Page 6 of Break Me Like a Promise (Oak Valley)

“Well, I’m a fucking adult and wanted to apply,” Colton chuckled, counting down the days until he didn’t have to deal with the bullshit.

“Well, smart-ass, so long as you live under my roof you’ll follow my rules, and I made it crystal clear when you moved back last year that you were to focus on the family business.”

“And I have been. I’ve been working there almost every day. I brought in Dragan when Dan quit suddenly. I reworked your management system so it’s almost all online.” Colton bit his tongue from asking what more Bryce could possibly want.

If it wasn’t the rest of Colton’s life, his dad didn’t want to hear it.

His dad shook his head. “You went to college for football. You got a political science degree and a minor in two languages. All of which your mother and I have helped support you through.”

“Are you kidding me?” Colton crossed his arms. “My college was paid for by my scholarship.”

Bryce laughed. “Oh yeah, big man? And who drove you to football practices? Who spent weekends practicing? Money for camps and training?” He shook his head. “You ungrateful shit. You have everything because of us. Because of me. And you have a responsibility to this family, to your grandfather’s legacy.”

Colton could always trust the truth to come out eventually with his dad. He didn’t mince words, and while Colton was grateful to have inherited that trait, it was hard to be on the receiving end of it. He straightened. This conversation was so over, he needed a new word for over.

“I was never going to inherit the legacy. I went away for football with no plans to come back. It was supposed to be Katie. It was always supposed to be her — she loves the garage. I never did. And I never will.”

He pushed past his dad, rushing out before Bryce could fire back. The front door almost hit him on the way out, the cold cutting into him as he nearly ran down the driveway. His dad wasn’t a brute, but he was mean. Always had been. Grades were never good enough, performance never good enough. He was never good enough. It didn’t matter he graduated top ten in his high school class, set state records in football, helped his dad at the shop, and maintained a long-term relationship.

Ruby.

Colton’s breath caught. He stood facing the road, memories of her flooding him. He used to bike to her house when his dad got like this. He used to hold her on the couch or in her bed, her fingers stroking his arm while they laid in silence. She’d been his refuge, his rock. She knew him, saw him, in ways no one else had.

But over the years, he’d had to learn to live without her warmth. He’d had to find solace where he could. When he was pro, it was usually women and parties. When he returned home, it was usually escaping by any means necessary to any place. The driveway, the local bar, maybe one of the guys’ houses.

A little voice in his head murmured she was back, he could go see her.

Colton shook his head and turned to face his house. He could probably grab his jacket and keys without his dad knowing and drive to Dragan’s or Caleb’s.

But never Ruby’s. There’s no way she’d want to see him now.

7

She shouldn’t have worn her coat in the car, knowing that the drive into town for the Christmas tree lighting would be filling her with a dread that burned through her body. But Ruby had been caught up in getting out of the house under her mom’s frazzled insistence, worried that they’d be too late to either get hot chocolate or see the lighting.

The streets she’d grown up on passed by in a blur, changing from spread out farmland to the more closely built houses that indicated their arrival into Oak Valley’s suburbs. The streets were already somewhat packed. From farmers markets to tree lightings to the annual Valentine’s Day festival, the small-town inhabitants loved all the quaint happenings and usually showed up in droves. Which usually equated to about two hundred of the 1,000 residents.

“I absolutely hate finding parking in this town,” Beryl mumbled, inching her way down Main Street. Ruby looked to her right, watching people walk down Center Street toward the tree, trying to see if she could recognize anyone beneath their hats and scarves. The square where the tree was to be lit was really just a square plot of land with a large evergreen in the center, in front of one of the town’s two churches. They passed the packed parking lot on the left in front of the middle school, and the packed lot on the right nestled between The Crispy Crust Pizzeria and Joe’s Hardware. The lots at the end of Main Street, next to Oak Valley Pharmacy and the new gym, were also full.

Beryl hooked a left down South Street, turning right into the large lot behind the main strip of boutique stores. She pulled into a spot at the far end, behind a yoga studio.

Ruby got out of the car and looked around, staring at the studio.

“They moved in a few months ago,” Beryl said, as if reading her mind. “Never thought I’d live to see the day when yoga came to Oak Valley, but I’m not complaining. Things seem to be changing, and for the better. C’mon, let’s get some hot cocoa.”

Her mom led the way back to South Street, where they walked past the front of the studio, the Little Prince Bookstore, and the thrift store before ending at For Goodness Cakes. Ruby steeled herself, knowing the chances of running into Colton here were almost as high as running into him at the auto shop. But her mom charged ahead, not giving Ruby any time to focus on what it would be like to run into him in such a small space after not talking for ten years.

Thankfully, it was absent of everyone except the owner, Evelyn Dougherty, who was also the mom of Ruby’s friend Olive. Another redhead, she’d always been extra friendly to Ruby when she was little, aware of the silly playground taunts that came with sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Well, if it isn’t the Delacey women,” Evelyn said, untying her apron and coming around the corner to give them big hugs. Ruby viewed her as a second mom, and she was grateful some things hadn’t changed in the small town.

“We’re just here for some hot chocolate, we’re unfortunately in a bit of a rush with the tree lighting,” Beryl explained.

“No worries, we anticipated it.” Evelyn went behind the counter and pulled two large paper cups out. A lineup of large silver carafes sat in the back corner of the bar area, and one of them Evelyn poured hot chocolate into the cups. The bakery made their hot chocolate the old way — heated milk and sugar and chocolate chips — and when they were feeling creative, they tried different spices or flavors. Ruby had missed the richness and flavor from the shop, and gladly took her cup from Evelyn while her mom tapped out the pay info on the iPad on the counter.

“Thanks, Mrs. Dougherty!” Ruby said between sips.

“Anytime, don’t be a stranger! I’m sure Olive will be glad you’re back.”

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