Into the Fading Twilight (Starlight Grove, #2) (30)

A shiver of anticipation slid through me. I told myself it was nerves about my fresh start. But I couldn’t help wondering if it was more about Kol.

The door opened behind me, but I didn’t glance back. I hated that I hoped it wasn’t Brae. I just wasn’t ready to be cornered again. I wasn’t ready for the analysis of how I was doing.

“Beautiful.” The deep voice belonged to Dex, and relief flooded my system.

“It really is. You guys have a good spot.”

Dex made a humming sound. “I’ll miss it when our house is done.”

He and Brae were building a new home on Twisted Oak Ranch property, but it would be several months before it was done.

“I don’t know, your spot on the ranch is pretty epic.”

“It is,” Dex agreed. “But this is where I fell in love with Brae.”

My heart squeezed as I finally looked up at the love of my best friend’s life. He was still a little rumpled from sleep, and his tortoiseshell glasses were slightly askew, but I could see the love shining in his dark-hazel eyes. He was gone for my best friend. And God, she deserved that. More than anyone I knew.

I grinned up at him. “Who knew you were a romantic at heart?”

Dex chuckled. “Don’t tell anyone. I like to keep it under wraps.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thank you.” He studied me for a moment. “Kol asked me to look into the reporter.”

I stiffened slightly, waiting for Dex to suggest I shouldn’t be working because of this sort of thing. But he didn’t.

“He never asks me to do that,” Dex went on. “Never.”

A buzz lit beneath my skin. “The reporter was pressing Kol, too. Wanted to interview him. He probably just wants to make sure Reese will steer clear of him and Skylar.”

It made sense. Kol was incredibly protective of his little girl. And I understood why. Not only was she a special soul, but he was raising her completely on his own. Which was a different sort of pressure. Every decision rested squarely on his shoulders. I knew that Sky’s mom wasn’t in the picture. I just couldn’t imagine why someone would ever give up those two.

Dex stared at me for a long moment. “I don’t think that’s why he asked.”

My breath hitched, and I swallowed slowly. “I—”

Owen stumbled out the back door, still so tired, he looked a little drunk. He gazed up at Dex, his glasses also askew. “Pancakes?” he asked hopefully.

“Is it the weekend?” Dex shot back.

“Yes?” It came out as more of a question. Like Owen wasn’t sure what day it was.

“It’s the weekend, Bubs,” I said with a laugh.

“Yes!” Owen shot his fist in the air and turned to me. “Will you help us make the pancakes, Supernova?”

My heart squeezed again. God, I’d missed this kid. It killed that I’d never get back the year I missed. But I would take advantage of what we had now.

I pushed to my feet. “Only if I can put chocolate chips and blueberries in mine.”

Owen grinned. “You should add Oreos, too.”

“Genius!” I said and followed him into the kitchen.





Brae guided her SUV through the outskirts of Starlight Grove. It wasn’t an area I was familiar with, full of established neighborhoods with beautiful yards. I wondered if I could see myself in a house like that someday. It didn’t seem quite right. Too many people, too close.

The thought was amusing, since I’d lived in a bustling city for almost a decade. But something had changed in me. And that shift craved wide-open spaces.

“So Cora invited you?” Brae asked, making another turn that took us out of the neighborhood we were in.

I nodded. “We had … a moment.”

Brae’s gaze flicked to me and then back to the road. “A moment.”

“I needed to tell her it wasn’t her fault.”

Brae swallowed hard. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”

“Me neither.”

“And she’s not talking to anyone. Not really. I think Wylder can occasionally get her to open up a little, but we’re all … worried.”

I studied my best friend. God, she had a lot on her shoulders right now. “You know it’s not up to you to make sure everyone’s okay, right? We have to take charge of our own lives.”

Brae’s lips pressed together—not in a frown or in frustration, but as if she were holding in her words until she was completely sure what she wanted to say. “We all need help sometimes. I learned that this past year: that it’s okay to ask for help when we need it.”

She pulled into a parking spot at a beautiful park. I was quiet for a moment before I replied. “I’ll ask when I need it. I promise.”

Brae stared at me, and I saw the hurt flash across her expression. Because, in her mind, I needed help now and wasn’t asking. But she didn’t understand that I had to stumble to find my way.

She blew out a breath and opened her door. “Okay.”

Shit.

Just another moment to add to the tally of all the times I’d hurt Brae—the last person I ever wanted to harm. And that killed.

Adjusting my sunglasses, I shoved open my door and followed her toward a small pavilion of sorts with about a dozen or so people milling around. One of the picnic tables was full of food, snacks, and drinks. A couple of kids raced in circles as a woman with a smile and tanned skin, creased with age, looked on.