Only in Your Dreams (The Mountains are Calling #2)

7. Finley

Owning my own business is one of the hardest and easiest things I’ve ever done. Hard in all the ways you’d expect—long hours, unreliable pay, figuring out how to do all the things no one ever taught me to do. But it also has its perks—being my own boss, setting my own hours, and taking long lunch breaks with my best friend whenever I feel like it.

Like right now, for example.

I let myself into Nora’s craftsman-style house, not bothering with knocking, since it will never be heard over the sound of her toddler’s screeching laughter, and definitely not trying the doorbell that’s been broken since she moved in. Paper bags full of sandwiches from the deli crinkle in my hands as I kick the door shut behind me, yelling, “Nora, I’m here.”

A moment later, her head of dark hair piled into a messy bun pops around the corner. She’s got a relieved smile on her face, the kind of happy, tired one that every mom of young kids always seems to sport. Like she’s absolutely exhausted down to her bones but wouldn’t have it any other way. Sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror, and I notice the missing lines on my forehead, the way the skin under my eyes is bright, the smooth skin on my stomach where stretch marks would be, I find myself wishing for those “imperfections” that Nora complains about. They’re proof of a life that I’d give anything to live.

“I love you,” she says when I step into her kitchen and drop the lunch bags on her messy marble countertops. There’s flour and dirty dishes from breakfast, a sticky residue that I’d guess is syrup.

“Finny,” Veer squeals, running on chunky, wobbly legs to wrap himself around my calves.

Bending down, I heft him onto my hip, nuzzling my nose in the crook of his neck. “Hello, my favorite boy in the entire world,” I say into his skin, then turn back to Nora. Relief is painted on her face. Her husband’s dirty, oversized T-shirt hangs off her shoulders and a pair of pajama pants that we bought in high school covers her bottom half, hers sporting a hole in the knee that mine is free of. “Long morning?”

She nods, letting out a sigh as she sags against the counter. “Devina was up all night teething and hasn’t stopped crying all morning. I just got her down for a nap.”

I wince, looking in the direction of her room, the last door at the end of the long hallway. “Was I too loud when I came in?”

“No,” she says, barking out a tired laugh. “The sound machine is up so loud that she wouldn’t be able to hear a freight train.”

My lips roll together to hold in my smile. “Well, I brought lunch.”

“I could kiss you,” she says, digging in the bags.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Raj too, probably.” She pauses, tilting her head back and forth as if considering. “Well, maybe he wouldn’t care.”

“That’s very generous of him,” I respond, smoothing my hand over Veer’s soft baby hair. “I’ll stick with my decision, regardless.”

She flashes me a grin before opening one of the sandwiches and letting out a groan. “You got me a meatball sub?” She says this as if I just offered to give her my liver.

“Yes, Nora. We’ve been friends for two and a half decades now. I know what sandwiches you like,” I deadpan, setting Veer down when he begins to wiggle in my arms.

“I’m putting you in my will.”

“I’m offended you haven’t already.”

The kitchen table is covered in baby toys and laundry, so the two of us settle onto the barstools at the counter, pushing breakfast dishes out of the way, and eat our subs on the deli paper. I nod at the third sub in the bag. “I brought turkey and cheese for Veer.”

Nora waves me off, hooks a thumb over her shoulder to where Veer has scurried off to the living room and plopped himself on the couch. “He ate mac and cheese before you got here. He gets thirty minutes of TV before his nap. Now I can eat in peace.”

“Can I have a bite of your sub?” I ask, just to see her reaction.

Her eyes narrow at me, and she pulls the sandwich closer to her body. “You wouldn’t dare.”

A laugh bubbles up inside me, spilling out. “No, eat your lunch in peace, Nora.”

She takes a giant bite and asks around the mouthful, “So I heard things were hot and heavy between you and Grey at Matty’s the other night.”

Nora and my family are the only ones who know about the arrangement Grey and I struck, so it should make me happy that we set the rumor mill running Saturday night, but instead it makes heat climb up my cheeks. He was different that night. I’ve never had his casual charm, his easy flirtation, directed at me, but that isn’t even what that was. Instead, it was an intense focus, a hand splayed low on my stomach, the rasp of his voice in my ear, his stubble scraping a line up my neck. It makes me wonder if that’s how he is when he’s interested in someone, if all the other times I’ve seen him flirting with women were times when he was just having fun. I don’t think he’s actually interested in me, but I think I might have viewed all those interactions he had with women in the wrong way. Maybe he was just making conversation with them, being his charming self, and not trying to pick them up. Maybe he’s very different when he actually wants someone. I can’t lie and say it didn’t affect me, making my skin prickle and an unfamiliar want pool low in my belly.

I don’t want Grey , but I want whatever he was doing Saturday night in Matty’s crowded bar. I’m a firm believer that you never know how much you need something until it’s been dangled in front of you and taken away. I knew I was lonely before Gus, that I wanted to get married and have the kind of life I always dreamed of as a kid, but the feeling wasn’t as acute until I almost had it and it was ripped from my grip. I didn’t know that intense focus and heavy-handed touches and a rough voice whispering in my ear were things I needed until Grey, and now I know I won’t be able to settle for anything less. Not the way Gus seemed to like touching me but didn’t act as though he had to be. Not the way he was always half-present when we were together, his phone only an arm’s length away at any given moment, in case someone else needed him.

I can’t settle for that kind of relationship again. And I know that after one evening where Grey pretended he couldn’t get enough of me.

“I guess,” I bring myself to say to Nora.

She arches one dark, thick brow in a way I’ve always been jealous of. Her kids will absolutely never be able to pull anything over on her.

“I heard you were sitting in his lap.”

My eyes roll, but I know she can see my flush.

She leans forward, putting her nose right in my face, eyes wide as saucers. “Finley Blankenship, you liked it.”

I wave my Italian sub in front of her, forcing her to move back out of my space. We both watch as a banana pepper flies out to land on the counter. “I didn’t like it,” I protest, but I know she doesn’t believe me.

I’m not sure if I believe myself either. I didn’t like sitting on Grey’s lap specifically. I just liked being touched again. Feeling important again. Feeling like I was enough for the first time, even if it was pretend. It was nice, having all his attention focused on me. Having him stand up for me to Sarah, acting like I was his sun and his entire world revolved around me.

It made me think that after this wedding, I’ll be ready to try again for real. Put myself back out there, in all the horrifying ways that modern dating involves. If Holden could meet the love of his life on a dating app (kind of), maybe I can too. Not everything needs to be like a nineties rom-com or the dog-eared pages of my favorite romance novel. Gus walked into Unlikely Places to buy flowers for his mom’s birthday, and I thought it was a perfect meet-cute, even though we had technically known of each other for most of our lives, as it goes when you live in a small town. But regardless of our meet-cute, we had a very not cute ending. So maybe meet-cutes are overrated. Maybe the ones with staying power are the ones whose stories start in a way that would never make it into a book or movie script.

Nora raises that single eyebrow again, no doubt noticing the way I’ve disappeared into my memories.

I let out a sigh. “Okay, so maybe I did. But not in the way you’re thinking. I didn’t like it because it was Grey.”

She nods as if she understands exactly what I’m not saying. That’s the beauty of having a friend that’s seen you through every stage of life—the good, the bad, the ugly, and the embarrassing. You can read each other in a way that doesn’t require words.

“I told you that you needed to get back out there,” she says before licking marinara sauce off her pointer finger.

“It’s not that easy, Nora.”

When she looks back at me, her tired eyes have softened. “I know. That was insensitive of me.”

I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “It’s fine.”

She reaches for me, her hands falling on my shoulders to position me so she can look directly into my eyes. “You know I think you’re amazing, right?”

A chuckle slips out of me. “Yeah, Nora, I do.”

“And I think there are so many people out there who would want everything you have to offer.”

I tilt my head, sadness crushing in my chest. “Historically, that hasn’t been entirely accurate.”

“That’s because you’re only looking for someone in town limits. There are, like, three single guys in town, and two of them are old enough to be your dad.” She’s exaggerating, but the dating pool here is slim.

I am willing to date someone who doesn’t live in Fontana Ridge. But my family and business are here, and I’ve been growing roots in this town that would be too hard to dig up. I don’t want to leave, and as much as I want to find someone to share my life with, I want to find someone to share this life with, the one I’ve spent years cultivating.

“Maybe you’ll meet a sexy hiker.”

“Yes, exactly what I’m looking for,” I say flatly. “Someone passing through, with no job or home to speak of.”

A smile quirks on her lips. “Could be fun.”

I sigh. “I think I’m past wanting fun. I want steady.”

Nora looks at me, expression soft, and bumps her shoulder with mine. “You can have fun and steady, Finley. You deserve all of it. Everything love has to offer.”

The sun is just starting to make its descent toward the horizon when I close down Unlikely Places hours later. I stayed at Nora’s until Devina woke up from her nap, helping her tidy the kitchen and wash bottles and tuck Veer into his racecar bed, reading him one story after another until I finally had to make him roll over and sleep, his eyes drifting shut.

These are the best kind of days. I know Nora said I shouldn’t tether myself here, but I’m not sure how I could leave. All my favorite people live within a ten-mile radius of the town center. Every restaurant in town knows my usual order, and the librarians call me when they get new books they think I will love, setting them aside so I can take them home before they even put them on the shelves. Everything about Fontana Ridge is a comfort to me—home.

Even now, as I make my way down the sidewalk toward the fire station, a bouquet of daffodils in hand, I know I could close my eyes and make this walk by feel and smell and sound alone. I know exactly when to step over the uneven sidewalk without looking. I can smell the hops when I pass one of the breweries, and I can hear live music coming from Matty’s across the street. The jasmine trellis over the door of the tea shop perfumes the air, and just beyond that is turpentine from the furniture repair store.

I never want to leave this little slice of heaven brought down to earth.

I don’t know why, but I’m surprised when I knock on the fire station door, and Grey is the one to answer. He works twenty-four-hour shifts, followed by forty-eight hours off, so there was a good chance he’d be here, but it didn’t really cross my mind. He looks just as surprised to see me, and something about it conjures memories of the other night. Sitting in his lap at Matty’s, his nose trailing a line down my neck, his hand splaying out over my stomach, pulling me into his chest until we were touching everywhere.

“Hey.” The word sounds almost breathless. But just as quickly, his demeanor changes, morphing into the Grey I know. “You brought me flowers?” he drawls, that easy smile lifting up his lips, making the deep dimple divot his left cheek.

I give him a saccharine sweet smile. “Bend over, and I’ll put them where they belong.”

A laugh rumbles out of him, and something inside me eases. This is normal. How things should be, not whatever was happening at Matty’s. He peers behind him, hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “Come on in.”

I follow him into the station and down the cement-bricked hallway, surprised when it opens up into what looks like a college living room, full of recliners occupied by firefighters and nothing else, and a large kitchen. Two men look up from a table in the kitchen when we enter, smiling in our direction. I recognize most of them, if not by name, then at least by face.

Holding up the bouquet in my hand, I say, “I have a flower delivery for Heather.” Her husband called it in this morning because she apparently had a rough night with their baby. I thought it was so sweet that I upgraded the bouquet size free of charge.

One of the guys sitting at the long dining table, engaged in what looks to be a poker game, motions down the hall we just vacated.

“She went back to the dorm room to call her kids before bed. Should be back out in a minute.”

I nod my thanks, suddenly feeling the weight of their gazes on me, their curiosity. I’m just realizing that they’ve probably heard the rumors, that they’re waiting to see how Grey and I interact.

Glancing up at him, I see he’s already watching me, mouth hitched in a smile. “Guys,” he says, not looking away from me, “this is my girlfriend, Finley.”

The words make my insides feel warm, like taking a sip of steaming hot chocolate on a chilly winter day, feeling the heat down my throat, spreading throughout my body in increments.

His hand presses to the small of my back, just above the curve of my ass, and he nudges me toward the table in the kitchen. With his free hand, he takes the bouquet, sets it on the counter, and gestures at the man closest to us. “This is Tom.” I shake the older man’s hand. He’s probably in his midforties, with dark hair just starting to gray at the temples and deep smile lines framing his mouth. Next, Grey introduces me to Jacob, who looks closer to our age, with dark auburn hair and pale green eyes. His demeanor reminds me of Holden’s, quiet and serious, watchful.

“You should join us,” Tom says, motioning to one of the empty chairs. “We’re playing poker until we get a call. Grey’s terrible. You could take him for all he’s worth.”

This brings a smile to my face, and I aim it toward Grey, who doesn’t look the least bit bothered by the teasing. I planned to go home tonight, debate with myself about making a healthy dinner for a few hours until it’s too late to eat anything but cheese and crackers and a handful of grapes, then read a book in bed until I pass out.

This sounds more fun.

“Yeah, okay,” I say. I lift my brows at Grey, wishing I could use Nora’s single brow trick right now. “As long as that’s okay with you.”

He leans down and puts his lips right beside my ear, and when his hand slips lower with the movement, a shiver runs through me. “I’d love to lose to you, sweetheart.”