Paris sat on the deck of her grandfather’s cabin, staring at the sunset. Even though it was June, she still wore a jacket. Wyoming summers were nice, but still cold in the mountains at night. She reflected on the call she’d gotten from Shane. He’d told her he’d seen Logan, and it was true—Logan didn’t remember. He’d told her that he didn’t know where Logan had gone, and to be careful.

It would seem touching, like Shane might really still care about her well-being, if he wasn’t leaving to take their son with his new wife on vacation.

She had taken half a panic attack pill tonight. She didn’t like to take them often; she was a mother first and had to be alert and ready if Ty needed something. Usually she just dealt with this anxiety that would flare up sometimes.

Tonight she’d made an exception. She also made another exception and had two glasses of wine, instead of just one. Probably not smart, but she didn’t care at the moment. She opened her laptop, thinking that work might be just the cure for some of the nervous energy that hadn’t been alleviated by the medication haze yet.

Activating her personal hot spot on her phone, she downloaded new emails. Surprisingly, there weren’t that many. She was grateful that Michelle was good at handling details, which helped to cross a lot of tasks off her daily lists most of the time.

As she looked through another contract she had to deal with for this All-Stars Event, she forwarded it to her attorney and then sent an email to Montana Crew’s company, telling them Ford Events would handle the legal procedures and everything would be ready for the concert.

She was truly grateful the All-Stars Event had taken off the past couple of years. It really helped to pay the bills. Of course, it’d been the thing she and Shane fought about the most, but what did it matter now?

The pills and wine had taken the edge off her worry. She turned off the hot spot on her phone and shut her computer, wrapping her sweater closer around her shoulders and staring out at the sunset. There was this nagging feeling that something wasn’t right, but she pushed it away. She pushed away the fact that her five-year-old son was leaving with his father. Pushed away the fact that she was alone. Pushed away the fact that Logan was somewhere. It wasn’t her problem, right? She … it’d been over for so long.

This was all ridiculous. Of course she wanted him to get help. Hoped he would get his memory back and be able to do what he needed to do in his life. Like so many times, her mind flashed to the last time she’d seen him. He’d come for her mother’s funeral, which had ticked Shane off too. It hadn’t been something she expected. She didn’t even know how Logan heard about it. He hadn’t shown up in a showy way.

No. He’d just been waiting at the graveyard after. The service had broken up and Shane and Ty stood by her, holding hands. Her father slouched at her other side. She had felt broken.

Then Shane had said, “He’s here,” in that disgruntled tone he always got when he spoke of Logan the past couple of years.

Logan had purposely waited until all the others who had attended the funeral were gone. Making sure no one else had seen him. Just off to the side.

Her father had patted her shoulder. “I guess he probably loved her too. He was in our home almost as much as you.” Her father had lifted his hand and waved at Logan.

Shane had grunted and picked up Ty. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

Logan had moved forward, meeting at the gravestone and taking her father into a hug. Her father had always loved Logan like a son. Even though it was awkward now, her father often told stories about him to her, despite her telling him to stop.

Logan’s eyes had been red when he’d pulled his sunglasses off. “I’m so sorry,” he’d said to her father.

Her father, the wrinkles deep around his eyes from the past couple of years of fighting the cancer, had only thanked him, then moved toward the parking lot. “Take your time, Paris.”

She and Logan had stared at each other. It’d felt … real.

Even now, a surge of tears threatened to choke her throat. His piercing green eyes had had that same look, the look she’d known all her life. “I’m sorry, Pear,” he’d said, his lip trembling as he gestured to the coffin. “I loved your mom.”

She’d fallen into his arms. She still remembered how it’d felt like everything and nothing was between them. It was only moments later, when she’d heard Shane call to her, that she pulled her arms back, somewhat ashamed to have her husband see the way she couldn’t stop from falling into Logan.

Logan had pulled back and let out a light laugh. “Man, he can’t … I …” He’d taken her off guard and pulled her in for a kiss, revealing he’d known the secret she and Shane had taken great care to hide from him.

She’d been lost for a moment, then pulled back, with tears in her eyes. “Don’t ever do that again.” She’d been shaking. “Goodbye, Logan,” she’d whispered, leaving him standing there. The only thing that mattered was her son and his safety, protecting her family.

A knock startled her from that memory. She jolted to a standing position, knocking over the deck chair she was sitting on. Moving into the cabin, she hesitated before opening the door. It wouldn’t be surprising if the neighbor, Ms. Pixley, was waiting for her with something warm. She always noticed when Paris was here. It had been so long she wasn’t expecting such a warm greeting, and it usually took a couple of days. Pulling open the door she felt her heart slam into her gut. It wasn’t Ms. Pixley at all …

It was those dangerous green eyes she’d known all her life. It was the dark hair that was now mussed and hung over his eyes. It was his jawline and the way he gritted his teeth. “Pear …”

It was Logan Slade.