Chapter 1
He stopped the car in front of the ostentatious house and sat there longer than he should have. The house he had grown up in, nestled in the foothills of the mountains, sprawled across more acreage than any one family should have claimed in a town the size of St. Marys. Then again, that had always been the privilege of being a founding family. At least, that was what his father had always said.
With a sigh he opened the door and forced himself to actually step out of the vehicle. Otherwise it was entirely possible he’d spend the next several hours debating his decisions.
Even though his parents’ lawyer had mentioned he hadn’t found the key yet, he tried the front door. It was definitely locked and his parents had never been the type to have a key hidden. With another deep sigh, he walked around the house and hopped over the low wall that separated the outdoor entertainment area from the wilds of the forest.
Reaching the back door, he pulled a leather case out of his back pocket and knelt down. It had been years since he’d had to use it and he wondered if he still had the touch but the second the slim piece of metal slipped into the lock, muscle memory took over.
The lock was opened within seconds. It was the same lock he had learned to pick when he was sixteen. He opened the door and stood at the threshold even longer than he had sat in the car. Memories hit him in waves. The reason why he had to learn to pick locks in the first place. There was no stern lecture or punishment handed out when he missed curfew. Definitely no worry. Merely a locked door that he knew wouldn’t be opened for him despite how much he pounded on it.
He finally stepped across the threshold and let out a controlled breath. It didn’t feel like coming home. It was looking at a life he abandoned at eighteen. The whole damn thing could burn down for all he cared. It would be easier. He had no plans to live in this house. He wasn’t sure he had ever lived there.
He wandered through the first floor, waiting for some kind of happy memory to hit him. He remembered lectures. He remembered his mother sipping on a drink at dinner but never really saying much. He shoved those memories down as he rounded the corner of the steps and looked upward, pausing just a moment before stepping on the first step.
Halfway up the stairs, he slowed, his hand trailing along the banister. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering. There was nothing here he needed. Nothing waiting for him.
By the time he reached the top, he understood it for what it was. Curiosity. The kind you couldn’t outgrow, no matter how many years you put between yourself and the past. The kind that made you look, even when you already knew you wouldn’t like what you found.
He stopped outside the bedroom door. The one he had slipped out of and back into more times than he could count as a teenager. Pushing it open he let out a quiet, humorless chuckle.
They had turned it into storage.
Not a guest room. Not a gym. Not something useful. Just a place to put things they couldn’t be bothered to throw away.
Boxes stacked against the walls. Old furniture draped in sheets. No trace that he had ever existed there at all.
It shouldn’t have surprised him.
Still, he stood in the doorway a moment longer, staring at the space where his life had once been, and realized it wasn’t the change that bothered him.
It was how easy it must have been.
Cami Callahan glanced over when the door of the bakery opened and saw Amelia. When it wasn’t a festival week, they had a standing mid-morning ritual. Brunch after the crowds from breakfast had dissipated. She knew it was Amelia’s way of giving her a break that she wouldn’t take on her own. Over the last month or so it had expanded to include Ellie and then Maggie, although it was rare that all four of them were in attendance.
Today it was just Amelia, and she was early. There were a handful of regulars that stopped in before heading to work to pick up something for breakfast. It’s why she had grudgingly started keeping a pot of coffee brewed. Too many people insisted they couldn’t function without it.
She nodded to Amelia and went back to cutting out cookie shapes out of dough and putting them on the lined baking sheet. She’d slide them into the oven a later but for now she at least wanted to get them all cut out.
“Cami, need a coffee.”
She glanced over at Brittany. Less than a year out of high school and proudly calling this her “gap year.” Cami had her doubts there was much waiting on the other side of it, but Brittany showed up on time, worked hard, and didn’t complain. That alone made her invaluable.
Cami dusted the flour from her hands and reached for a to-go cup, filling it from the pot. She left room for cream out of habit and carried it toward the low counter beside the display case.
She looked up with a polite smile already in place.
It vanished the second she saw him.
She went completely still. “Ryan…” His name slipped out of her before she could stop it, barely more than breath.
Shock hardened into anger so quickly it made her dizzy.
“Get out of my store.”
Ryan frowned. “Cami, I just want coffee. And maybe to talk.”
Her grip tightened on the cup, the heat seeping into her palm.
“You want coffee?” she repeated, her voice quiet in a way that was far more dangerous than shouting.
Ryan hesitated, his frown deepening like he was confused by the question. “Yeah. I—”
She threw it at him.
The motion was fast, instinctive. She didn’t think…didn’t hesitate. One second the cup was in her hand, the next it was airborne.
It hit him in the chest. Coffee splashed across his shirt, dark liquid spreading in uneven stains as it dripped downward. The empty cup bounced off him and hit the floor with a hollow sound.
The shop went silent.
Ryan sucked in a sharp breath, more from shock than pain, staring down at himself as the heat seeped through the fabric.
Cami was breathing hard now, her hands trembling at her sides. Years of things she never had a chance to say, rising all at once and clawing their way out.
“You don’t get to walk in here,” she said, her voice shaking despite her effort to steady it. “You don’t get to stand there like nothing happened. Like you didn’t just…” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard, forcing it back under control. “Get out.”
Ryan looked up at her, stunned. “Cami, I didn’t come here to fight.”
“No,” she said, her laugh sharp and humorless. “You came here for coffee.”
Behind her, Brittany stood frozen at the register, her wide eyes darting between them. One of the regulars near the door quietly set his pastry down, suddenly unsure whether to stay or leave.
Cami didn’t look at any of them. She couldn’t take her eyes off Ryan.
She had imagined this moment more times than she could count. Imagined what she’d say. What she’d do.
She had never imagined he’d have the audacity to look hurt. “Get out.”
With a deep exhale, Ryan locked eyes with her before turning on his heel and walking out.
She hadn’t been aware that Amelia had walked over to her until she felt her hand on her arm, gently tugging her away from the counter. “Come on.”
When they got to the back room, Amelia pushed Cami down into her desk chair. “What just happened?”
Cami let out a laugh of disbelief. “I just threw coffee at Ryan.”
Amelia took a deep breath. She had known Cami for almost two years. She had never heard her mention anyone by the name of Ryan. “Cami, I’m going to need a little more. Who is Ryan?”
Cami looked up at Amelia. “Ryan Harrison broke my heart fifteen years ago.” She paused for a moment. “I am apparently not over it.” She frowned when Amelia took out her phone. “What are you doing?”
“Summoning the troops. Happy hour at the Inn and we are going to unpack everything you just said.” Amelia looked down at her phone as two responses came through the group text. “Maggie and Ellie will be at the Inn at four.”
Ryan jammed his finger into the up button and looked up at the elevator display. He knew Cami well enough to know that she wouldn’t have forgiven him over the years. He hadn’t expected second degree burns though.
The elevator arrived and once inside he hit the button for his floor with the same unnecessary force. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised that this hadn’t been easy. He let out a long exhale as the elevator moved its way up to his floor. She looked good. Fifteen years had only made her more beautiful. He had stalked her facebook profile and instagram account, both her personal one as well as the bakery one, so he had known exactly what she looked like now. He swallowed. Seeing her in person…he thought the memories that had hit him at the house were bad. Seeing her…those memories…
The doors slid open and he slid the key card out of his pocket. Making his way to his room, he opened the door and headed straight for the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he peeled off the coffee drenched shirt. His eye landed on ink that marked his chest on the right side. He saw it every morning and every night. A constant reminder of what he gave up when he walked away. A reminder to make it worthwhile.
He looked at the time before slipping off his watch and stripping down completely. It wasn’t eleven yet and he knew for certain he would need to find a place that served alcohol before the day was over.
