Her mother’s eyes widened. “No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because of your father. He took on another man’s child and raised it as his own. He’s a good man, and I won’t have him become the subject of town gossip or have Logan harbor any ill will toward him. You know how people are around here. He doesn’t deserve that.”
“But Logan deserves to know. Even if no one else ever finds out, he should know the truth.”
“What good will the truth do, Pepper? It will only hurt people, like it’s hurt you. I regret that I’ve had to keep these secrets, but I couldn’t risk Norman retaliating if the truth got out. If we were smart, we would’ve moved far from Rosewood and no one would’ve ever known the truth, but this was our home. I wasn’t going to be run off by the Chamberlains. In the end, things worked out the way they were meant to. I love Logan, and have since the moment I found out about him. I made the choices I had to make to protect him. I found the best father I could
for you and Logan. You are both our children in every way that matters.”
“He can’t go on not knowing who he really is. Logan needs to know that his business rival is actually his father.”
“I can’t do it, Pepper. You just don’t understand how hard this is. I couldn’t even admit the truth to you until you figured it out for yourself.”
Pepper swallowed the lump in her throat. “You will, Mama. Or I will.”
Thursday night, as Grant prepared to head home from the firehouse, he found himself at a loss. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself in the evenings anymore. He’d spent so much time with Pepper that it felt odd to return home to his loft apartment and not see her. He missed her. He liked sleeping with her in his arms. He enjoyed waking up with Pepper and her crazy morning hair, and sharing a cup of coffee. And yet, he didn’t want to constantly show up at her place and make a pest of himself.
When he told her he’d never seriously dated anyone, he’d meant it. He wasn’t entirely sure how to handle things. He’d also never found himself in the position where he wanted to see a woman every day. He’d thought at first that he was just intrigued by her because she turned him down. Pepper had been a new challenge. But now that they were past that point in their relationship . . . he still wanted her. She wasn’t just beautiful and infuriating. She was smart and funny. She was adventurous enough to jump on his motorcycle and drive with no destination in mind, but cautious enough to temper any crazy, reckless thoughts that might run through his head, like popping a wheelie on the bike to show off.
Leaving the fire station, he went down to where he’d parked his truck: a 1986 Chevy Silverado. It was hardly a glamorous ride; older than Grant was, the silver and burgundy paint was fading, it had rusty spots, and the seats squeaked with every bump in the road. But, it did the job it was intended to do.
As a southern man, Grant was obligated to own a truck.
Grant only drove it when the weather was bad or he needed to haul something around. Today, weather had made the choice. It had been a cold, wet few days—typical February weather for Alabama—and he’d had to park the bike for a while. Not even his waterproof leather gear could fight off the bone-chill that set in at higher speed.
Starting up the engine and cranking the heat, Grant turned toward Pepper’s house instead of his loft. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d be received, but he couldn’t help it, the truck just instinctively drove that way.
He and Pepper had parted awkwardly on Monday night. He hadn’t meant to clam up when the conversation strayed to his father, but he also hadn’t wanted to ruin dinner talking about him. It had been a splash of cold water on the evening and it never really recovered. He’d driven her back to her car and went home to sleep in his own bed, alone.
Since then, life in Rosewood had been taken up by Estelle’s funeral. They had texted back and forth a couple of times, but he hadn’t seen her since he dropped her off outside the salon.
He didn’t know if that was a long time or not in a normal relationship, but to him, it felt like years.
This was something he’d never had before. Something he never thought he would have. At least, something he believed he was doomed to ruin, like his father had.
“I’m not my father,” Grant said silently to himself. If he wanted Pepper in his life, he could make this work. He needed to man up and take his life by the horns or he would end up one of those pathetic old bachelors who tries to pick up women in the bar and makes an ass of himself. Somehow that seemed even worse than becoming like his father.
His truck rolled to a stop outside Pepper’s house. Her red SUV was in the driveway and the lights were shining through her covered windows. He tapped at her front door, waiting anxiously until she answered.
The door swung open, revealing Pepper in a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and Ugg boots. She’d pulled her red curls back into a ponytail, looking casual, but cute. And she was smiling.
“You’re just in time,” she said cheerfully.
He was? “Good. Just in time for what?”
Pushing the door open, Pepper revealed her living room, which was scattered with various lengths and sizes of laminated particle board. “In time to help me put together my new entertainment center.”
“Of course,” he said with a chuckle as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Lucky me.”
Pepper smiled and returned to her spot on the floor where she was reading the directions. In front of her was the start of the furniture—a set of three assembled cubes, one divided with a shelf for a Blu-ray player or DVR. “Grab yourself a beer from the fridge and join me.”
He grabbed a long-neck bottle from the fridge, slipped out of his coat, and sat down on the hardwood floor beside her. He glanced over the instructions and handed her the piece labeled “F”. “How was your day?” he asked.
She shrugged, focused on attaching piece F to piece M with a wooden dowel. “It was a little slow today. After all the excitement of the auction and the funeral, things seem to have finally settled back down. How about you? Anything burn down?”
Grant held the wood so she could screw a number four screw into it. “Not today. It’s too cold and wet.”