Page 70 of Backward Motion

Georgia was silent on the other end of the line. When she spoke, it was in a voice that wasn’t her own. “Mom and Dad were so scared when they found you in Austin. They told me they thought you might...” She stopped, and Sam could hear her breathing through the phone.

“But I didn’t,” Sam said. “I wouldn’t.”

He felt a twinge of remorse. He’d always thought the two of them were so different, but she cared more than he’d given her credit for. He’d allowed the cattiness and the petty disagreements to drive a wedge through their relationship for years.

“And Oakdale has just magically transformed overnight?”

“No, but it is different. It’s not like back then—at least, it doesn’t feel that way. I think maybe I’m the one who’s changed.” He didn’t feel alone anymore.

Georgia clicked her teeth, her frustration audible through the phone. “Fine. You didn’t want the job, whatever. If you’d rather swan around, sending invoices for a living, who am I to stop you?”

Sam laughed. “I’m not entirely sure what I want to be doing. Life always felt like a race. I’m going to try staying still for a bit, enjoy where I am and what I have, and see how that feels.”

“Just don’t come crying to me when you want to get back in the game and your résumé’s filled with holes.”

Sam snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, sure, Georgia. Thanks again for your help.”

“Don’t get mushy on me, Samuel,” she said and hung up.

Sam glanced at the items in his basket and decided to swing by the beer-and-wine section to hunt out a bottle of champagne. He was going to need something to wash down the rum raisin.

Connor had been rushing around all day and was only one job away from being able to head home to find out what Sam had planned for him back at the apartment. Turned out the man wasn’t the smoothest when it came to surprises. Connor had received a string of not-so-subtle messages from Sam throughout the afternoon with questions like,Do you like pistachios?andDoes coconut oil make you break out?So naturally, Connor was expecting to be slathered in oil and dipped in crushed nuts like a caramel apple. And he couldn’t have been more down for it.

Connor wanted to get a handle on work before he and Sam headed to Austin the following weekend. He’d been secretly relieved when Sam had agreed to let him come. From what he’d heard about Felix, the guy wasn’t exactly Prince Charming, and Connor didn’t like the idea of Sam going back to face him alone.

Connor pulled up outside a small, run-down house with an overgrown hackberry stooped out front and checked the address on his run sheet. Then he grabbed his tool bag from the back of the van and walked over cracked pavers to the front door, where he rapped loudly with the knocker.

“Finnis,” Blake Plimmerton said when the door swung open.

Connor frowned and looked down at the job brief in his hand. “I’m here for a Sarah Baxter.”

“Yeah, that’s my ma. Come on.”

Connor made a point to keep his boots on when he stepped inside. “So, what’s the issue?” he asked as Blake led him through the house. It was dimly lit and crammed with boxes of junk pushed up against the walls. Connor’s nose wrinkled at the reek of unchanged cat litter.

“Rats chewed through the washer cord in the basement,” Blake said, opening the door that led beneath the house. “Need to replace the plug.”

They walked down the narrow stairs to the basement, and Connor pulled the washer away from the wall and crouched to inspect the damaged cord. “Looks like they’re halfway through the dryer cord as well. I can replace both, but it’s only going to happen again if you don’t get an exterminator.”

Blake shrugged. “Whatever. Just fix it, and I’ll figure out the rest.”

“Sure you will,” Connor muttered.

“Not what I’d call five-star service,” Blake sneered.

“Then find another electrician.” Connor got to his feet and dropped his tool bag on top of the closed washer lid. He pulled out his pliers to strip back the old cord.

“What’s your beef, man? I don’t have a problem with you.”

Connor surged with a sudden rush of anger. “No?” He tossed the pliers back into the bag and stepped forward, getting up in theman’s face like Plimmerton had done to the kids at school. “Well, I have a problem with you.” Connor was taller by a head, but Blake was bulky, his gut filling the space between them. “I never said anything at school because I was a fucking coward. But you had no right to treat Sam the way you did.”

“Bryant?”

“Yeah. And then humiliating him like that, in front of everyone? You had to make the rest of his time there a living hell.”

Blake snickered. “From the way you talk, I’d say you were a little soft on him, Finnis.”

It was the kind of thing guys said to each other to elicit a reaction.Let’s see what he does with this one.