Crimson River (The Edens)

Crystal walked into the kitchen with her mouth flapping open. “You painted snowflakes on the windows.”

“Well, yeah. I do every year.”

“But usually after Halloween. When you didn’t do them by Thanksgiving, I figured you wouldn’t do them at all.”

I shrugged. “Just took me a little longer to get in the holiday spirit.”

It was a lie. The only spirit currently occupying my body was misery.

But if I’d perfected anything in the past six weeks, it was faking happy. Faking normal.

Every year, I hand-painted snowflakes on the windows of Eden Coffee so that when tourists and locals came in for a cappuccino or pastry, they’d be greeted with charming, winter décor. So last night, after closing down the shop, I’d spent five hours adorning the glass with snowflakes of various shapes and sizes.

It had been well after midnight when I’d made it home and crashed. Then I’d roused at four, returning to the shop to spend another day faking it.

“You’re not wearing lipstick today,” I said, taking in the soft pink of her mouth.

She shrugged. “I couldn’t pick a color.”

“Well, lipstick or not, you look pretty.” I smiled. It was Sunday and her day off. Why had she come into the shop? “What are you up to today?”

“I came downtown to shop for Christmas presents. But it’s busy, so I wanted to pop in and make sure you didn’t need help.”

“Thanks for checking, but I’ll be okay.”

I picked up the tray of muffins I’d pulled from the oven earlier and had set out to cool. With Crystal trailing behind me, I carried them to the counter, scanning the room to make sure no one new had wandered in while I’d been in the back.

Nearly every table was full. Every table but the one against the window.

Vance’s table.

And the reason it wasn’t full was because I’d taken away his chair. Both chairs, actually. Did it look ridiculous to have an empty table in the corner? Yes. But I couldn’t bear to see another person in that spot. Not yet.

The minute I appeared with fresh muffins, three people came to the counter, each buying one to take to their seats. A man I’d never seen before asked for a refill on his coffee.

This time of year, there’d be a plethora of unfamiliar faces in Quincy. The weekends from now until New Year’s would be slammed at the shop. Tourists would flock to our little town to shop or enjoy a winter getaway in the charming atmosphere.

The streetlamps along Main were all strung with white twinkle lights. Mine wasn’t the only shop window decorated for the season. And Eloise told me yesterday that the last open room at the hotel had just been booked. There were no vacancies until January.

“So I had this idea.” Crystal propped her hip against the counter once the customers had all been served. “Let’s join a dating app.”

That was her idea? Hard pass. “Been there, done that. I don’t think I’m the dating-app type.”

Months ago, she might have convinced me to try again. But now?

Everything was different.

In the past six weeks, I hadn’t heard from Vance. Not a word. Not that I’d expected a call or text. Not when I’d been the one to insist he make no promises.

But he hadn’t truly disappeared either.

I’d read the news articles about Vera. About him. And beyond that, he was here. He was in this shop, a ghost at the table with no chairs. A phantom roaming the halls of my house, reminding me every morning and night that I was alone.

I missed him with every beat of my lonely, lonely heart.

It had been six weeks. He wasn’t coming back, was he?

No. He wasn’t coming back.

“What if I set up the profile for you?” Crystal asked. “Then all you’d have to do was swipe through any matches.”

“Is there even a dating pool in Quincy?”

“Emily Nelsen was in yesterday, and she told me that she’s been seeing a guy in Missoula. They met on an app.”

“Crystal, I don’t—”

“Just think about it.” She held up a hand before I could protest. “That’s all I’m asking.”

I sighed. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

Did I want to join a dating app? Hell no. There. Thought about it.

“Thank you.” She smiled as the shop’s front door opened and the bell jingled.

Mateo strode inside, his head covered in a black baseball cap that seemed to accentuate the sharp corners of his stubbled jaw. Gone was my lanky younger brother. He’d grown into a strong, handsome man, the resemblance to Griff and Knox almost uncanny.

Crystal’s cheeks pinked, like she’d turned shy without a bold lip color. If Mateo showed even a hint of interest, this dating-app idea of hers would go sailing out my snowflake-adorned windows.

But his love life consisted of the occasional fling with a tourist he’d pick up at a bar. Not once in the time he’d been back from Alaska had he taken a woman out on a date. He was as allergic to relationships as he was shellfish.

“Hey,” he said, placing his hands on the counter.

“Hi.” I stood on my toes as he bent to kiss my cheek.

“Crystal.” He dipped his chin, and her face turned from pink to bright red.

“Hey, Mateo.” She looked everywhere but at his face, her hands fidgeting. Then she pushed off the counter and did a curtsey with a finger wave. “I’ll see you later, Lyla.”

“Bye.”

She scurried around the counter, then rushed for the door.

“Did she just curtsey?” Mateo asked.

I giggled. “I think she’s got a little crush on you.”

“I thought she was into women.”

“People.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “If she has a crush on me, is it going to get awkward?”

“I doubt it. It’s a teensy, tiny crush. Mostly, I think she just finds you pretty to look at.”

“Obviously.” He smirked.

I flicked the tip of his nose like I used to do when we were kids. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Came to town to pick up a few things Griff needs on the ranch. Thought I’d swing by and see if you needed anything.”

Mateo was still focused on helping everyone out. Griffin on the ranch. Eloise at the hotel. Talia and Foster had just built a house on the ranch, and since she was due any day now, Mateo had spent weeks helping them pack and move.

He was a good uncle, always visiting his nieces and nephews. Just last night he’d babysat the boys so Knox and Memphis could go on a date. And whenever I needed help, Matty was only a phone call away.

“I’m good. Are you?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something?” I jerked my chin for him to come around the counter.

Mateo took the spot where Crystal had been leaning. “Shoot.”

“Why’d you leave Alaska?”

I’d wanted to ask him that question for weeks, but there’d never seemed a good time. We’d always been busy or working. But I’d realized last night as I painted snowflakes days late, I could lose my chance entirely.

If the past six weeks had taught me anything, it was that everything could change in a blink.

“I missed home,” he said.

While I didn’t doubt that answer was true, it felt . . . superficial. “Mateo.”

“Lyla.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“That’s my line.”

I gave him a soft smile. “So it is.”

Mateo had made that declaration countless times. So had every other member of my family.

As much as I tried to pretend I was happy, everyone knew that when Vance had left Quincy, he’d taken a piece of me with him.

“I was sleeping with this woman.” Mateo’s statement surprised me. Maybe he was sick of pretending too. “It was supposed to be casual.”

“She caught feelings.”

“I caught feelings.”

“Oh.”

He shrugged. “That’s not what she wanted, so we broke it off. Kind of fucked with me though. I loved flying every day. I loved Alaska and made some decent friends. But . . .”

“It wasn’t home.”

“It wasn’t Montana.”

“For the record, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“One more question.” I held up a finger, earning me a teasing eye roll. “If you love flying every day, why’d you stop?”

His blue gaze, the same color as mine, shifted over my shoulder to a blank spot on the wall. “I guess . . . I went to Alaska, hoping I’d find what I needed. Didn’t quite work out that way.”

So he’d come home, and instead of exploring his own passions, chasing his own dreams, he’d helped his siblings with theirs because it was easier. Familiar.

It required that he make no decisions about his own future. Take no risks. It was a temporary solution, but sooner rather than later, I hoped Mateo would find his own direction. His own purpose.

“Okay, enough with the heavy.” I waved off that subject, sensing he was ready for a change too. “Want something to eat? I just made muffins.”

“Sure.”

We spent the next hour talking about nothing while I attended to my customers. After he left for the ranch, I made a fresh pot of coffee, helping myself to a steaming mug to fight the yawning that wouldn’t stop.

Without Vance in my bed, sleep seemed elusive. Still, I kept my smile firmly fixed in place as the hours passed on another day.

The sun set so early this time of year that it was dark even before the dinner rush. While the days were hectic and busy, people tended to retreat to the warmth and safety of their homes once night fell.

Leaving me alone in a coffee shop for one more hour until I could go home.

And be alone there too.

The shop was empty, the tables clean, so I went to the kitchen and made myself a peanut butter, banana and honey sandwich. While I ate, I pulled out my phone from my pocket.

I’d missed six texts. Three from Eloise. One from Talia. The last from Mom.

Nothing from Vance.

A month ago, I’d gone through a period where I’d been so angry at him. I’d been furious that he could just go back to his life. That he could forget about me so easily. But that anger had been short-lived.

I’d never been the type who could stay mad at someone I loved.

And, oh, how I loved Vance Sutter.

Even if we lived our lives apart. Even if I never saw his face again. I would love Vance for the rest of my life.

The door’s bell jingled, so I shoved the last bite of sandwich in my mouth. Then I gulped a drink of water before wiping my lips dry and hurrying to the counter.

Three steps down the hallway, I froze.

A man stood just inside the doorway, his back turned toward me. His gaze was aimed at the table against the windows.

My hand pressed against my heart.

I’d know those broad shoulders and that dark, disheveled hair anywhere.

I closed my eyes, sure he’d be gone when they opened.

He wasn’t.

Vance stood motionless, staring at the place where his chair had been.

I risked another step but stopped again. If I got too close, would he disappear in a puff of smoke?

He turned, took a step of his own, then twisted to look at the table again. His jaw ticked. When he faced forward, it was with a scowl. His gaze swept across the empty counter. Then it darted down the hallway, and when he spotted me, he stopped. His expression blanked.

My heart climbed into my throat as I unglued my feet and walked out, stopping when I was three feet away.

God, he looked good. Like a dream. Was I dreaming?

Vance’s gray-blue eyes traced a line up and down my body, head to toe.

I was in a pair of jeans and a charcoal Henley. His Henley. It had gotten mixed in with my laundry, and when he’d packed, he’d left it behind. Even though I had to roll up the sleeves and tuck it in so it didn’t look like a dress, I wore it at least twice a week.

“Hi.” His voice was raspy, like his throat had gone dry.

“Hi.”

Vance’s frown deepened and he planted his hands on his hips. “Where the hell is my chair, Blue?”

Tears flooded. My knees wobbled. A laugh escaped, or maybe it was a sob.

Whatever the noise, it relaxed his frame. Then he surged, closing the gap between us, and hauled me into his arms.

I buried my face in his chest and inhaled. Soap and spice and earth and wind. Heaven. “Is this real? Are you here?”

“I’m here.” He breathed in my hair. “Fuck, but I missed you.”

“You did?”

“Every damn day.”

I squeezed my eyes closed, balling his coat in my fists to keep him from moving. “I put your chair away. I couldn’t look at it empty every day. I can’t look at it empty every day.”

If he was just going to leave again, he needed to go. Now. While I could still stand on my own.

He eased me back to frame my face in his large hands, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. “It won’t be empty. Never again. That’s a promise, Lyla.”

A promise he’d keep. “I like promises.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. Then he slammed his mouth on mine. His tongue stroked my bottom lip, tender and slow, coaxing my mouth open. When he slid inside, it was slow. Torturous. He explored my mouth like this was the first kiss.

In a way, maybe it was.

I melted against him, the ache in my chest abating with every soft kiss until he broke away, his gaze colliding with mine.

“I love you, Lyla.” Those gray-blue eyes were as bright as stars. It was a color I’d seen in them before. I just hadn’t named it yet. Love.

“I love you too.”

“I love you so fucking much.” His hold on me tightened. “I couldn’t breathe when we were apart.”

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“Not a chance.” A growl escaped his throat as his mouth crushed mine once more, kissing me until I was breathless. Then we clung to each other, his arms banded around my back. His face buried in my hair.

I snaked my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his shoulder as I molded around his hard, broad frame.

We stood locked together until something vibrated between us. Vance’s pocket. He shifted, letting me go just enough to dig out his phone.

“It’s Vera,” he said.

“Where is she?”

“At the hotel. She just texted to say she’s tired from the drive and will just see us in the morning.”

The last reservation at The Eloise. That was him.

I closed my eyes, leaning against his heart, listening to its beat and feeling the heat from his body radiate into mine.

Was he really done with Idaho? What about his job? What had happened with the investigation into the shooting?

There’d be time for questions. There’d be time to talk about the future. But not yet. Tonight, I just wanted to take him home.

“I’m the only one here tonight and still need to close up.”

“I’ll wait until you’re done.” He took my face in his hands once more, his gaze full of love and something new.

Peace. He was at peace. And it was breathtaking.

“I’ll get your chair.”