N ine hours. That was all Vance and I had left. Nine hours.
It wasn’t enough.
Never had two days flown by so quickly. I kept hoping for time to slow down, but ever since we’d hiked down that mountain with a sobbing Vera, seconds, minutes, and hours had seemed to vanish.
Monday felt like just moments ago when Vance and I had woken up to the beeping alarm from the game camera. Now it was already Thursday. How had the week slipped by so fast?
They were leaving tomorrow—Friday. In just nine hours.
As I stood at the kitchen sink, scrubbing the dishes from dinner, I avoided looking out the window. I refused to acknowledge that the sun had set and Friday was nearly upon us. Yet, even from the corner of my eye, I saw the dark blue of twilight creeping into the yard and the first stars beginning to twinkle.
I really needed a curtain for that damn window.
Vance walked in, his bare feet making a heavy thud against the hardwood floor. He placed his phone on the counter, leaned against it, and crossed his arms. “Captain and I are meeting first thing Monday morning.”
“Good.” That was good, right? This was the plan. But my heart was in freefall, sinking deeper and faster. “Did you tell him about Vera?”
“No. I’ll save that for Monday. He thinks I want to talk about the shooting. Probably hoping I’ll quit.”
Would he quit?
If Vance’s job wasn’t keeping him in Idaho, would he come back? I was terrified to ask. Terrified to learn that I wasn’t enough for him to uproot his life. So I didn’t ask.
“How do you think she’s doing?” Vance asked, looking at the ceiling.
Upstairs was the guest bedroom. Vera had excused herself after dinner for a hot shower. She kept saying it was because she’d missed hot, running
water. Really, I think she went in there so we wouldn’t hear her cry.
For the past two mornings, I’d woken up wondering if I’d find the guest bedroom empty. If Vera would decide that becoming part of society was overrated and leave to track down Cormac. If anyone could find him again, it would be her.
Yet despite my fears, each day, she’d shuffled downstairs, half asleep, her eyes puffy and red from the tears she’d been crying into a pillow, and said good morning.
“She’s still here. That’s a good sign.” I dried my hands on a towel, then moved into his side, pressing my nose to his chest and drawing in that Vance smell.
They were leaving soon. But for tonight, they were both here.
My phone rang on the counter, so Vance stretched to grab it and hand it
over.
“Hey,” I answered.
“How are you feeling?” Mateo asked. “On the mend.”
The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but keeping Vera’s secret was
paramount. So I’d lied to my family and told them that I’d gotten sick after that hike with Sheriff Zalinski. My sudden illness was the reason why we hadn’t met at Griff’s the next morning. And it was the reason why I hadn’t been to work in days.
Guilt for burdening my parents and siblings with the coffee shop crawled beneath my skin. But I’d endured it, knowing it would be short- lived. Tomorrow morning, I’d say goodbye to Vance and Vera, then go back to work. Go back to my life.
Eden Coffee would once again be my sanctuary.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” I told Mateo. “How did it go today?” “Crystal tried to teach me how to use the espresso machine.” I grimaced. “Please tell me it’s not broken.”
“Not broken.” He chuckled. “But I’m never allowed to touch it again.” Mom had passed down her culinary skills to Knox and me. Talia wasn’t helpless in the kitchen but cooking wasn’t her preferred pastime.
Mateo and Eloise, well . . . they were helpless.
“Thanks for being there, Matty,” I told him.
“No problem. It was quiet. Crystal did most of the work.”
I made a mental note to text her another thank you. Without her, without all of them, I wouldn’t have had this extra time with Vance.
“Griff needs a hand tomorrow at the ranch,” he said. “But I can come to town if you need another day.”
Mateo was a pilot, and he’d spent last year in Alaska, flying planes to deliver supplies to remote areas of the state. Mom had been convinced that Matty would never come home given how bad he’d been about visiting. This spring, he’d returned to Quincy for what I’d assumed was a vacation, except he hadn’t left. We’d all been so happy he’d moved home that none of us had questioned why.
And he hadn’t offered much of an explanation.
Since he’d moved back, Mateo had pitched in everywhere, including the coffee shop. Wherever he was needed, he came. Like the rest of us, he had spent his teenage years working on the ranch and at the hotel.
I’d figured this arrangement would last a month or two. That he’d get restless and move back to Alaska. Maybe he’d start flying around Montana. But as far as I knew, he hadn’t spent much time at all in his plane.
And as a sucky big sister, I hadn’t pressed.
Later, after Vance was gone, I’d find the right time to press. Just not tonight.
Besides, Mateo didn’t seem ready to share. But I didn’t want whatever he was feeling to fester, not the way Cormac and Vera’s secrets had worsened from too many years of being kept inside.
Not that long ago, all I’d wanted was time. Time to think. Time to feel. Time to grieve. Maybe Mateo just needed more time. So for now, he had a reprieve.
“No, you don’t need to come in tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Another lie. Tomorrow, I would most definitely not be fine. “Thanks again.”
“All good?” Vance asked as I ended the call and set my phone aside. “Yeah. I’m lucky to have them.”
He rested his cheek on the top of my head. “I’ll understand if you want to tell them the truth.”
“No.” This was a secret I’d keep from everyone until the end of my days.
For Vera. For Vance.
Over the past two days, Vance had rarely left her side. He’d always been close by, ready to give her a hug when fresh tears appeared. If there
was a person to get her through this rough patch, it was her uncle Vance. He’d guide her back to life. He’d bear the secrets. He’d tell the lies.
We’d spent two days formulating a plan for Vera to become undead without sending the FBI chasing into the Montana mountains searching for her father.
Vance was going to leave Montana suddenly. I’d tell everyone here that he’d gotten a phone call about the shooting’s investigation in Idaho. Even Winn wouldn’t know the truth.
It would be best if the world believed Vera had never set foot in Quincy, Montana.
Vance would drive her to Idaho tomorrow and they’d spend the weekend getting her settled into his house. Luckily, she was close to my size, so I’d given her some clothes. The ones she’d been wearing for years were at the bottom of my garbage can.
On Monday, Vance would meet with his captain at the station. He might even take Vera along.
Their story would be as close to the truth as possible. Hopefully, that would ensure it was believable. And that if she was pushed hard for details, Vera wouldn’t struggle answering questions. The truth. Just not the whole truth.
Cormac had taken Vera that night four years ago. Truth. He had killed Norah. Truth.
He’d kept her in the remote wilderness ever since. Truth.
They’d leave out Norah’s history. At this point, it would be too hard to convince the world that Cormac was mostly innocent. Besides, no one knew his current whereabouts, Vera included.
To the world, Norah would remain innocent. Cormac would remain the villain.
He’d always been the villain, right? It didn’t sit right. Not anymore.
As far as what had happened with her sisters, well . . . Vera hadn’t told Cormac. She hadn’t told Vance. Each time the subject was brought up, she’d leave the room. No way she’d tell the police. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind.
That story was hers and hers alone. Maybe she’d share someday. I suspected that whoever earned that confession would likely earn her shattered heart too. But for now, it was locked away.
“Do you think this will work?” I asked Vance. “I don’t know.” He sighed. “I hope so.”
“Do you think the FBI will come here and look for Cormac?”
“It’s doubtful, considering they didn’t come when Winn called weeks ago. But there’s a chance they’ll visit after Vera reappears. They might make the rounds to everywhere she tells them they’ve been and scope it out. But if we do a good job of selling the lie, they’ll focus on Idaho.”
Where she’d claim to have parted ways with her father. “Do you think they’ll ever find him?”
Vance scoffed. “Not a damn chance.”
Vera would tell the authorities each of the states where she and Cormac had traveled these past four years. She’d tell them where Cormac might go. She’d also tell them why she’d stayed with him. She’d share more truths.
She’d admit that she’d wanted to go with her father. That she’d stayed with him, never trying to escape or run away. But after four years, she no longer wanted to live that life. So she’d finally broken free.
When it came to the details that needed to be told, Vance would be the one to deliver the bigger lies.
What a coincidence that he’d been in Montana, trying to locate her father. Meanwhile, she’d been making her way to his doorstep in Idaho. It seemed easier to spin a coincidence than admit Vance had found Cormac and Vera, then let Cormac go.
Would his captain, would the authorities, believe this story? God, I hoped so.
“Nine hours,” Vance murmured.
“I thought I was the only one keeping track.” I leaned back, rising up on my toes as he bent to take my mouth.
His tongue swept across my lower lip, but before we could deepen the kiss, footsteps descending the stairs broke us apart.
Vera walked into the kitchen with damp hair and sad eyes. “I think I’m going to go to bed. Will I see you in the morning?”
“Probably not.” Tomorrow, I was heading to the shop at four to catch up on baking before we opened. Vance and Vera were planning to leave Quincy around six.
Her chin quivered. “Thank you for everything, Lyla.”
“You’re welcome.” I walked over and pulled her into a hug, then whispered in her ear, “Take care of him.”
She nodded. “I will.”
“Take care of yourself too.”
Vera nodded, hugging me so tight it took me off guard. It was almost like she didn’t realize her own strength. But damn, she was brave. Some might think that living off the grid, hiding in the Montana mountains would be a hard life. I think what she was doing now was the real challenge.
She could do it. Vance wouldn’t let her fall.
I let her go and swallowed the lump in my throat. “Good night.”
Goodbye. Would I see her again?
“Night, kiddo.” Vance took my place, giving her a hug.
“Night.” She sagged against him for a long moment, then with a wave, she retreated upstairs.
He waited until she was gone, then faced me. In our time together, I’d never seen him look so miserable. I’d never seen those stormy eyes so full of regret. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Other than planning Vera’s reemergence, we hadn’t talked about what would happen after tomorrow. We hadn’t talked about us.
I didn’t want to talk about us. I didn’t want him to say he’d call, only to forget if he got busy. I didn’t want him to say he’d make a visit, only for it to fall through.
“No promises.” I wanted no promises that he might break. “Lyla—”
“Please. Please don’t make me any promises.”
I loved him. I loved him so much it hurt in every cell of my being to know he’d be gone soon.
If he broke those promises, I’d resent him. My love would turn to hate. I just wanted to love him.
He hung his head and nodded. “Okay, Blue.” “Thank you.”
Vance snagged my hand and turned, tugging me behind him as he walked through the house, flipping off lights as we made our way toward the bedroom. “We have nine hours. We’re not spending them in the kitchen.”
It was thrilling. It was misery. This would be our last night unless—
No, Lyla. That was a road I wouldn’t wander. If I let myself give in to the hope that Vance might come back, my entire life would stop. I’d wait and wait and wait for this man.
And in that waiting, I’d wither away, day by day. Dying just a little if he didn’t return.
So this had to be our goodbye.
We reached the bedroom and Vance spun, slamming his mouth on mine as soon as we crossed the threshold.
The ache in my heart was brushed aside for now by the sweep of his tongue against the seam of my lips.
I opened for him, soaking in every moment of that kiss. The softness of his lips. The taste of his tongue. The heat from his delicious mouth. The scrape of that beard.
If this was the last night, then I wanted it to be a night neither of us would ever forget, so I gave him everything I had. My palms flattened on the iron plane of his chest, his heart thrumming beneath his shirt.
One of his hands stretched behind my back, shoving the door closed.
Then he bent, swooped me up beneath my ass and carried me to the bed.
We crashed, a mess of tangled limbs and frantic kisses as we worked to strip away our clothes.
Heat radiated off his body, hot and liquifying against my bare skin. I melted into the mattress as he settled his weight on me, almost crushing and so powerful. God, I loved to be trapped beneath this man.
His tongue flicked against mine, sending a shiver down my spine. Then he broke away, trailing his wet mouth along my jaw to my ear. “Fuck, but I want you, Lyla.”
“Then take me,” I breathed, wrapping my legs around his hips.
He reached between us, fisting his cock as he dragged it through my drenched center. “This isn’t going to be sweet or slow.”
“Yes,” I hissed.
“You’ll feel me for days.” Days after he was gone.
I arched into him, my nipples hard and pebbled, zinging as they rubbed against the coarse hair on his chest.
He filled me with a single thrust.
“Vance.” His name was a mewl as my body stretched around his. My nails dug into the corded muscles bracketing his spine.
I’d leave my mark too.
Leaning up, I latched on to his pulse as I kissed and sucked against his collarbone. I nipped at him, my teeth leaving enough of a bite that he groaned.
“You want it harder?” He rammed his hips forward, sending his cock impossibly deep.
“Oh, God,” I moaned. “Yes.”
“Fuck, you feel good.” He pulled out only to hammer inside again.
Stroke after stroke, he didn’t give me a chance to catch my breath.
Every time he drove us together, the air rushed from my lungs.
He growled as a sheen of sweat covered his body. Then he bent and took my throat in his mouth, sucking so hard I knew exactly what I’d find when I looked in the mirror. Red marks, peppered along the column of my neck.
For the rest of my life, I wouldn’t see the invisible bruises from Cormac.
I’d see the hickeys Vance had given me instead.
I love you. I wouldn’t say those words, but they ran in my mind as he kissed me.
He was thorough. He was deliberate. Vance marked me as his.
Not that he needed to. I’d been his for weeks.
“Too much.” My orgasm was racing toward me too fast, too hard. It would leave me in ruins. “It’s too much.”
“It’s not enough.” Vance didn’t stop. If anything, my whimper only spurred him on faster. The upholstered headboard knocked against the wall in a muted thump, thump, thump.
My toes curled. My back arched as pleasure flooded my veins. And then I was gone, shattering into the oblivion. Stars exploded behind my eyelids as my pussy clenched around Vance’s length.
He didn’t stop or slow, not until he planted deep and came on a roar into the crook of my neck.
Vance’s body shook with mine, his muscles taut and trembling. Then he collapsed on top of me, giving me his full weight for a few moments as our ragged breaths filled the room. With a quick flip, he shifted so I lay boneless on his chest.
My ear was pressed against his heart and I closed my eyes, memorizing that sound.
Vance’s hand trailed down my spine. It wasn’t an absent, mindless movement. There was too much pressure in his touch. He didn’t draw random patterns. He touched me with intent. To memorize?
His other hand came to my throat, touching the marks I knew were blooming. “You still got your scarves?”
“Yes.” A smile tugged on my lips. “Good.”
He propped up on an elbow, glancing at the clock on my nightstand. A frown marred his handsome face. “Eight hours.”
Before my heart had a chance to sink, he rolled us again, once more trapping me as his hands found mine, clasping them while he gave me a tender, sweet kiss.
Eight hours.
We used them all. Every minute. Every second.
 |
TOO SOON, I was sitting behind the wheel of my car, slowly backing out of the driveway.
Vance stood on the concrete, his hands tucked in his jeans pockets.
We hadn’t said goodbye. We’d climbed out of bed thirty minutes ago, and while I’d showered, he’d begun packing clothes in his suitcase.
Then he’d walked me to the garage, kissing me before I’d slid into the driver’s seat. And now he was following me down the driveway.
I reversed into the street.
Vance stopped at the edge of the pavement.
It was dark, but I saw him as clearly as if it were broad daylight. And this was how I’d remember him.
Disheveled hair. A hand on his jaw, rubbing his beard. That tall, broad frame cast in the shadows of twilight with the brightest stars fighting the dawn. Gray-blue eyes locked with mine.
He raised a hand in the air.
I pressed one against the glass. Then I aimed my eyes on the road.
And as I drove away, I didn’t let myself look back.
