Where Hearts Go To Hide

03 | Wells

I lean against the porch railing, the wood cool beneath my hands as I watch the beat-up sedan sputter into the driveway next door. I'd been keeping an eye out ever since the realtor mentioned the place had been bought. A young woman, she'd said. Fresh start, she'd said. The type of story you hear all too often in a town like Cedar Creek, where people come to hide or heal.

I take a sip of my coffee, the warmth of the mug grounding as I narrow my eyes at the car. It looks like it's barely holding together, which means she's either strapped for cash or desperate. Or both. I watch as the woman steps out, her movements slow, almost hesitant. She's wearing a turtleneck in this heat, which immediately strikes me as odd. There's a slight tremble in her hands as she fumbles with something in the car, and my gut tightens.

I've seen that kind of behaviour before—too many times to count, if I'm honest. The signs of someone who's been through hell and isn't sure if they've made it out yet. My gaze hardens as I take in the way she glances around, like she's expecting someone to jump out at her. I don't like it. Not one bit.

Before I can dwell on it any further, the front door creaks open, and Sawyer and Dawson step out onto the porch. I roll my eyes. Of course, they'd be the first to pounce. The twins have always had a knack for inserting themselves into any situation that piques their interest, especially when it involves a pretty girl.

"Who's the new neighbor?" Sawyer asks, not bothering to hide his curiosity as he leans against the railing next to me, even as I give him an unimpressed look. Dawson follows suit, his grin wide and full of mischief.

"No idea," I mutter, taking another sip of his coffee. "Just moved in."

"Should we go say hi?" Dawson's voice is full of intrigue. I can already see where this is headed, and it makes me want to knock their heads together.

"Give her some space," The words come out gruff, the warning tone being ignored by the two idiots I call brothers. "She looks like she's been travelling for days."

But Sawyer and Dawson share a look, one that I know all too well. It's the same look they've been giving each other since they were kids, right before they'd get into some kind of trouble.

"Relax, Wells," Sawyer says with that easy grin of his. "We're just being neighborly."

"Yeah, don't be such a grump," Dawson adds, already halfway down the steps. "We'll just say hello."

I watch them go, jaw tightening. I know my brothers mean well, but they've always had a way of getting involved in things they shouldn't. And from the look of the woman next door, the last thing she needs is two overgrown puppies bouncing around her.

I track their movements as they cross the yard, eyes narrowing as the woman finally looks up and spots them. Her body stiffens, and Wells can practically feel the tension radiating off her from where he stands. She's scared. Whether it's of them or something else, he can't tell. But it sets off alarm bells in his head.

Sawyer and Dawson voices carry across the yard as they introduce themselves. The woman—Benny, I think I hears her say—gives them a tight smile, polite but guarded. She's fiddling with the collar of her sweater, her eyes flicking between the twins like she's not sure which one will strike first.

The look has my fingers tightening on the mug before I make the conscious effort to relax.

Maybe it's the way she's dressed—a turtleneck in this heat, for God's sake—or the way she keeps glancing over her shoulder like she expects someone to be there. Or maybe it's just the fact that I've learned to trust my instincts, and right now, they're screaming at me to keep my distance.

Of course, that's not going to stop Dawson and Sawyer. I watch as Dawson holds out his hand, his easy grin in place, and Sawyer follows suit with his own grin. They've always been the charmers, those two. It's a skill they've honed over the years, and they're good at it. Too good, sometimes if the rumours are to be believed.

I roll my eyes, already predicting how this is going to go. They'll introduce themselves, flash those megawatt smiles, and usually, I would say the girl would fall at their feet and the Brooks twins would have another girl in love with them but looking at our new neighbour I know the truth. Benny will be too polite to tell them to leave her alone. Not that they mean any harm—they just don't know when to back off. It's harmless, usually, but this time, something about it rubs me the wrong way.

I can't hear what they're saying from here, but I can see the way Benny stiffens when they approach, her shoulders tensing up. She's polite, sure—gives them a small smile, nods along with whatever they're saying—but there's a wariness in her eyes, a caution that's hard to miss if you're paying attention. And I am.

As Dawson says something that makes her laugh slightly I tense. Enough. They've bothered her enough for one day. I don't want her getting the wrong idea about us, especially not when she's just moved in.

I open my mouth to call them back when they finally step away and leave her alone and make their way back to the house, ignoring my disapproving look.

Dawson is the first to speak, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Wells, you gonna say hello?"

I shake my head, turning on the spot to go back inside and get ready for work."I think you two have got it covered," I call back, not bothering to hide the exasperation in my tone.

Dawson chuckles, that mischievous grin still in place. "Don't be such a grouch, man. Go meet the new neighbor."

I wave them off and stomp inside. The last thing Benny needs is for all of us to descend on her like a welcoming committee from hell. I'm sure she's had enough of an introduction with just the twins.

Yet, when I step into the kitchen to the smell of browned butter choc chip cookies and a flour dusted daughter, I know she's going to make her own introduction.

I give her a silent look and she rolls her eyes, "what?"

"Who's the cookies for?" She is silent for a moment before her back straightens and she looks at me like she's not willing to hear my opinion on what she's about to say.

"For the neighbour." She glances away and starts putting them on a plate.

"Not the good plate, use one of the crappy ones."

She huffs but does as asked before I move for my bedroom.