Page 52 of Saved By the Boss

“I appreciate the offer,” Ron says, his voice carrying that same steady certainty it always does, “but it’s under control. You don’t need to put yourself out.”

I bite back the urge to argue further. Ron’s the kind of man who doesn’t budge once he’s made up his mind, and I know better than to waste my breath. Instead, I nod, letting the matter drop. “All right. Seven it is.”

“Good,” he says, his tone final. He glances at Jade, his expression softening. “You’ll have more than enough to get through the storm, don’t worry.”

Jade nods, though I can see the tension still lingering in her posture. “Thanks, Ron. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he says with a small smile before heading back inside.

The three of us linger there for a moment, the silence stretching out between us. Tawny shifts her weight, her hands buried in her coat pockets, and I can feel Jade’s gaze flicking toward me again, cautious and calculating.

“Well,” Tawny says finally, breaking the silence. “Guess that’s that. We’ll see you tomorrow morning, Declan.”

“Looking forward to it,” I tell her awkwardly, though my focus is still on Jade. There’s something about her, something beneath the surface that I can’t quite put my finger on. She’s not just cautious; she’s on edge, like she’s waiting for something bad to happen. I know that feeling all too well, and I can’t help but be curious about her. Is she running from something too? If so, what is it?

Tawny nudges her friend gently. “Come on, Jade. I’ll get you a coffee and a piece of pie at the diner.”

Jade hesitates for a moment before nodding, her eyes lingering on me for just a second longer. Then she turns, following Tawny toward her car. I watch as they climb inside, the engine sputtering to life before they pull out of the lot and disappear down the road.

For a moment, I just stand there, the cold seeping through my gloves. My breath fogs in the air as I glance toward the tree line, the mountains rising like silent sentinels in the distance. I should probably head back to the cabin, but something about this whole exchange sticks with me.

I don’t know Jade. I don’t know her story or why she looks at people like she’s expecting them to turn on her. But I know what it’s like to carry a weight you can’t put down, to live with the kind of scars you can’t show anyone. And part of me wonders if that’s what I saw in her eyes.

Shaking off the thought, I climb into my truck and start the engine. The rumble fills the cab, a low, steady hum that drowns out the silence. As I pull out onto the road, I glance in the rearview mirror, half expecting to see her car still lingering in the distance. But the road behind me is empty, the snow-covered asphalt stretching out like a blank slate.

Tomorrow, I tell myself. Tomorrow, I’ll bring the wood and make sure she’s set for the storm and then I’ll let it go. Whatever her story is, it’s not my place to pry.

The drive back feels even longer than the drive down, the stillness of the snow-covered landscape pressing in around me. My mind keeps drifting back to Jade, her guarded expression, the way she looked at me like she was trying to decide whether I was friend or foe. She’s cautious, but not in the way most people are. Nowadays, more than ever, things are dangerous but with her, it’s deeper than that, more ingrained. Like she’s spent a long time learning how to survive by herself.

I pull into my driveway and cut the engine, letting the quiet settle around me. The cabin is just as I left it, a solitary structure tucked into the woods, the snow piling up around its edges. I grab the supplies from the bed of the truck and head inside, the warmth of the fireplace greeting me as I kick the door shut behind me.

The cabin is small but comfortable, everything I need and nothing I don’t. It’s a far cry from the life I used to live, but it suits me. Here, I’m just another guy in the mountains, a face no one remembers and a name no one asks about. It’s better that way.

I set the supplies on the kitchen counter and start unpacking, my movements automatic as my mind drifts. Ron’s voice echoes in my head.Seven sharp.

Why did I offer to help? I didn’t need to, and it’s not like I’m hurting for things to do. I’ve kept myself busy with remote programming work for all these years, and I like staying off the grid. A small part of me always worries that somehow one of these small-town folk will say something to the wrong personand Patrick will find me here.

It’s ridiculous, I know, but staying off of his radar has been my main goal these last few years, and I’m not in any hurry to change that. But there was something in Jade’s voice when she asked about the firewood, something vulnerable and unsure. Something that made me want to step in and rescue her.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to feel out of your depth, to wonder if you’re doing enough to keep the world from caving in around you. And if someone had offered to help me back then, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.

I must have run into her a handful of times before, must have seen her on one of my many stops through town in the past, and only noticed her today. The only thing remarkable about today was deciding that it was time to let the ghost of Cassidy move on. Does that mean I’m finally ready to notice someone else?

I push the thought aside and grab a beer from the fridge, the cold glass damp against my palm. I crack it open and take a long sip, letting the bitterness wash away the edge of my thoughts. The snow outside is falling heavier now, the flakes swirling in the wind as the storm starts to make its presence known.

Tomorrow. I’ll help with the firewood, make sure she’s set for the storm, and then go back to keeping my head down. It’s better that way. For both of us.

5

Jade

The rhythmic beeping of the register and the faint hum of the overhead store lights are normally enough to ground me. Most days, I can slip into autopilot as I check out customers and help them find what they’re looking for. Not today, though. After my encounter this morning, my thoughts are a mess, spinning in directions I don’t want them to go.

Declan.

He’s been in my head since the moment he walked out of here, his truck rumbling as he drove off and up the mountain. It’s frustrating how little it took for him to plant himself in my mind, just a simple gesture of kindness from a handsome stranger. I still think I could manage on my own, but I know that’s just my hyper independent side fighting for dominance. Living in this town has taught me that I need to learn to accept help when it’s offered, because the people here are always offering.

Declan is an unknown element, though. I don’t have any measure on him. He’s not the same shade of overly bright, overlyeager helpful as Tawny. He’s not grandfatherly in the way Ron is. What heisthough, is hot as hell, even by LA standards where everyone looks like they walked off a movie set.

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