“Oh, shit. Shit … Falyn,” Kirby hissed.
“I see him … and her,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the petite blonde nearly hidden behind the portly doctor.
Phaedra immediately went to the front door and jammed the key in the lock, twisting it. She pulled but didn’t welcome the people standing on the sidewalk. “Hello there, Dr. Fairchild. We weren’t expecting you.”
He thanked her, taking off his cowboy hat, before attempting to walk inside. “Just needed to speak to Falyn.”
Phaedra put her hand on the doorjamb, barring him from taking another step. “Sorry, William. Like I said, we weren’t expecting you.”
William blinked once and then glanced back at his wife.
“Falyn,” she said, peering over her husband’s broad shoulder.
She was wearing an expensive gray sheath dress with matching shoes. By her attire and his suit and tie, I guessed they had come downtown to meet someone for dinner.
She sidestepped, so she could face me head-on. “Do you have time to talk?”
“No.” I blew a large bubble and let it snap back.
The double doors swung open, and Chuck arrived from the kitchen, his hands and forearms still wet and covered in suds. “Dr. Fairchild,” he said. “Blaire.”
Blaire wasn’t pleased. “Also Dr. Fairchild,” she said, attempting to sound casual but failing.
“No disrespect,” Chuck began, “but you can’t come here, unannounced. I think you know that. Now, why don’t you call the next time? It would cause less stress for everyone.”
Blaire’s eyes targeted Chuck. She was already planning on making him regret standing up to her.
“There’s a young man outside. Is he here to see you?” William asked.
I dropped the mop and rushed past Phaedra and my parents to see Taylor standing with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, leaning against the corner of the building, just beyond the glass wall.
“What are you still doing here?” I asked.
Taylor stood up straight and opened his mouth to speak.
William pointed to him. “Is he one of those damn provisional Land Management trash?”
The redness in William’s cheeks and the sudden gloss in his eyes filled me with a satisfaction only true spite could produce.
Taylor took a few steps in our direction, completely undeterred by William’s anger. “This must be your dad.”
I chomped the wad of gum in my mouth, annoyed with the unexpected introduction.
Blaire looked away in disgust. “Really, Falyn, you look like a cow chewing its cud.”
Blowing a large bubble and letting it snap back into my mouth was the only response I could muster.
Taylor held out his hand with confidence. “Taylor Maddox, sir. US Forest Service trash.”
The hotshot lifted his chin, likely thinking this would impress the pompous ass standing in front of him.
Instead, William shifted his weight, incensed. “A vagrant. Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower. Christ, Falyn.”
Taylor pulled his hand back, again shoving it into his jeans pocket. His jaw tightened as he was clearly trying to resist the urge to retort.
“Bill,” Blaire warned, checking to see who was within earshot. “Not the time or the place.”
“I prefer the term seasonal,” Taylor said. “I’m with the Alpine Hotshot Crew, stationed just up at Estes Park.”
His bulky shoulders rose as he pushed his fists further into his pockets. I got the feeling it was to keep from connecting one of them with William’s jaw.
Taylor’s movement caused my father to notice his arms. “Hotshot crew, eh? And part-time doodle pad by the looks of it.”
Taylor chuckled, glancing down at his right arm. “My brother’s a tattoo artist.”
“You’re not really dating this deadbeat, are you?” As usual, my father’s question was more of a demand for an answer.
Taylor looked at me, and I grinned.
“No,” I said. “We’re in love.” I strolled over to Taylor, who looked as surprised as my father, and I planted a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I get off at eight tomorrow night. See you then.”
Taylor smiled and reached around my middle, pulling me to his side. “Anything for you, baby.”
William sneered, but Blaire gently touched his chest, signaling for him to stay quiet.
“Falyn, we need to talk,” she said, her eyes making note of every tattoo on Taylor and every frayed edge of every hole in his jeans.
“We’ve talked,” I said, feeling confident while being hugged to Taylor’s side. “If I have anything else to say, I’ll call you.”
“You haven’t spoken to us in months. It’s time,” she said.
“Why?” I asked. “Nothing has changed.”
Blaire’s eyes fell from my face to look down my body and then came back again. “Quite a lot has changed. You look atrocious.”
Taylor held me away from him, gave me a once-over, and then made a show of his disagreement.
Blaire sighed. “We’ve given you space and time to figure this out on your own, but enough is enough. You need to come home.”
“So, his upcoming campaign has nothing to do with it?” I nodded toward my father, who puffed out his chest, indignant.
His audacity to even pretend to be insulted made it almost impossible for me to keep my cool.
My face contorted. “I want you both to leave. Now.”
William angled his body and stepped forward in an offensive move. Taylor steadied himself, ready to defend me if necessary. Chuck had stood up to my parents before, but standing next to Taylor was different. He barely knew me, yet there he was, in a protective stance in front of me, glowering at my father, daring him to take another step. I hadn’t felt that safe in a long time.
“Good night, docs,” Phaedra said in her shaky Southern twang.
Taylor took my hand and led me past my parents into the dining area of the café.
Phaedra shut the door in my father’s face and cranked the key in the lock as Blaire watched. As Phaedra turned her back to them, my parents continued on to their original destination.
Chuck crossed his arms, staring at Taylor.
Taylor looked down at me even though I could claim all of five feet nine inches. “You did that just to piss off your parents, didn’t you?”