Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(65)

I took the Coke off the bar. “Bigfoot and hot sauce. I’ll make sure I’m ready.”

“Good luck and godspeed,” Wylder called after me.

“Stop trying to scare me off,” I tossed over my shoulder. “You and Dex both.”

Only laughter followed me.

I dropped the Coke off with Jack and took his order before heading to the hostess and a group of familiar faces—two I didn’t expect to see. I knew they both had jobs that probably didn’t provide long lunch periods.

“Hey,” I greeted the duo Cora was chatting with. Holly wore her hair pulled back in a loose braid and had paired it with a business-casual outfit appropriate for the local bank she worked at. And Aster wore a chic yet casual outfit with Western accents that spoke of life on a ranch.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked.

The three of them shared a look, but it was Aster who spoke. “We wanted to check on you. Make sure all’s okay.”

“And we wanted cheeseburgers,” Cora added with a twitch of her lips, attempting to inject a little levity into the moment.

Holly reached out a hand, resting it on my arm. “We’re here for you. Whatever you need.”

My eyes burned like they’d been dunked in acid for some sort of science experiment. “That’s really kind.” My voice took on a raspy edge I struggled to clear. “I’m good. No more calls. No nothing.”

Aster studied me for a moment, something about her seeming to see a little more than the rest of them did. “You’re wishing they’d call again.”

I shrugged. “I’d handle it differently now. Play it smarter.”

“Maybe they will,” Cora offered. “Trav said they’re looking into it.”

“Speaking of, your fiancé’s threatening to unalive anyone who looks twice at his french fries.”

Cora’s green eyes lit, and a hint of pink hit her cheeks. “Do not come between him and his food, trust me.”

Holly let out a soft chuckle. “Head over heels.”

“The kind of love we all deserve,” Aster said softly.

Holly scoffed. “Not sure that’s in the cards for most of us.”

I’d learned during the dinner at my house that Holly and her husband had divorced after they lost their son. That kind of thing either had you leaning on each other or tearing each other apart. For Holly and John, it had been the latter.

Aster reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “Never give up the dream.”

Holly’s lips simply pressed into a hard line.

And that was my cue. “Booth or table?”

Aster grinned, knowing exactly what I was doing. “Booth all the way.”

I led them to the open spot next to Travis and Roger so they could all chat. Taking their orders, I lost myself in the rhythm of the lunch rush. Running orders, cleaning tables, ringing folks up. Before I knew it, four in the afternoon hit, and it was time for me to clock out.

Wylder glanced up from mixing a cocktail as I grabbed my Bigfoot tote bag from the cabinet that housed our personal items.

“You out?” he asked.

“Yup. Gotta get Owen.”

“Give me a sec, and I’ll walk you out.”

“I’m good,” I assured him, pulling a tiny, silver cylinder out of my pocket. “Have pepper spray, will travel.”

Wylder grinned. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will.”

With a wave to Aidan and Cora and a shouted farewell to Fiona in the kitchen, I headed out into the back parking lot—if it could even be called that. It was only eight spaces, shared between the Boot and the art gallery next door. But it was nice not to have to fight the tourist crush for street parking.

Beeping my locks, I slid in and started the engine, then maneuvered my way out of the small lot and toward the street. Flipping on my blinker, I turned in the direction of the rec center. But as I did, my heart stopped.

It was just a flash. Reddish-brown hair. Green eyes so like my son’s flashing as he glanced over his shoulder.

Vincent.

I blinked a few times, trying to clear my vision. And in those precious moments, the man turned the corner.

Panic lit through me as I glanced around. A truck pulled out of a parking spot ahead, and I rushed toward it. I barely had the key out of the ignition before I was running, trying to find the man. As I rounded the corner, all I saw were tourists milling about and peeking in shops.

I hurried through them, searching, trying to see if the man had been real or just a figment of my imagination. I checked the three tourist shops and one of the many art galleries. Nothing.

Maybe I’d imagined it. Stress. The comments on my posted photo. The call from Nova’s phone. The past was being dredged up left and right. It made sense that my mind would conjure the other main source of tension in my life.

A man with the same build and auburn hair as Vincent stepped out of a gallery. It was very much not Vincent. All the air left my lungs on a whoosh. Just my imagination.

Even if he was still watching my life from afar.





26





DEX





I moved through the tree house’s kitchen, filing away catalogues of clock parts, books on Bigfoot, and notices and bills I hoped like hell Waylon had paid. He needed a keeper. Not just an assistant but someone who followed the man around and reminded him that he’d started eighty-seven projects that still needed finishing.