head. “Tell us if you want to share, sweetheart.”

I smile appreciably, even though I don’t need her to intervene on my behalf. Wade is a hard-ass, but he likes me more than he wants to admit. The feeling is reciprocated.

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