âHowâs the new employee working out?â Lucy asked.
We were sitting on the couch in Everlyâs office at the art gallery, visiting while Lucyâs son, Theo, played on the floor.
âSo far so good.â The woman Iâd hired was sweet and bubbly. She worked five days a week, allowing me some flexibility in my schedule. I loved The Refinery but it was nice to have a break. Mostly, it was nice to afford an employee.
Two weeks ago, the sale on the farmhouse had closed. That property was now someone elseâs joy. Someone elseâs burden.
âOkay, Iâd better go.â I swallowed a groan. Jacob was meeting me at the White Oak for dinner at five thirty and I was already a few minutes late.
âYou donât seem excited,â Lucy said from the couch in Everlyâs office where the three of us were sitting.
âJust not really in the mood for a date.â
âSo cancel,â Everly said, placing her hands on her pregnant belly. âHang out here with us. I havenât heard from Hux, so Iâm sure heâs zoned out in his studio painting.â
âDuke is covering for one of his deputies for the evening shift so heâs still at the station,â Lucy said. âWe havenât had a girlsâ night in ages.â
âI want to, but Iâm sure Jacobâs already waiting for me, and Iâd feel like an ass if I stood him up last minute.â
After leaving the gym at four, Iâd come down to meet them both and catch up with my friends. When theyâd both moved here, we used to hit Janeâs for a drink, but these days, we found ourselves either here at the gallery or at The Refinery.
It was easier with Theo to give him some space to explore. Heâd just started crawling a couple of weeks ago.
He came up to my feet and I bent down to help him up, holding his hands as he swayed on his chubby legs. A drooly smile squeezed my heart.
Maybe someday.
Or maybe the chance to be a mother had passed me by.
Lucy and Everly had become good friends. Unlike most of Calamityâs residents, they didnât even bat an eye at my business ideas. Maybe because they werenât from here. Theyâd moved here from Nashville and when I had an idea, they were completely supportive.
Lucy had been the first member of the gym, joining before Iâd even opened its doors. Everly bragged that she was my first follower on Instagram TikTok.
When the farmhouse had sold, theyâd shown up at my house with champagne.
They were good friends and I adored them. But these past four months had been hard, for many reasons, and I found myself pulling away.
Theo squirmed and dropped to his knees, crawling over to his mom at my side.
âWe should plan a movie date,â Lucy said, picking him up and kissing his cheek. âHow about tomorrow night? I think that new rom-com is at the theater this week.â
We only got one or two movies at our local theater each week, and even then, oftentimes theyâd already been released on a streaming platform. Thankfully, people around here usually went anyway for the popcorn, candy and atmosphere. The owners of the theater tried to plan fun events to keep the seats full. But one day, as the world changed, so would my town. Would the theater survive?
The past four months my head seemed to swim with grim thoughts. What was wrong with me? It was like a gray cloud had settled over my mind, tainting each thought with a depressing rain.
âI canât tomorrow,â I said. âItâs my grandmaâs birthday so weâre having a big family celebration at the community center.â
I did not want to go to a family event. But I didnât want to go to a movie either.
Except how did I tell my friends that their happy lives were hard to see? That while they were in love, I had never felt more inadequate and alone?
Everly was due in a couple of months with a baby girl. How did I tell my friend that just seeing her pregnant made the hole in my chest grow?
There was no way.
So Iâd been tending to my businesses. My house. Every project on my list was nearly complete and for the first time, when I came home, there werenât paint cans and tools waiting on the dining room table.
âThen next week,â Everly said. âEven if we just meet for lunch.â
âSounds good.â I smiled and the three of us stood, making our way through the gallery to the front door.
âHave fun on your date.â Lucy held up Theoâs hand in a wave.
âBye.â I waved back, walking past the colorful paintings on the wall to step outside and onto the sidewalk.
Down the block, country music escaped Janeâs front door. They had the live band playing tonight. Some Fridays, Lucy would join them and sing. The bar would be packed because how many towns could say they had a legitimate country music superstar as a local?
I turned the opposite direction and headed toward the White Oak, not far from my building. The scent of spring was on the breeze, but it hadnât warmed up yet and I was glad Iâd worn a coat because there was a nip in the air.
Walking had become a type of therapy, a chance to think and reflect. Iâd finally bought another car, another Explorer, but those months walking around town had made an impression. So I kept on walking, one step at a time, day after day.
âHi, Kerrigan.â
âHi, Dan.â I smiled at the owner of the hardware store as he passed me. He was always friendly, but every time I came in, heâd give me a look and say . . .
Yes, more projects. Lots and lots of projects. Because those projects were keeping me sane. And like my new employee, for the first time in months, I could afford them.
After Pierce had returned to Denver, Iâd met with my realtor, fully intending to take both the farmhouse and my home off the market. But as weâd talked, Iâd realized that I didnât want to own the farmhouse.
My two friends had nearly died there. It had been poisoned by a tragic event.
So Iâd kept the listing at the market value, but decided to post photos about its remodel anyway. Iâd gone through my archive and found the original pictures Iâd taken after buying the place. Then Iâd walked through each room, snapping new photos of the renovations Iâd already done.
Somehow, a woman from Utah had stumbled across my Instagram feed. Sheâd been searching for listings in Montana because she and her husband had been planning a move. When sheâd learned that the farmhouse was for sale, sheâd called my realtor and offered the asking price. Not only had I recouped my tangible investments, but my sweat equity as well.
If all I accomplished with my blog was selling that property, Iâd take it as a win.
At almost the same time, one of my renters had approached me about buying the home he and his wife had been renting from me. They loved the place and didnât want to move. So Iâd sold it too.
With that, Iâd paid off a mortgage. And the first thing Iâd done when the funds from the farmhouse had hit my bank account was issue a check to Grays Peak Investments, paying off my entire debt.
With Pierceâs payment plan, I wasnât required to pay him for years. But Iâd made the decision to move on.
Weâd said goodbye months ago, but it was time to actually let him go.
I found Jacobâs white truck parked outside of the café as I crossed the street. My date was there, waiting for me. I slowed, hoping to feel a little blip of excitement. A tiny thrill at the thought of meeting a nice man for dinner.
But . . . nothing.
My feet carried me forward regardless. A green and white license plate caught my eye, causing me to do a double take. Parked three spaces away from Jacobâs truck was a green Mercedes G-Class SUV with Colorado license plates.
As the daughter of a car salesman, I knew expensive cars. It was rare that Dad sold a vehicle with that price tag, especially a foreign model that would require specialty parts, but we had enough tourists in the area that heâd point out the fancy cars.
My feet slowed, my eyes glued to the Mercedes. It couldnât be him, right? Why would he come to Calamity? He wouldnât.
In four months, I hadnât heard a word from Pierce.
And I was a complete bitch for doing so, but Iâd severed ties with Nellie too. I just . . . I couldnât talk to her. As sweet and kind as Nellie had been, I couldnât bring myself to call her because I knew the limitations of my self-control. If I talked to Nellie, Iâd ask about Pierce. Sheâd tried me twice, around Christmas, but when I hadnât answered or called back, sheâd given up.
Just like her boss.
There was no way that was Pierceâs car. I shook myself out of that foolish dream, aimed my gaze and my feet to the White Oak and met my date.
âHey.â Jacob slid out of his chair, his arms wide open.
âHi.â I stepped into his embrace and prayed for the spark.
Again . . .
.
âSorry Iâm late,â I said, wiggling free.
âNo worries. Your brother was actually in here picking up a to-go order so I was talking to him.â
âDid he leave already?â I scanned the room. Many familiar faces, but not my brother.
âYeah, a few minutes ago. You just missed him.â
âDarn,â I lied.
Zachâs latest criticism was that the woman Iâd hired to work at the gym was a former girlfriend of his. How was I supposed to know who he dated? It wasnât like heâd ever brought her to a Sunday family dinner.
âHow was work today?â I asked, taking the chair across from his.
âGood. Busy. How was your day?â
âFine. Normal.â I met his blue eyes and wished they were a dark brown.
Jacob and I had been dating for a month. Maybe after one more, Iâd stop comparing him to Pierce.
But they couldnât be more different. Where Pierce had strong lines and sharp angles, Jacob was the exact opposite. His blond hair was cut short, making his face seem rounder than it already was. He was in shape, but he didnât have a cut, muscular frame like Pierce. Iâd never seen Jacob in anything but a polo shirt. His nose turned up slightly at the end and his lips were thin.
Jacob wasnât bad looking. He just wasnât Pierce.
The waitress came over and took our orders, then the community came to my rescue. The great part about dating Jacob was that we both knew everyone in town, so as people left or came into the restaurant, theyâd stop by our table and say hello.
It saved me from making small talk with my boyfriend.
Was he my boyfriend? I grimaced at the word.
âAre you okay?â Jacob asked as his cheeseburger and my chicken salad were delivered. âYou seem off.â
âIâm great,â I lied, picking up my fork. Then I dove into my meal, making sure that my mouth was full to avoid conversation.
I was off. Off was definitely the word. Sure, I smiled. Everyone expected me to smile.
It was ironic that the only smiles that felt real these days were the ones I posted on social media. Werenât those supposed to be the fake ones? The highlight reel?
When I was working on a project at home, my hair would be a mess and Iâd have paint on my fingers. But with a hammer or screwdriver in my hand, the smiles didnât seem so difficult.
âThen I called the guy and had to go through line by line on the invoice where theyâd overcharged us.â Jacob shook his head. âTook almost an hour. Youâd think a large tire supplier would have a better system for billing.â
âYeah,â I agreed, pretending that Iâd been listening.
If there was ever motivation to make sure my blog and influencer plan took off, it was Jacob talking about work at the dealership. If we worked together, this was what our life would be. Cars. Parts. Tires. Mechanics.
What was I doing here? Why was I dating him?
After so many years, Iâd finally given in to Momâs pressuring. Probably because Iâd been so hurt over Pierceâs disappearance. And when Iâd stopped by the dealership one afternoon last month to look at cars with Dad, Jacob had asked me out.
In a moment of weakness, Iâd agreed.
The first few dates hadnât been bad. He hadnât talked about the dealership as much. Mostly, weâd caught up on life since high school. But these last couple of dates had been . . . irritating.
Jacob was nice. He was smart and occasionally funny. So what was it about him that bugged me so much?
âHow was the little gym today?â he asked, popping a fry into his mouth.
âGood.â I studied him as he chewed. He had a normal chew. No strange sounds or weird chomps. I didnât have the overwhelming urge to devour his lips like Iâd had with Pierce, but nothing with Jacob was like it had been with Pierce.
âAnd the little blog? Any new followers?â
A zing of annoyance skated up my spine. There. That was it.
How had I not noticed this before? I quickly replayed each of our dates, thinking back to the conversations weâd had about my rentals, the gym and my blog.
It had taken me months to get my website set up, and Iâd shelled out a few thousand dollars to have a professional design it exactly the way I wanted because the standard cookie-cutter templates were not the aesthetic I was going for. That website was the reason Iâd gone without a car for a couple of months in the new year.
But the end result had been worth the investment. Working on posts and photos was the highlight of my day.
My happiness wasnât Yes, I only had 362 Instagram followers, most of whom were residents of Calamity or friends from college. Yes, my newsletter only had 102 subscribers. Yes, the only income Iâd earned was thirty-six dollars and change from my Amazon affiliate sales.
Yes, it was little.
But the way he said that word diminished everything Iâd been striving for. Like this was a hobby, not the start of what might become a career.
Well, this relationship was over.
I finished my salad and drained the rest of my Diet Coke, then signaled for the waitress that we were ready for the check. âIâll buy dinner.â
âNo, I canât let you.â
âI insist.â I pulled out my wallet. âYouâve bought all of the others. Itâs only fair.â
âBut I have a job.â
My body froze. Yep, we were done. So, so done. âI also have a job. I just happen to work for myself.â
He didnât miss the sharpness in my tone and his eyes widened. âThatâs not what I meant.â
âItâs fine.â I waved it off and plastered on a fake smile. âAnd Iâm buying dinner.â
âOkay.â He wiped his mouth with a napkin and watched me hand over my credit card to the waitress.
When she brought it back over, I signed the receipt with an angry scribble, then shot out of my chair and yanked on my coat.
Jacob kept pace, hurrying with his own jacket.
I didnât wait for him when I turned and marched for the door. The moment I hit the sidewalk, I aimed my feet toward the gym.
âI was thinking.â Jacob caught up, walking at my side. âWant to come over to my place tonight? We could have a drink. Watch a movie or . . . something.â
Or something? No, thanks.
I came to a stop, whirling to face him so that I could break this off now. But from the corner of my eye, I caught a tall figure on the other side of the street. Whatever words Iâd had for Jacob died on my tongue.
My breath hitched.
Pierce.
He stood in front of the real estate office, his hands in his jeans pockets, staring my way.
âKerriganââ
âOne second.â I held up a hand, already walking away. I checked both ways, then jogged across First. My heart galloped faster and faster with every step.
Pierce stood there, watching with an unreadable expression on his face.
I slowed as I approached the curb, then stopped in front of him. His towering frame pivoted so he could stare down at me as I struggled to fill my lungs.
Why was he here? Why now?
He looked as devastating as always. His camel coat showcased his broad shoulders and his jeans molded to his strong thighs. His dark eyes looked as exhausted as I felt. But otherwise, his face was granite.
Pierceâs jaw clenched and he tore his eyes away just as a hand came to the small of my back.
I jerked, surprised that I hadnât heard Jacob approach.
His hand moved up my spine and his arm came around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. Claiming me.
In our month together, Iâd kissed him twice. Each time had been awkward and unfulfilling. This touch was nothing more than his way of puffing up his chest.
âEverything okay, baby?â
Baby? Where the hell had that come from? No. Just . . . no.
I shifted away, shaking loose of his arm, and gave him a smile. Jacob had pissed me off tonight, but I wasnât going to dump him in front of Pierce simply to be cruel. âThis is Pierce Sullivan. My investor.â
Pierceâs body tensed at that designation as he held out a hand. âAnd you are?â
âJacob Hanson. Kerriganâs boyfriend.â
The men shook and when Jacob reached for me, trying to take my hand, I moved and tucked it into my coat pocket.
âI didnât realize you were in town,â I told Pierce. Was that his Mercedes Iâd seen earlier? It had to have been.
Something flashed in his eyes. Sadness. But it was gone in an instant, his expression once again unreadable. âI should have called.â
Months ago. He should have called months ago.
Iâd told Pierce I understood. Iâd done my best not to be angry at him. Heâd been clear about not wanting a relationship. But . . .
Weâd had something, hadnât we? I hadnât imagined our connection. And it wasnât the sex.
Now he was standing here and damn it, I wanted an explanation.
Jacob inched my way. âWe were just heading homeââ
âJacob, Iâll call you later.â
His eyes widened. âOh, okay.â
I smiled at him, holding it through the awkward silence as he stared between Pierce and me. Finally, he clued in and retreated to his truck on the other side of the street.
Pierce and I both watched him until heâd turned off First.
Then, when we were alone, I faced Pierce. âYouâre in Calamity.â
âI am.â He nodded, dragging his eyes up and down my body. They narrowed and I knew what he saw.
In the past four months, Iâd lost weight. Weight I hadnât had to lose.
I was dressed in the leggings and long-sleeved top Iâd worn at the gym today while training the new employee. My coat was baggier than it had ever been. But sleepless nights and heartache had ruined my appetite.
âI got your check.â Most people wouldnât sound so disappointed about getting paid.
The check had cleared, but I wasnât sure if heâd known about it. When heâd left me behind, Iâd assumed heâd handed my contract off to someone else. Though other than his lawyer, I hadnât heard from anyone at Grays Peak. âI sold a couple of properties. The farmhouse and a rental.â
âYou didnât need to do that.â
âYes, I did.â
Iâd needed to unburden myself. Life was easier now. For so long, Iâd dreamed about having my own empire here in Calamity. I wasnât giving that up. Not yet. But it was time to slow down, to be methodical in my purchases and make sure I could weather any storm.
We locked eyes and my heart climbed into my throat. In a way, it was like no time at all had passed. He could kiss me right now and Iâd melt into his arms. One touch and the past four months would evaporate.
I rooted my feet to the sidewalk, not trusting myself to move.
âYou came back.â
âI did.â
âWhy?â
He blew out a long breath. âFor you.â