Chapter Two

Finn opened his eyes, disoriented for a moment, blinking and staring at the ceiling as the sound of a blender blasting from the kitchen continued. Everything was so wrong. He groaned when he rolled over in bed and glanced at the clock; it wasn’t even five in the morning. Didn’t Melody sleep?

Melody. His newest problem. It’s not that he didn’t like her. She was nice. Smart. Gorgeous. But all that was irrelevant because he wasn’t ready to share this place with anyone. It always felt like there was something hanging between them. Or maybe he was imagining it. He still felt guilty about saying no to her prom invitation. Maybe she’d forgotten about it.

He would never forget the embarrassment on her face when she’d awkwardly asked him to take her to the prom. He’d felt like the biggest ass turning her down, but he’d known it had something to do with her mom. Marlene Mayberry, long-standing mayor of Shadow Creek, had almost destroyed Molly and Ben’s relationship. She had cost them so many years. She had also cost her daughters a hell of a lot, too. Still, he regretted that he’d hurt Melody’s feelings.

She was very different than her sister, Molly. He had known Molly for years, even after she’d skipped town and left his brother broken-hearted. There had been a warmth to her that had stood out and made him believe her, even when Ben hadn’t. But they’d found their way back together a couple years ago, and he was happy for them.

But this time was supposed to be about himself. He knew this set-up was partially his fault. On Ben and Molly’s visit last weekend, he’d played up how happy he was and how he was ready to get back to the real world. He’d even gone as far as saying he was ready to start dating because he was tired of their pity-filled stares. Clearly, they’d bought his act and had wasted no time.

He’d tossed and turned all night, unable to get comfortable. His injured leg had been throbbing, regardless of the different positions he’d tried, and now when he’d finally been resting comfortably, he was awoken like this. He wasn’t thrilled about sharing the cabin with anyone, but he knew he should. It was generous enough of Molly and Ben to let him stay here while he worked on his recovery. They had a fully equipped gym in the basement, and that had been instrumental in him getting his strength back after the accident. A couple months of rehab in the hospital had gotten him back on his feet, but being out here in the middle of nowhere, with his own gym and nothing to concentrate on but his recovery, had given him back his strength.

He swore quietly as he tried to swing his leg over the side of the bed and sat up. His leg was always stiff, no matter how good of a day he was having. He imagined this was what it was like to be ninety. Wincing with pain, he slowly completed a few stretches that allowed him to walk without too much pain then forced himself to put on some shorts and a T-shirt before using the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he made his way into the kitchen. Melody was leaning against the counter, drinking from a massive glass filled with green juice and staring at her phone. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and something about her expression made him pause. She didn’t have any makeup on, and she was wearing leggings and a baggy T-shirt. She looked…different. Younger, softer, almost vulnerable. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail and highlighted her fine features and perfect skin. She had always been gorgeous, but this was different. She wasn’t as polished and perfect.

He rolled his shoulders. No need to stand here gawking at her all day. “Morning,” he said, walking into the kitchen.

She looked up, putting her phone on the island. “Good morning! I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said.

He shook his head and made a beeline for the coffeemaker. “No, no, I love waking up before five when I don’t have to be at work.”

She gasped. “Are you being sarcastic? Omigosh, I’m so sorry, Finn. I shut the hallway door to the bedrooms.”

“It’s fine. Really. I’m an early riser.” He used to be, anyway. Now it just depended on what kind of a night he’d had. But she didn’t need to know that. He hated sympathy. Or pity—that was the worst. As far as he was concerned, the accident was part of the risks in his job. It wasn’t a big deal. He wasn’t the first firefighter who’d been injured, and he wouldn’t be the last. Ben had been, and their father had died on the job, so Finn wasn’t about to complain about a leg that might never fully heal. Besides, the last week or so had him thinking of taking his life in a different direction. But it was too early to voice to anyone—hell, he had never even considered anything other than firefighting.

“I saved you some of my smoothie,” she said, pointing to the Vitamix on the counter. Molly had somehow managed to get Ben to consume these green drinks as well, hence the Vitamix. But they had never managed to convince him. He stuck to the powdered form of vegetables in the fridge.

He glanced at it as he made enough coffee for two. “Uh, thanks. What’s in it?”

“Spinach, mango, blueberries, parsley, spirulina, turmeric, collagen, and water. Lots of really great anti-inflammatory ingredients and the collagen is great for bone health.”

“You lost me at spinach,” he said, pulling down a mug and praying for the coffee to brew as quickly as possible. He needed to head into the gym and stretch out his leg; it was killing him to stand in one spot.

She smiled. “That’s okay, but you’re really missing out. So, are you still okay with me staying here? Because I was thinking maybe this will work. I’ll stay out of your way; I have a ton of reading I want to get to, and I’m really quiet. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

He poured himself a coffee and smiled, trying to relax and not think about the throbbing pain in his leg. “Quiet like the Vitamix?”

She grimaced. “Sorry.”

He was being an ass. Maybe he was even being anti-social. He’d been away from people for too long. “Joking. Of course I don’t mind. Would you like a coffee?”

She shook her head. “After I work out and shower.”

Shit. He kept his expression neutral. “You’re going to work out now?”

She nodded. “Is that okay? I like to get it over with in the morning. I need to change things up so I won’t be using the treadmill. I’m going to try yoga again. Then I’m going to try meditating, also again.”

He raised his eyebrows as he listened. She seemed almost nervous, and he had no idea why. She was normally so pulled together. “Again?”

She stared at him from over the rim of her glass. “I haven’t been too successful in the past. I’m kind of high strung, and I don’t think my muscles relax enough to actually stretch and bend. As for meditation, I have a really hard time shutting off from the world. My thoughts wander, jump to all the things I have to do in the day. Since I’m off work, this might be the time to try and see if I can do.”

He leaned against the counter, putting his weight on his good leg. It was interesting to hear her talk about herself with that self-derision. He kind of felt bad that she thought of herself that way. He wanted to tell her that she wasn’t high-strung. But that would be awkward. And maybe she was. What did he know? He cleared his throat. “I’ve never been much of a yoga or meditation person myself. But it’s worth a try. Supposed to be good for you.”

She nodded, her face relaxing, and finished the rest of her drink. “Yeah. We’ll see. I’ll head down there. If you want to use it first, though, I can always stay up here.”

He shook his head. “No, go ahead. I’ll just wait until you’re done.”

She grabbed her phone. “Okay. Thanks. Oh, and help yourself to the leftover pizza in the fridge.”

Her ponytail swayed as she left the room, and he forced himself to turn away. He shouldn’t be noticing her hair or eyes or the curves of her body. The last thing he needed was to be noticing her in any other way than a platonic relationship. Eyes, shiny hair, curves, perfect face, full mouth, all that was nothing he should notice. Or think about.

His phone vibrated on the counter, and he picked it up, already knowing it was Ben. How was your first night with Melody?

He gritted his teeth. Figures his brother would make a joke out of his misery. He typed back quickly. I wasn’t with her. We are in two separate bedrooms.

I know. I just meant how was it?

There was no “it” to describe. She went to bed. I went to bed. Now she woke me up because you have a dumb Vitamix in the house and she made a smoothie before five in the morning. Now she’s in the gym and I’m waiting to use it. Is that enough detail for you?

He only felt mildly bad as he waited for Ben’s answer.

Great detail. I’ll be sure to fill Molly in.

Glad I could help. Don’t you have baby furniture to assemble or something?

Already done two months ago.

Of course it was. He couldn’t even begrudge his brother. He and Molly deserved all the happiness and this baby. Between their mother, who basically told everyone who made eye contact with her that she was about to become a grandmother, and Ben, who sadly had started telling everyone he was about to become a father, things in Shadow Creek were getting a little too over the top. But he was happy for them. Then go bring Molly some coffee or something.

Done.

He frowned. Go to work.

It’s my day off. Which reminds me, Mom is harassing me about Christmas. When are you coming back?

Ugh. He put the phone down on the island. They never gave up. If he had been on a vacation, Ben would have asked him when he was planning on getting his lazy ass back to work. But his brother hadn’t asked him once when he was coming back or when he’d be ready to be evaluated. It pissed him off. Because that meant Ben didn’t think he should come back. But he could. He didn’t want Ben to write him off. It was still early days with an injury like this. He ignored his brother’s question and stared out the window at the pristine white snow, the same view day after day.

He was going stir-crazy in this place. He had never been in one place for so long. Melody here was definitely going to make his life a bit more complicated. It would mean he’d have to hide the way he was struggling because he didn’t want her to report back to the family, and he certainly didn’t want her pity. If there was one thing he’d learned this year—his family could not hide pity well. But she didn’t strike him as the pity type. She did look like she was hiding something, though. As far as he knew, she was single, so it probably wasn’t a bad break up or anything. It couldn’t be career related because she was as brilliant as Molly was, and those two had achieved more than people twice their ages. It could be their mother—she was a disaster, and he only knew half the story there.

When he’d walked in the kitchen this morning, there had been a sadness on her face, as clear as the blue sky outside. So maybe he wasn’t the only one running. Maybe that would make her stay less intrusive. They could just stay on different schedules and interact as little as possible.

He glanced over at the remaining green smoothie in the Vitamix and decided to pour himself a glass. It would be stupid to waste it. He could use all the energy he could get anyway. As soon as she was finished in the gym, he was going to prove to himself that he was getting better. He just needed to work harder, to rebuild the damaged muscle. In the meantime, he would research other opportunities on his own.

…

Melody scowled at the instructor’s face on the Barre app as the woman gracefully and easily stretched her long legs in front of her and then lowered her upper body until she touched her toes. How the heck could she do that? The instructor folded her top half over her bottom half like a perfectly pressed sheet.

Melody gritted her teeth and paused the segment and attempted to do the same, except she only made it to her shins. This was ridiculous. She was in good shape. She ran. And she ran around the hospital, on her feet for hours a day. How hard was it to fold over like that? She tried again and swore when she felt something snap. She clutched her lower back. Clearly her muscles didn’t work like that. Fine. That was fine. Baby steps. She would try again tomorrow. And then the next.

She rubbed her lower back and eyed the treadmill. Maybe she’d just stick with running. Running had always agreed with her. It was a perfectly acceptable way to relieve stress. Maybe yoga and all that stuff was just overrated. She could drink decaf tea if she needed to relax.

Or she could just not exercise at all…and just mope around on the house all day, avoiding Christmas movies. She sat up a little straighter and rolled her shoulders. She could drink coffee, put on a warm sweater, and pretend that she wasn’t running away from life. She could eat all the comfort food she’d brought and not worry about achieving any kind of goals other than brushing her teeth and showering. Yes, she could totally run away from life.

Except life was upstairs—in very fine form, thanks to Finn. Staring at the treadmill, she went back and forth about exercising and realized this was the first time in her life where she was avoiding it. Normally, she used it as a way to stay strong and energetic in a demanding job or for stress relief. She didn’t need that anymore. Who cared if she was strong and energetic? Stress? She had none now.

She stood and stared at the treadmill. She didn’t want to go on it. She could hear her mother’s voice telling her not to put on weight like Addie, telling her if she ever wanted to be as thin as Molly she’d have to put in the hard work. She crossed her arms and turned her head from the treadmill. Brushing away the disappointment in herself and the guilt, she turned off the lights and headed back upstairs. It was okay to take a break from everything every once in a while.

“Finished already?” Finn said as she entered the great room. He was sitting at the island with his laptop open and drinking coffee.

She didn’t want to tell him that she hadn’t worked out at all. Normally, that would have sent her into a spiral of guilt and self-loathing. Melody didn’t quit, and Melody didn’t run away from hard things. Until now. She shrugged and made her way to the coffeemaker. “Just a bit under the weather today,” she said, pouring a cup, keeping her back to Finn.

Finn was going to be another complication for her. He was chatty and pleasant—well, he was before, and she assumed that even if he wasn’t the same now, he was probably more social than she was. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone. She didn’t want to answer why she hadn’t worked out. She just didn’t want to. She’d had to answer to her mother her entire life, to be told that no matter what she did, it wasn’t good enough. She’d been set up to compete with Molly—only Molly had no idea. But their mother had pitted Melody against her, using Melody’s desire to have her mother’s affections as a way to fuel a one-sided competition.

But Melody had learned the truth two years ago and had been left reeling. Her entire life had been one big manipulation. She didn’t even know who she would have been if she hadn’t been forced in a certain direction. Would she have even been a doctor? Or had she really done all of this to please her mother? She had turned away so many opportunities for a social life, true friends, guys, everything because she had been so focused on her career goals—but she didn’t know if it had just all been to prove to her mother that she was good enough. How could she have not seen that until two years ago, after reconnecting with her sisters?

Finn and his older brother were so close. He would never understand the kind of sister she’d been to Molly. Melody had been jealous and resentful of Molly. She’d let herself be manipulated by their mom, and when Molly needed her most, she hadn’t been there. She would never forgive herself for that. He and Ben were well-rounded and perfect. It was hard to be around people this well-adjusted. She would make sure she didn’t use the Vitamix until later in the morning, though. She’d felt really guilty when he’d walked in with circles under his eyes. He clearly hadn’t slept enough.

“You okay?” Finn asked, his deep voice laced with worry as he shut the lid on his laptop and gave her his full attention.

She took a sip of coffee and avoided facing him. “Yeah. Just burned out. I figured there’s no point in pushing myself. I’m supposed to be here to relax. I might just spend the day on the couch.”

“Well, this is a good place to recharge. There is literally nothing around here for miles. No interruptions, no drop-in guests, no noise. It’s perfect. Sometimes, I see deer. Most mornings, actually,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows and glanced out the window. “That’s a nice way to start the day. I could get used to that.” With a smile, she turned back to him. “How will you ever go back?”

He shrugged and stood. “It won’t be easy. But I guess I’ll know when the time is right. I can’t stay here forever. I’ll have to get back to regular life. I’m not actually sure I’ll be going back to Shadow Creek, though. I haven’t exactly committed one way or the other.”

She held onto the mug a little tighter, wanting to know more about his plans, because right now never going back sounded like the perfect plan. “Really? You would give it all up?”

His jaw clenched. “Some days, I don’t think I have a choice. I don’t know if I’ll ever be what I used to be. Other days, I think it will just take time and I need to learn how to be patient. But no matter what, if I go back to Shadow Creek, I’ll have to face everyone at the fire station, and it’s not something I’m prepared to do. Because if I’m not physically able, seeing everyone there will hurt like hell,” he said, bracing his arms on the counter and looking out the window.

Her heart squeezed with sympathy. But she understood the pressure and the need to stay away. It dawned on her that he was much better at articulating his feelings than she was. He was also better at sharing. He and Ben came from a normal family, though. Their dad had been beloved by the town and his family, and he was good-natured and loving. Their mother, Marjorie, was a total sweetheart, and she knew both Finn and Ben adored her. There had been so many secrets and betrayal in her own family that she hadn’t realized how dysfunctional they all were until she was an adult, and even then, she hadn’t discovered the true extent of it.

She took another sip of her coffee, knowing she should say something. Her gaze trailed the strong lines of his body, and it was difficult to imagine that he might not be physically able to be a firefighter again. He was obviously in top shape, but she knew that the damage to his leg had been severe. Surgery could only do so much. “Time can do a lot, Finn. I know it’s hard to be patient, but it might take a few more months to get you to where you need to be. You can’t give up and think you’ll stay at this point forever.”

He hung his head. “I know. I also can’t live in hope. I love having this time up here, away from all the pressure and just able to concentrate on getting strong again, but sometimes I think it’s useless. Progress is so damn slow. What if it takes five years of just concentrating on myself? I can’t do that. That’s not a life, not the one I want. I haven’t not worked for so long since I was in school. I don’t really know how to take this much time off.”

She could understand that. On so many levels. Her injuries weren’t physical, they were emotional, and right now it felt like there was so much she needed to do to feel whole and confident again that it wasn’t realistic. It would be easier to just quit. She finished her coffee and placed her mug in the dishwasher. “You and me both. I get it. This is the first vacation I’ve had in…like forever.”

He turned around to face her, folding his arms across his wide chest and leaning against the counter. “What happened?”

She shut the dishwasher, avoiding his intense stare. She wasn’t used to sharing her mistakes. Growing up with her mother and having her mother involved even when she was an adult meant never making mistakes like a normal human. As a child, any grade lower than a ninety was seen as failure and another indication of how she’d never be as brilliant as Molly. It’s a wonder she, Molly, and Addie had ever reclaimed their friendship.

What had happened in that OR room would haunt her forever. She had never expected it to hurt so much, which was why she’d spent the last few days forcing it into a tiny box in the dark back corner of her brain. It was something she never wanted to unbox, let alone speak of to anyone. She had never been able to admit her mistakes to her mother without being ridiculed and belittled. Those memories had twisted her up so completely that she lived in constant fear of opening up. Never let anyone see you fail had been her MO since childhood. “Uh, just, work stuff. I think I’ve just been pushing for too long and it caught up with me.”

If he knew she was lying—and she suspected he did—she was grateful that he didn’t call her out on it. Especially since he’d been so open. Instead, he cleared his throat. “We all get that, I guess. I hope you’re able to work out what you need to up here. I think I’ll head down to the gym if you’re sure you don’t need it.”

She shot him a smile, relieved that he’d dropped the subject and was now leaving. “Yeah. I’ll try harder tomorrow,” she said.

Something flashed across his blue eyes, and his face softened. “It’s okay to not be a superstar every day,” he said, his voice gentle and without judgment as he crossed the room.

She didn’t respond as he left because she didn’t know what to say. No one had ever told her that. Do better, try harder had been her life motto. With one sentence, he made her feel like it was okay to not always be the best.

She just wished that could be enough.