Chapter 12

"Okay," Claire muttered to herself, stretching out her arms and shoulders. "What's next?"

She looked at the to-do list that had become her constant companion lately. She'd made lots of decisions for the shop already, and today was painting day.

Which meant Liam Hiller was coming to work with her.

As she took an inventory of her muscles, checking for any aches and pains—which were a common symptom of lupus, but one she'd fortunately kept under control even during the hard work of preparing the shop—she reminded herself not to get too excited. Liam was nice, of course, and extremely handsome. She even thought that sometimes she detected a hint of a flirtatious vibe from him.

But he wasn't staying in Whale Harbor, which meant that a relationship between them likely wasn't in the cards. And besides, she was technically employing him. She needed to maintain professional boundaries so she didn't make him feel uncomfortable or like she had only hired him because she was attracted to him.

It doesn't help when he shows up looking so good though,she told herself with an internal chuckle when Liam arrived a few minutes later.

Since the ‘False Spring' picnic, the weather had turned cold again, proving true March's adage that it came ‘in like a lion, out like a lamb.' They were still in ‘lion' season. The blustery weather had turned Liam's cheeks a cheerful pink.

"Hey," she greeted as he entered.

"Hey yourself," he returned, closing the door behind him. She approached, then extended her hand for a handshake just as he opened his arms for a hug. She ended up poking him in the stomach.

"Sorry," he said, face sheepish. "Was that too familiar?"

"Not at all," she assured him.

The moment had passed, however, so she didn't try to go back in for another hug. He turned to hang his jacket, still seeming a little embarrassed. Claire tried not to be sorry that she'd missed her chance.

Don't encourage your crush! she reminded herself.

"Okay!" she said briskly, not wanting to push Liam to linger on the slightly awkward greeting. "So basically today is all painting. I have this really nice soft mauve that will go on the walls in here, and the ceiling is going to be this eggshell color." She held up the two paint cards that correlated with the colors she'd referenced. "Then in the back room, the ceiling will be the same, but the walls are going to be green." She lifted another card.

"These are great colors," he said, taking the cards from her fingers. "They're not boring white or gray, but they're also muted enough that the flowers will pop against them."

"That's what I was thinking!" Oh man, it felt good to have somebody understand her vision. She'd been so consumed with the endless decision-making that went into opening a store that it felt like a much-needed touch with reality to hear someone say that she'd done a good job.

"Anyway," she continued, "I was thinking I could start doing edges and some of the lower areas and you could do the higher-up stuff?"

He shot her a teasing look. "Oh, so you're just using me for my height, then?"

She pretended to look shocked. "I can't believe you would think so little of me, Liam Hiller!"

For a while they worked in comfortable silence, Claire sitting on the floor to paint along the trim, Liam using the roller to work on the ceiling. When she stretched, working on the kinks in her back from hunching over, she saw Liam doing the inverse, stretching his arms against the craning upward he had to do to reach the ceiling.

"Phew," he said. "You're doing it too. I didn't want you to think you'd hired an old man to help you out around here."

"Painting is hard work!" she exclaimed.

"It really is," he agreed. "You might think I'm conceited for saying it, but I'm always kind of surprised when I get achy from more ‘regular' tasks, since my normal job is as a firefighter."

She shook her head. "I don't think that's conceited at all. I bet you have to exercise all the time to be a firefighter, and that's on top of the hard work of actually fighting the fires."

"Yeah, we do." He leaned his paint roller, which was attached to a long pole, against the floor, careful to keep the paint-covered part on the tarps Claire had laid out. "We have a whole gym in the firehouse though, so that does make it a little easier."

"Are you missing that part of your routine now that you're in Whale Harbor?" she asked. She leaned back against a part of the wall that was still paint-free. "We probably don't have a gym in town that's like what you're used to."

He shook his head. "Surprisingly, no. Or maybe it's not that surprising, actually. Part of why I came here was to get some space from my job and my whole identity as a firefighter. Get some perspective."

She nodded carefully. Liam had hinted at some work troubles before, but she hadn't wanted to pry. She was curious though, even as she wanted to respect his privacy.

"If you ever want to talk about it," she offered, "your reasons for coming to town, I mean. I'm a good listener and I promise not to push you to reveal any more than you want to."

He gave her a grateful smile and settled on the floor next to her. "That would be kind of nice, actually. I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about all of it."

"No pressure," she promised. She knew what it was like to have people pry into her health, to constantly badger her about how she was feeling. Even when it came from a place of love and care, she knew it could rankle. She wasn't about to do that to Liam.

He paused for a moment before speaking again. "So you won't be surprised to hear that being a firefighter is a high-pressure job. Basically every situation is an emergency, circumstances can change in an instant, and the stakes are life and death."

She nodded, wanting to show she was listening without interrupting. As he spoke though, she felt a tight knot of admiration for him in her chest. He was so brave, spending his life charging into fires to help other people. And he still managed to speak about doing so like it was no big deal, like risking his life for others was just another day on the job.

"A lot of firefighters burn out. And I never thought I would be one of them, but with some perspective, I think the constant stress was starting to wear me down. And then there was this one call that went bad."

She couldn't stifle her sharp intake of breath. He gave her a reassuring glance.

"Nobody died," he told her, and she felt some of the tension in her shoulders evaporate. "And I don't really want to go over all the details, since one of my goals while I'm here it to stop constantly going over the details in my head, but…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Basically, I needed to make a split-second decision and I chose wrong, and someone got hurt. I wasn't in trouble or anything. Nobody else blamed me for it. But I couldn't seem to stop blaming myself. Can't stop blaming myself, I guess. It got in my head and I started second-guessing all my other decisions, which can be insanely dangerous during an active fire."

He fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant.

"So you came here," Claire gently prompted.

She sensed Liam come back to the present. He smiled. "So I came here," he agreed. "I saw Monica's place on a list of BBs, remembered Dominic had moved here, and just threw some clothes into the back of my car and came."

"Well," she said lightly, injecting some much-needed levity into the heaviness of their conversation. "Don't keep me in suspense. What do you think? Does Whale Harbor pass muster?"

He gave her a playful eye roll. "Yes, obviously," he joked. "Have you seen this place? It's like a town off a postcard. It's so nice and everyone is so welcoming. And," he added, bumping his shoulder against hers, "there's going to be this amazing flower shop opening up."

"A town is nothing without a good flower shop," she agreed.

"In all seriousness though," he said, joking tone evaporating, "I think coming here was really good for me. It is really good for me. I needed time and space to recognize it, but I feel more like myself here than I have in a very long time."

It felt probing to ask, and it probably revealed more than she wanted to about her own feelings, but she couldn't help herself.

"Are you thinking about staying, then?" She tried to hide the hopeful note in her tone.

Liam paused, weighing the question. "I don't know for sure," he said eventually. "When I first arrived, I would have said definitely not. I was heading back to Boston for sure. But now…" He tsked. "It's a possibility. At the very least, I know I'm not in a hurry to get back to Boston any time soon."

He shot her a self-deprecating look.

"That probably sounds like a total non-answer, huh? Do I seem like I'm totally lost?"

"Not at all," she assured him. "You sound like somebody who is smart enough to take the time to figure things out. When you were talking, you kept referencing getting perspective. It sounds like part of what you've already learned is that there's wisdom to knowing that you don't know something yet."

He smiled at her, warm and affectionate, and reached out to give her hand a quick squeeze. She tried not to focus too much on how nice that little gesture felt.

"Thanks, Claire," he said seriously.

She reversed their grips and gave his hand a quick squeeze in return, just a tiny acknowledgment, before letting go.

"For what it's worth," she said, shifting her weight away from the wall so she could get back to working again, "as a Whale Harbor native, I can officially say that the town would love to have you. Dominic may have mentioned, but newcomers to town are always welcomed… usually more than they want to be," she added with a laugh.

"I heard some grumbling in that regard," he said, chuckling as he rose to his feet.

"And," she went on, "if you like the town now, you should see it when we're not all freezing our butts off. Summers here are incredible. Stick around until summer and you'll definitely find that you never want to leave."

"Gosh, Claire, don't try to chase me out of town so quickly," he quipped. He gave his shoulders one last stretch, then added more paint to his roller. "You make it sound so terrible here."

She focused her eyes on where she was painting the edge of the wall. "I'm just saying, there are definitely worse places to live. You know. If you wanted an insider's perspective."

"It's nice to know that I have your approval if I decide to stick around." His voice was low, almost shy.

She bit her lip and painted a long stripe before responding. "Yeah," she said, feeling a little sheepish at the admission. "You definitely have my vote to stay."

And though they went back to painting in a comfortable silence, Claire had the distinct impression that Liam had liked hearing that almost as much as she'd liked saying it.