Page 5 of A Season Of Sin

Pulling it from my pocket, I hand it over, and he uses my face to unlock the screen before typing in his number and texting himself. He returns my phone just as flecks of ice begin to spit from the sky. We both curse and laugh as he taps something on his screen, and mine buzzes in my hand.

“You have my address. Come by whenever. I’m home today,” Jace says. Then he turns and jogs across the parking lot, where I watch him climb into a green pickup truck, as I get into the van.

After I turn over the engine, I check his text.

Kid.

I snicker at the name he put himself under.

Kid: Don’t be a pussy. We’ll see you soon. You’re not a burden. We got the room.

Attached is his address.

Fine.

Throwing my phone on the passenger seat, I grip the steering wheel and sigh. I suppose spending a few days with Jace and his wife isn’t such a bad idea. It is the holiday season. Perhaps she has some decorations that need to be put up. I could do that as I wait for the next drop-off for the club.

Another gust of wind rocks the van as I pull out of the parking lot and turn right.

Before Jace’s, I need to drop by the store. I can’t show up empty-handed. Only assholes do that, and while I might like assholes, I’m not one.

At least not most of the time.

Three

Fuck.

Sweat beads on the back of my neck as I stare at Jace’s house from his driveway.

Why am I so goddamn nervous?

Sure, I don’t socialize much, but we’ve known each other for years. He isn’t a stranger, even if his wife is. I’m sure she’s lovely. I can’t imagine Jace marrying a bitch.

Their house is beautiful.

Far nicer than I expected.

It’s an older, two-story, well-maintained colonial, as white as the snow covering the sidewalk, with navy blue accents.

Jace throws open the front door and leans his shoulder against the frame. The wind whips his face, forcing him to squint as he stares into the yard, patiently waiting. He doesn’t beckon me to get my ass in gear, but he doesn’t have to. His presence is enough to get me moving. Chiding myself for being such a pussy, I collect my duffel and the five bags of shit I bought from the store before I get out. He meets me at the top step to help carry my stuff inside.

“What the hell is all this?” he asks as I follow him through the front door, down a hardwood hallway, and into a stunning, updated kitchen with pristine travertine floors. He sets the bags on the island.

Sliding my duffle off my shoulder, I gently set it on the floor and whistle, impressed at the sheer size of this room—tall ceilings, intricate moldings, a historian lover’s dream. “This is fuckin’ amazing,” I praise, and there goes Jace’s blush again as he unpacks the groceries.

“It’s been a lot of work. It’s mostly Gracie.”

“Mostly Gracie, how?” I ask, resting my hands on the cool stone counter as I soak up every inch of this space—from the floral pictures on the wall to the blue cabinets.

“My firefighter salary could never afford any of this.” He sweeps his hand toward the top-of-the-line gas five-burner stove and pot faucet tucked against the wall. They look like something straight out of HGTV. “Civil service, while it might be the right thing to do, the pay is shit. Gracie got into social media a few years ago when we bought this place, and she’s been sharing part of our lives and the renovations on her social media since. The more followers and views we get, the more we can afford to do.”

“So, you’re the gold digger?” I tease, wagging my eyebrows and grinning.

Jace’s middle finger appears as his lips split into a grin. “Fuck you.” He huffs a laugh and dumps the apples I bought into a basket with similar fruit. “We were both dirt poor growing up. We’re the first in our families to go to college and do something with our lives. Gracie uses some of her social media income to help others in need, and she bought a trailer for her older sister last year. She’s a single mom of two, and Gracie wanted to help. It’s her money. I don’t care what she does with it. I’m not fond of her sister, but she’s family.”

Not knowing what to say to that, since I ain’t got any family or social media, I nod along as I listen.

Sliding behind the island with Jace, I help him put the rest of what I brought away. He skids my new jar of protein powder to me and nods toward the corner by the fridge full of supplements. “You’re welcome to use whatever you want.”