7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Jordan

I hauled a six-pack of beer in both hands as I made my way up the path to Gramps’s house. The white rancher featured in so many of my childhood memories that seeing it always thumped me right in the chest.

Cars glutted up the driveway and road, which meant I was probably the last to arrive, but what else was new? I’d settled into my role of family fuckup along with Sadie years ago, but my position allowed a lot of room for leeway. I didn’t need to strive to be the best because that role already belonged to Coop and Daisy.

Some days, I wanted my family to see me differently though. For them to be pleasantly surprised instead of disappointed. Mom and Dad didn’t treat me like they were, but it was hard not to hear the constant comparisons of folks around town. Oh, Daisy’s kids were such a delight. Coop just helped a thousand little old ladies in a row. Henry…well, Henry was the only one out of our family who wasn’t really talked about.

Though, I couldn’t help but wonder what the family would think about my new discovery .

I’d spent most of last night with Rogue, which had ended with another frotting session before I’d peeled myself off his couch and headed home. By the time I’d gotten back, my roommates were asleep, so I hadn’t needed to explain where I’d been.

Truthfully, Hal and Chad would accept the answer “hookup” no problem, but concealing Rogue and me felt dirty. I’d never been one for hiding anything about my life, and I didn’t want to start now, but I also had to make sure Rogue was on the same page.

Not everyone wanted their name splashed around town in relation to me.

A sourness settled in my stomach. Most of the time my reputation didn’t bother me, but lately, it’d been following me around more than normal.

As I stepped inside, the wall of noise slammed my way, along with the scent of old books in the air mingling with orange, probably from the peels Gramps always saved. I followed the sounds to the kitchen. Coop and Logan sat at the table with Gramps and Henry, and they all were engaged in some intense discussion. Guaranteed on boring shit, like taxes or book collections.

“Hey, Jordan.” Logan waved. My brother’s twink of a boyfriend was the smartass sunshine to his grump, and I liked that he regularly shook things up for Coop.

I gave him an up-nod. “I’ve got the beer here. Anyone want one?” Logan nodded, as did Coop. I slipped the six-packs into the fridge and snagged three bottles, delivering two to them and keeping one for me. “What are you guys talking about?”

“What the bookstore should do for the holidays this year,” Gramps said, his eyes twinkling. “My reenactment of A Christmas Carol over at Geraldine’s got vetoed. ”

I snorted. “Out of anyone, she needs a three-ghost visit.” I cracked open my beer and took a swig, the cooling liquid sliding down my throat. Logan’s gaze lingered on me as if he’d sussed out I hid something. That one was more insightful than anyone gave him credit for. My skin prickled. I didn’t need to mention hooking up with Rogue to tell my family I was bi.

“Oh look,” Daisy said, sweeping into the room. “The town troublemaker has arrived.” She grinned at me, and my heart sank. Daisy was teasing, and she wasn’t wrong. I had just gotten smacked with community service for doing something stupid. However, just once, I wanted my family to ask me about the sweet-ass 1967 Chevy Camaro I was restoring for a customer, not whatever town gossip had stirred up about me.

Truth be told, their comments never used to bother me. But the last year or so, after being in another dead-end relationship and watching so many friends and family start finding their groove, yeah, maybe I was a little jealous. And maybe I wanted to find something that was mine. Someone who saw me as more than the “town troublemaker.”

Fat chance of discovering that in Collier’s Creek.

“Where’s your brood?” I peeked around for Harrison and Jessie.

“Out in the backyard. Should I tell them their favorite horsey is here?”

“Nah, this horse has gone to the glue factory.” I tipped the bottle back and let the cool liquid soak through me.

“Jordan.” Daisy smacked me. “They could come in at any minute.”

“It’s good to learn where things are from,” I said with a sniff, clutching the neck of my beer. Logan snorted, unable to hide his amusement, and Gramps ducked his head while Coop and Daisy glared at me .

“Hey,” Mom said, slipping into the room. “Can I get your help moving a box upstairs, Jordan?”

Gramps scowled. “You’re not going through my hardback books, are you?”

“Patty gave me permission. If the two of you are moving in together, you’re going to need to make space.” Mom placed her hands on her hips. “Stacked in heaps in one of the empty bedrooms upstairs doesn’t work for an organization system.”

“Want to tell him that at the bookstore?” Coop joked.

“Excuse you. Our bookstore is meticulously organized.” Logan flicked Coop in the side. “And you’re one to talk. I don’t think heaps of leather strewn about a workshop counts for decor.”

“Please help me move some of these boxes of books,” Mom said to me, her tone firm. I placed my beer on the counter and followed her to one of the spare bedrooms in Gramps’s place. He had a whole bookstore he used to collect books, but his obsession teetered into his home as well from some of the framed quotes of his favorites to the full bookshelves he nestled into any free space he could.

True to her word, at least ten boxes filled with hardbacks lined the walls.

“Putting me to work the second I get here?” I teased and reached for the first box.

Mom placed a hand on my arm. “I am, but I also had ulterior motives.”

My heart sank. We hadn’t talked alone since the whole tree-lighting incident, and while my siblings ribbed me about it, Mom and Dad were most likely disappointed. I braced myself for the blow. About a dozen flippant remarks rotated, waiting for an opening. Being in a family this big, I was an old hat at redirecting.

“Is everything okay? You’ve seemed off since the breakup with…crap, was her name Gemma?” Mom’s brow creased in concern.

I opened my mouth—whether to correct her to Leah or deflect, I wasn’t sure—but she kept going.

“Not like I thought you two were desperately in love, but you’ve always been my carefree, sunshine boy, Jordan.” Mom ruffled her fingers through my hair like I was still five and not twenty-five. “Ever since then, you’ve been quieter, more contemplative.”

I squeezed my nape, unable to look at Mom. Embarrassment rushed through me at being so seen, at how she wasn’t even bringing up my fuckups but cared enough to check in with me.

The words “I’m bi” were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them down. That wasn’t what she’d asked about, and I hadn’t dwelled on my sexuality more than a quick realization. “I…” The temptation to crack a joke rose, but I also knew my mother. She was one of the few people who would see through my deflections. “I’m tired of being a bullshit joke to the town. Not that I want to shift jobs and get a personality makeover. I like who I am, but I guess…I’m not sure where I fit in anymore.”

I looked up at last, and Mom stood with her arms crossed, a soft smile on her lips.

“I’d say you belong with us, but I feel like you’d give me sass back,” Mom said. “Just understand what you’re going through is normal. Growing pains, sweetheart. Finding where you belong or who you belong with isn’t easy. And while you might change a little in the process, I believe the core of you will remain the same. You’re still always going to be carefree, and that’s a good thing. There’s far too much seriousness in the family. We need people who tip the scales.”

My chest squeezed tight, and I crossed the space between us and wrapped my arms around her .

“Thanks,” I muttered, my voice a little gruffer than normal.

“Anytime.” Mom returned the hug. When we pulled apart, an impish grin was on her lips. “I was serious though. I do need your help to haul these boxes to storage in the basement. Your Gramps is what we civilized folk like to call a hoarder of books.”

“I heard that,” he called from the other room. “I’m a dragon, not a hoarder.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Right, well, let’s get this dragon’s stash moved to the basement so his fiancée won’t be tripping over hardbacks of Discworld left and right.”

“At least Gramps has good taste.” I hefted one of the boxes into my arms and set off. Thoughts jangled through my brain like I was stuck in a pinball machine. Over the past year, I’d been searching for something intangible, and the aimlessness filtering through my veins wasn’t the norm for me.

Except one person had been lighting up my days.

And the second I left here, I would hit him up.