It’s been three days since I’ve seen him. Three days since our trip to Hollow Falls. Three days of staring blindly at a gift that would have once thrilled me.

What am I supposed to do with these?

The canvas is as blank as I am, mocking me. Beside it lie five tubes of paint, a scraper, three brushes—all different sizes—and a wood palette to mix my colors.

He just wants to help, Aurora. He’s always just wanted to help.

But he knows how I feel about painting. I’ve told him what it does to me. How I’ve tried and failed. And still, he handed me the wrapped canvas like I’d know what to do with it.

There was a time I wouldn’t have questioned my next move. I would have gone straight to work, painting whatever landscape swept the distance in front of me. Minutes would have turned to hours and hours to days, and I wouldn’t have noticed the change. Inspiration was everywhere, especially with Jaxon as my mentor.

Sometimes tragedy strikes us in the most unusual of ways. When my mom died, I got my first taste of how cold the darkness could be, but art helped me through it. Well—art, Lacey, and Jaxon. My lifelines. Everything changed when I woke up in the hospital. I became so far removed from who I used to be and started living in a parallel universe—no light, no guide, no explanation…no end goal.

For so long, I was okay with the numbness. The darkness. In a way, it was all I knew. It was my way of shutting out a past that would otherwise haunt me.

I’m still staring at the blank canvas hours later when there’s a knock at the door. Sighing, I lift myself from the stool and peer out the glass at the entryway. I see Claire standing there, wearing a bright smile, tight jean shorts, and a low-cut black tank top that showcases her perfectly rounded belly. If I’m ever pregnant, I want to have a body like Claire’s. Curvy in all the right places, and somehow still thin despite her habit of sneaking pastries from the glass case when she thinks no one is looking.

Twisting the knob, I pull open the door and grin. That’s when I get a better look at the whole ensemble. Silver, bohemian style earrings dangle from her ears, a matching bracelet wraps her wrist, and her cherry red hair is freshly cut, giving her bob a sharper angle in the front.

“Look who’s trying to get laid tonight,” I tease.

Claire raises her eyebrows and points at her belly. “Girl, have you seen this sexy belly? Danny has no problem getting it up when I give him the come-hither finger.”

“Come-hither finger?” I laugh, watching as she sticks her pointer finger up toward her, bending and straightening to demonstrate. But it’s the extra eye wiggle that has me laughing.

“Okay, I get it. Your belly is sexy, but I was commenting on your outfit. Aren’t you closing the café tonight?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. Amber’s got tonight.” Then she slips past me, her eyes roaming the space and locking in on the blank canvas. “Care to explain this fascinating piece of art?”

“It was a gift from our friend Jaxon Mills.” I tilt my head as she sits on the stool and turns toward the counter that faces the kitchen. “Did he tell you he taught me how to paint when I was fifteen?”

She draws an invisible doodle on the counter as she opens her mouth to respond. “No, he didn’t. But Danny mentioned some stuff. He just said you and Jax have a history that only you two could understand.” Her eyes shine when she looks up. “But it involved a forbidden romance and a love for painting. I totally swooned.”

Laughing, I walk over to the fridge and stare into it, not quite sure what I’m in the mood for. I could go for a large glass of wine, but I’ve run out and I’m not about to head to the store now. Peering over my shoulder at Claire, I frown at my hosting skills. “Would you like something to drink? Water, tea? Can pregnant women drink tea?”

She shoots me a pointed look. “Yes, but no thanks. You and I are going out.”

I let out a laugh and reel back from my hold on the fridge door. “Um. You mean you are going out. I’m going to bed.”

She bats the air with a tiny wave. “Nope. It’s Danny’s birthday, and we’re going out. To a bar. Well, to the bar. It’s the only one in Balsam Grove. We’re going to dance. You’re going to get drunk. And I’m going to be the best designated driver you’ve ever had.” She points to her tummy. “You can thank the baby for that.” She flashes me a grin, then narrows her eyes just as fast. “Get dressed.”

I scan her outfit top to bottom and decide that she’s not joking. “I have nothing to wear.”

She sighs heavily and stands. “I highly doubt that. Where’s your closet?”

I jump to my feet, stepping quickly between her and the ladder staircase. “It’s upstairs, and there is no way in hell you’re going up there with that baby inside you. I’d die if you fell off that ladder. Give me a minute. I think I have some jeans and a tank top or something.”

“Perfect,” she says, all smiles. “I’ll just…keep myself entertained.”

With a roll of my eyes, I climb the ladder and reach my closet, pulling out a pair of jean shorts first. But staring down at them, I know they’re not right for tonight. Jaxon is Danny’s best friend, which means he will probably be there. I don’t want him to see me in the same old shorts I wear every day. Balsam Grove isn’t the place for designer threads or my mother’s pearls, but I should still be able to throw on something nice for a night out.

Shifting through my closet, I eye an outfit I bought on a whim a few months ago. Something about it caught my eye, though it doesn’t quite match the conservative style I’ve been sporting since living with Scott. It’s playful, fun, and sexy—and when I saw it, it just felt like me. But when I got home, tried it on, and looked at myself in the mirror, something felt…wrong. I was ashamed of myself for wanting to wear something that might draw attention to me. So I buried it in my closet, and then it traveled here with me.

Something sparks in my chest, an acknowledgement that maybe I’m ready to be a little bit daring. I’ve come all this way to break the chains that have been trapping me in darkness. Maybe it’s time to step out of my comfort zone.

I slip into the white and black striped chiffon one-piece. The shorts fall just below my ass, and I can feel the air graze the sensitive skin there. Feeling exposed, I grasp at the thin straps, ready to rip the outfit off and exchange it for something safer—and then I catch my reflection in the mirror. My shame melts away as I realize I like what I see.

Slowly, I release the hold on my strap, reach for the black velvet buttons that run from the dip in the neck to my waist, and begin to button them. When I’m done, I pull in a breath. My eyes drift down the white chiffon, my fingers skimming the skinny, vertical black stripes. I swallow, taking in the matching tie around my waist. The bruise on my arm from my fall in the woods is still visible, but I let it breathe in spite of the dark yellow skin.

I prop the door to my bathroom open so I can chat with Claire while I apply a light coating of makeup. “What are you doing going out anyway? Aren’t you like, fifteen months pregnant or something?”

“Ha, funny! Danny’s been working a lot since the sheriff’s been helping out a rescue crew a few towns over. He hasn’t seen his friends in a while, so I suggested Franco’s. The whole town’s coming out.”

My stomach knots as I visualize an angry mob surrounding me at the stake, fiery torches in their hands. I could fake an illness, but she’d know I was lying. I could tell her I don’t want to go, but that would be rude. Or I could go and face whatever comes my way, because that’s exactly why I came back to Balsam Grove. I won’t let the people in this town dictate my future.

I swipe on some mascara and then climb back down the ladder, my black sandals dangling from my fingertip. “What do you think?”

Claire, who has been staring out the back window, turns to face me.

Her smile grows wide. “Damn.” And then she points to me. “You realize all the men in this town are married, right? Well.” She quirks her lip. “Except for a couple, but I don’t think you’re dressed like that to impress Tanner.”

My face floods with warmth. “Let’s just go before I put my pajama pants back on.”

She laughs and turns toward the door, then glances at me again over her shoulder with a grin. “The moment he sees you, he won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

 

 

He doesn’t even see me.

Jaxon’s leaning against the brick wall on the other side of the room, a beer tipped to his lips and his eyes focused on the glowing Asian beauty who’s chatting him up. It’s impossible to miss him, especially with the red beanie he wears on his head. When we were younger, his hats were reserved for keeping the hair out of his eyes when he painted, but now it seems they’re a staple. Except for that time he was swimming under the falls, I don’t think I’ve seen him with his hair down since I’ve been back.

Franco’s is a far cry from the hole in the wall Claire described on the way over. With its brick walls and dim lighting, it’s got a rustic ambiance. A jukebox plays a nineties rock song I can’t remember the name of, and there seems to be more than enough room for the thirty or so people milling about, shooting pool, throwing darts, and tossing beanbags into the corn hole board on the low stage.

I don’t know where Claire thinks I come from, but I get the distinct feeling she was trying to warn me Franco’s wouldn’t be up to my standards, as if I have standards for bars. I don’t.

Aside from the social events Scott would drag me to, I stayed in. His idea of a fun time was speaking in jargon to his buddies over import beers and fancy appetizers. I was content with my quiet—reading, cooking, bubble baths, and enjoying a glass of wine. Again, more differences between Scott and me. But the differences weren’t all bad. Without Scott, I probably would have become the world’s biggest hermit. He never let me stew in my self-loathing for too long before forcing me back on my feet. He was good for me, but wrong for me in the end.

Does that make me selfish? My chest pangs with guilt. No matter what happens, I can’t ignore the fact that Scott has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. My sweet and awkward best friend who grew up too fast, becoming far too serious and neck-breakingly handsome. I need to call him. We may not be a right fit romantically, but the thought of throwing away twenty years of friendship crushes me.

Claire and I link arms as we dart through the crowd, heading toward the other side of the bar. My stomach churns. With every step, another local throws a hard glance my way. I stick out like a sore thumb in this place, and clearly, word has already spread. Henry June’s daughter is back.

Jaxon is still posted against the wall as we head his way, his intense eyes on the same girl. She’s smiling up at him as she speaks, standing far too close for comfort. My skin crawls. He still hasn’t seen me. He’s too busy looking at her.

I hate it. I hate it as much as I hated him talking to that girl on the rock at Hollow Falls when I was fifteen.

I yank my eyes away, my gaze falling on the face of an insanely gorgeous man. With mouthwatering mocha skin and the richest light brown eyes, Danny Andrews doesn’t look like the stereotypical small-town deputy. With his tall, lean frame and confident grin, he would look right at home on the cover of a fitness magazine or a romance novel. Hell, maybe even that Bachelor show all the ladies go crazy over.

Danny matches Jaxon in height and build, but that’s where the similarities end. Stubble masks the lower half of his face, but the dimples on his cheeks peek through when he smiles. His eyes smile all on their own, and his dark, curly hair is cut close to his head. I couldn’t have pictured a better husband for the little vixen sitting in front of me.

As if hearing my thoughts, he looks back at me and lights up with recognition—but then he sees Claire. His focus is completely stolen. In one smooth step, he’s sweeping his wife into his arms and practically swallowing her in a kiss.

Wow. The heat in the room just rose to blistering. Her arms wrap around his middle, and it’s like I’ve just entered the best part of a sizzling adult flick.

I step back, feeling like I’m intruding on their intimate moment, and turn my attention to the bar. It’s long and narrow, with beer taps lining the back wall. I smile at the older woman sitting on a stool beside me. She does a double take before giving me a hasty once-over, lip curled, like my appearance disgusts her. She barks out a laugh as she tosses her eyes forward without a word.

Well, that was dramatic.

Ignoring her, I lean into the counter to get the bartender’s attention. He’s an older man, with silver sprinkled into his hair and heavy bags below his eyes. At some point, he looks right at me, a scowl already fixed on his face, but he doesn’t take my order, even when I lean forward a little more. Instead, he serves the woman with the rude stare beside me and the already drunk man on my other side.

With a frustrated breath, I push away from the bar. I don’t need to be here. I don’t need to watch Claire and Danny’s lovefest while Jaxon chats up some girl. I refuse to spend the night getting mean-mugged for the blood I carry, but before I can turn around to leave, my back slams into something hard.

I swallow, already knowing what—who—I’ll find behind me. It’s his body, his tall frame that molds firmly against my back like it was made for me. It’s his crisp cedar scent, like he’s just ridden his motorcycle through the woods. And it’s his silence that always seems to be heard the loudest.

“Two Godfathers.” Jaxon’s voice carries across the bar to a female bartender. She nods at him in acknowledgment, her rainbow-colored hair falling in front of her shoulders. Less than a minute later, two drinks, amber in color, slide beneath my chin.

Jaxon tosses her a bill, but she pushes it back with a hard look, gesturing for him to keep it. “You testing him, Jax? What are you doing bringin’ her here?”

“Just ordering a couple drinks on my buddy’s birthday, Shelby. Let’s not make this a problem.”

Shelby’s eyes narrow, then she turns to me, her pointer finger aimed at my face. “I got no beef with you, but you should know the rest of the bar does. And that man—” she looks over her shoulder at the bartender who ignored me earlier. “That’s the owner. Name’s Franco, and he hated your pops. Not a fan of you either. He ain’t gonna serve you tonight or any night ever, dollface.”

I straighten, my mouth open to let her know I really don’t give a shit, but Jaxon leans over me to lift the drinks from the bar, blocking my view of Shelby. “We get the picture. Thanks for the warning, but maybe Franco should stop being such an asshole if he wants to keep this place afloat.” Then in a softer growl aimed at me, he says, “Come with me.”

I do. I follow him, only because I have nowhere else to go. I could walk out of here, but then how would I get home? I wish I could just leave. I’m angry. Angry at that woman sitting at the bar. Angry at Franco for ignoring my order. Angry at Shelby for making things so clear. But most of all, angry because Jaxon thinks he can step in and defend me like he actually cares.

Frustrated, I move past him toward Claire and Danny, who are no longer making out. Instead, they’re standing with Tanner and the girl Jaxon was talking to earlier. She’s laughing at something as her gaze drifts to me, curiosity blossoming wide in her sable eyes.

When I get close enough, Claire reaches for my hand and pulls me into the circle they’ve created. “Aurora, this is my good friend Meg. She owns the bakery down the block.” Claire throws me a sly wink over her shoulder, and everything starts to click.

Meg. Meg’s Bakery. As in, the Meg who has a crush on Jaxon, who is also the Meg that Tanner has a crush on. Understanding fills me at once.

“I told her about your chocolate croissant obsession.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” I smile, and Meg returns it warmly.

“It’s nice to meet you too. My croissants have never been in such high demand. Thank you for that.” Her voice is sweet and melodic.

I like her, I can tell already, and I’m softened by the fact that nice people besides Claire and Danny do exist in this town.

“And you remember Danny, I’m sure.” Claire smiles proudly between us.

“Of course.” I meet his gaze, and his warmth wraps me like a blanket. “Happy birthday, Danny.”

He tilts his head, affection radiating from his expression. “It’s Deputy Danny now, Little A. And don’t you forget it.” He winks and pulls me in for a hug.

His arms are strong. Confident. They squeeze me like they’re asking me to trust and forgive him all at once. Like he knows he’s part of the town that shuns me and understands how out of place I must feel coming back. Yet Danny knows, just like I do, that this is the only place I belong.

“It’s great to see you again, Aurora. You’ve been missed.”

I laugh into his shoulder, feeling the strength of his hold which causes a squeeze in my throat. “By who, exactly?”

“Me, for one. And you know who else, Little A. Don’t let his grumpy ass fool you.” We pull apart, his hands still clasping my shoulders.

“I think we need a celebratory shot, don’t you? My birthday. You coming home. Claire handling that little pumpkin in her tummy like a champ.”

“You getting a night off for once,” Claire adds to his list with a coy look in his direction.

Danny raises his arms out wide. “There’s so much to celebrate!”

Before I wave off another drink—I haven’t even started the first—Jaxon’s handing me the two drinks he already ordered and moving back to the bar. Claire drags me to a booth nearby and starts telling me about her latest 3D ultrasound.

“I swear, Aurora. I rubbed my belly and asked her to smile for me, and she did.”

“I told her our little peanut probably just had gas,” Danny jokes with a chuckle.

Claire smacks his elbow, then chuckles and turns back to me. “Anyway, she’s perfectly happy baking away until it’s time to face the world.” She sighs as her eyes drift to the ceiling. “Can you believe there’s a person in here?”

I look down at her stomach, amazed. “It’s incredible, Claire. You’re going to be such a great mom.” And I mean it. Even though we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks, I’ve seen Claire handle stress like a saint. She’s had incredible patience training me, and I love the way she glows when she speaks about her baby.

“Thanks, Aurora. I’m trying not to think about how scared shitless I am.” She laughs.

I place my hand around hers and squeeze, wishing I had some sage advice, but I’ve never even held a baby. She’s going to be just fine.

Jaxon arrives with the drinks, Meg following and Tanner on her tail like an unusually quiet caboose. He’s not even blowing smoke tonight. I’m surprised by how different Tanner seems without his deputy uniform on. He’s nervous. I see it in the way his eyes watch Meg when she’s not paying attention, but then flit away when she turns toward him. Interesting.

I squeeze in closer to Claire to allow room for Meg and Tanner in the circle booth. Disappointment pangs my chest when I see Jaxon at the end of the table, still standing with a tray full of shots. Danny must notice our awkward arrangement because he pulls Claire out of the booth to let Jaxon in next to me. They climb back in beside him.

Yup. Awkward.

We could easily be mistaken for three couples, but the truth is so much more complicated than that. Meg in love with Jaxon, but Tanner in love with her. Me in love with Jaxon, but Jaxon in love with no one—not anymore, anyway.

But then why does he sit so close to me, his jeans pressing against my thigh? I swallow against the kick of my heart.

Jaxon raises his brows at me once he’s passed out the shot glasses. “You cool with this?”

It’s a fair question. Jaxon’s never seen me drink, but he saw my father drink, and that was never a pretty sight. My father would spend hours a day at this bar for months on end, racking up chatter about what a hopeless mess he was, with a motherless daughter at home, no less.

My father was a hated man in Balsam Grove. Clearly, he still is.

Diluting my thoughts might be the best thing for me now. Not to mention, Claire is driving. I respond to Jaxon with a nod and pick up the shot glass to take a whiff. “Tequila?”

“Patrón. You don’t need the lime, but take it if you’re not sure about the stuff.” A crease parts his brows. “You’ve done a shot before, right?”

Pinching back a laugh, I hold the shot to my mouth and shrug. “I guess you’ll find out.”

Everyone is poised with their drinks in their hands—Claire with her club soda and the rest of us with our tequila.

“Let’s do this!” Danny yells, pounding one fist on the table while he tips his glass to his mouth.

“Happy birthday, buddy,” Jax says.

“Happy birthday, douchebag,” Tanner grumbles.

“Happy birthday, baby!” Claire screams.

“Happy birthday, Deputy,” I say before tipping back the shot. Liquid sears my throat as it slides down. I take the burn with bulging eyes. Grabbing the lime, I wedge it between my lips and chomp down to cool the burn as fast as possible.

The truth is, I haven’t done a shot since college, and even then it was a rare occurrence. Since graduating, I’ve only had the odd mixed drink, beer, and wine. Tequila shots? Never.

A throaty laugh beside me burns my cheeks and I turn. Jaxon is watching me, tossing the straw from his Godfather and angling the liquid into his mouth. “Here.” He pushes something in front of me, and when I look down, I frown.

“Water?”

He shrugs. “Do you want something else?”

I eye the second drink he ordered, pointedly—he never technically gave it to me. He grins, pushing it my way. “All yours.”

I take a sip—more like a guzzle. I know his eyes are on me. I can feel them burning my skin like lasers, but I don’t look back at him.

What would I say? The truth? That I’m embarrassed for holding on so hard to the past when I was dying in it? I need to find a way to let go, to move forward. I know that. But I’m not sure if I can do it with Jaxon pressed up against my body like he is now, sharing the same air and drinking the same drink. All I can think about when I’m near him is getting closer.

“You okay there, Aurora?” his voice jolts me.

“Yup.” I look around, trying to find the best way out of this booth, but I’m trapped between Jaxon and Claire.

“You can’t avoid me tonight, Little A.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snap. My cheeks heat. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but I always hated when Jaxon called me Little A. It felt like an insult coming from him. Like he wanted to remind me of our age difference.

There’s too much silence now. My feet shuffle against the floor, and my fingers slip around the condensation of my glass. I take another drink.

“You’ve been avoiding me since our walk.”

My eyes pinch close. “Jaxon—”

I look up to find his brows arched. I haven’t even spoken, and he already doesn’t believe me. I sigh. “It’s been a convenient circumstance, that’s all.”

“Ouch. A convenient circumstance?”

I swallow. “I’ve been working mornings.”

“And why is that convenient?”

Heat flames in my chest. “Can we please not do this now?”

He grits his teeth with a wrinkle of his nose. “Sure, fine. Some other time then. Maybe in another seven years.” With a lift of his glass, he’s dumping the rest of the liquid into his mouth before slamming it back on the table.

I’m not sure how to handle his reaction. My throat burns with emotion as I lean in, lowering my voice so only he can hear me. “You’re not being fair. Do you think it’s easy for me to be here? To let these people disrespect me? To feel your indifference toward me whenever we end up in the same room? Jesus, Jaxon. When I’m around you…” My eyes flicker up, locking on his as my breath hitches in my throat. My pounding heart flutters. He’s so goddamn gorgeous.

“When you’re around me what, Aurora?” The rasp of his voice coats my body in chills.

I’m not sure I could articulate it if I tried. I’m confused. I’m hurt. I’m angry. I’m sad. For everything we had and lost. For everything we should be but can’t. For a beautiful future that was poisoned by a horrific event that stole so much more than three days of my memory.

I push away from him, sliding toward Claire and Danny, who break apart from their kiss to move out of the booth and let me out. But before I can get away, Jaxon is on my heels. “Why can’t you answer my question?”

I spin around, my eyes moving over the room to see we’ve already caught the attention of a handful of people. Sighing, I shake my head. My cheeks darken as the answer to his question forms in my mind, then drips to the tip of my tongue. “When I’m with you, I remember what home feels like. What hope feels like.” Emotion squeezes my neck. “And then I remember how it all ended. I’m as angry as I am guilty. I don’t know how to get past it. I don’t think you do either.”

“Of course I don’t know how I’ll get past it. I don’t even know how long you’re planning to stick around. Why mend something if it’s just going to break again? I don’t know anything about the last six years of your life, Aurora. I was shut out, remember? And then you just show up here without a reason, without a plan.” I shiver at his words. “Look at you. It’s only been a couple weeks and you’re already trying to put distance between us. Why did you even come back?”

If that isn’t a punch in the gut, then I don’t know what is. Why did I come back? I’m starting to forget. I thought I came back to close the door to my past, but I’m starting to think my subconscious had other ideas. “What do you want me to say? That I came back for you?”

Maybe that’s exactly why I came back.

“You’re here because this is where you belong.” His conviction rings loud as people around us begin to stare. “This has always been where you’ve belonged.”

My heart is pounding as I look around. Drowned out by the jukebox tunes, the onlookers can’t hear us, but they sure as hell can see us. Another June, getting heated in the bar. Surprise, surprise. This will do nothing to prove that I’m not a threat to this town’s peace.

Stepping back, I try to gain distance between us, but Jaxon reaches out and clutches my forearm with a strength I can only define as complete and utter desperation. It stops me. It stops my heart, and I know for absolute certain I will follow Jaxon anywhere.

He guides me to the middle of the room just as a familiar acoustic cover song spills through the overhead speakers. One by one, the people dancing around us shuffle off the floor, leaving just the two of us in the center of the room.

He pulls me in and wraps a strong arm around my waist, laying a palm flat against my lower back. No one else—nothing else—matters. Not the curious eyes of those who surround us. Not my heart hammering straight into his chest. Not the gaps in my memory. None of it.

My dance moves are lackluster, but in Jaxon’s tight hold, I feel like I’m a princess at the ball. We don’t move much, just a small step right, then a small step left, his palm slipping lower until the pads of his fingers dent the skin just above my ass.

I inhale slowly, taking in the intoxicating mix of crisp earth and tequila that wafts from his skin. And when his head dips low, his lips brush my ear, and my lids flutter closed. I melt.

“I don’t know why you decided to come back,” he murmurs lowly. “All I know is that you’re here now.” My heart squeezes. “You may feel like you’ve lost yourself, Aurora. That you’ve grown distant from the things you once loved. But it’s not too late to reclaim your life. Let me help you.”

There it is again. Let me help you. Those simple words cast a ray of warmth over me, prickling my insides and reminding me I’ve been numb for too long. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time to reclaim my life, and maybe Jaxon is the perfect person to help me. Aside from Scott, he knows me better than anyone. The real me. The me before I was lost to the darkness.

“What the hell is she still doin’ here?” a man barks.

Jaxon moves in front of me just as Franco approaches, but I step around him just as fast. I don’t need Jaxon fighting my battles. “Excuse me?”

Jaxon wraps a stiff arm around my waist so I can’t move forward. “Leave her alone, Franco.” Jaxon can’t help himself. He still fights for me, declaring his position loud and clear for the entire bar to hear.

It’s then that I notice the music has died, and all eyes are on us.

“You don’t scare me, boy. You don’t see me causing a scene in your paint shop, now, do ya?”

“No one is causing a scene except for you.”

Franco scoffs, his eyes darting to the crowd and back. His eyes are so red, I doubt he sees anyone but me. He leans in. Jaxon tightens his hold.

“You think you can waltz back into this town after we spent seven years cleaning up your pops’ mess? I let you have your fun tonight, but no more. It’s time you pack your bags, sweetheart. Be on your way, back to wherever you came from because you ain’t welcome here. Not in my bar. Not in my town.”

My jaw drops.

“That’s enough, Franco. Jesus fuck. She didn’t do anything to you, old man.”

Franco’s finger comes up, jabbing it an inch from Jaxon’s face. Jaxon doesn’t even flinch. “Get her out of here, Mills, or I swear to God, I will see her out myself. The law’s on my side with this one.”

I look up to find Tanner in the same spot we left him in, still in the booth, but now his arm is around Meg. His eyes flash with conflict, like he’s not sure if he wants to watch or help. If I’m being honest, it hurts.

Claire and Danny are weaving through the crowd toward us, but the damage is already done. I feel like my chest might burst as my eyes travel around the crowd, meeting gazes that match the seething hate in Franco’s.

He’s just looking out for his town. But why do I have to be the bad guy?

“What is your problem?” I manage to hold back the tears, feeling the rage of my pain.

“You, sweetie. You are my problem. You and your batshit crazy father.”

Jaxon’s hand lands on Franco’s shoulder, the tips of his fingers whitening from the pressure. “Back off. Whatever beef you had with Henry ends with Henry. Jesus Christ, man. Aurora just lost her father. Have some goddamn respect.”

Franco’s jaw tightens and his nose flares. “Respect?” he barks. “You’re going to regret this, Mills. She was trouble for you then, and she’s trouble for you now. Don’t let those perky tits and pretty eyes fool you.”

Shit. Jaxon steps away from me and toward Franco, his elbow cocking back and springing forward faster than I can even blink. My breath catches in my throat. My palm covers my mouth. But just as Jaxon’s fist is about to meet Franco’s jaw, it freezes in mid-air.

My breath slides out in a whoosh. Danny’s hold on Jaxon’s elbow is firm as he pulls his friend back.

Jaxon pushes him away and swivels around. “What the fuck, Danny? This asshole deserved that and more.”

“I agree, but you need that pretty hand of yours. Let me deal with Franco.”

“I don’t give a fuck about my hand. This is my fight,” Jaxon growls.

I step forward again resting a hand on Jaxon’s chest. “Actually.” Our eyes meet. “This is my fight.”

Franco lets out another laugh. “Well, look at that. The June orchard blossomed, and the apples are all alike. You’re as crazy as he was, aren’t ya, little June?”

I’m fuming, my fists balled tight, and I can feel the pressure in my neck rise to my cheeks. Franco sees it. He knows he’s gotten under my skin. So he goes for another lick at my open wounds.

“I won’t let you fuck things up for me the way he did. I’m older now, lost a great deal of patience over the years.” His eyes turn to Jaxon, who’s still being held back by Danny. “Just you wait, Mills. Her colors will start shining through soon, just like her dead pops.”

It’s like a vacuum just sucked up all the sound in the room. I inhale sharply, my eyes on Jaxon. His fists are balled up, his face is red, and I swear his left foot kicks back like a bull about to charge the streets of Spain. He lunges forward again, catching Danny off guard and making him struggle harder to hold him back.

“What the hell is going on here?” booms another voice.

An older man with a shiny head, a tan shirt near-bursting at his rotund waist, and a star-shaped badge over his breast pocket comes barreling over, his face red with confusion and anger. I remember that face. The face of the man who would toss my daddy into the back of his cruiser and drive him home after he’d gotten too drunk at the bar. Sheriff Brooks.

He looks between us all, his eyes lingering on me a little too long, but he doesn’t address me. “Someone mind telling me what all this yellin’ is about? I could hear y’all from outside.”

Jaxon steps forward, Danny finally letting him out of his hold. “Franco’s kicking Aurora out because he’s got a grudge against her father.”

“That’s right. My bar, my rules.” Franco spits, stepping closer to Jaxon and staring up under his nose. “She’s got to go. Now.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Sheriff Brooks calls, placing a hand on Franco’s shoulder and yanking him back. “Leave Miss June alone. As far as I can tell, she ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

Franco turns to face the sheriff. “Are you shittin’ me? C’mon, Brooks. You know she don’t belong here. I want her out. Law says I can refuse service to anyone. Well, I’m refusing service to her.”

“You know what?” I raise my hands, waving the white flag. I’ve had enough. My body is shaking. I knew it wouldn’t be easy coming back here, but I didn’t expect this. “I’ll see myself out, thank you very much.” I start to walk away, then turn back around. “Oh. And you should really wash your hands after you take a shit. Your drinks taste like ass.” I walk away, the crowd parting as I pass. “Fuck you, Franco,” I call behind me.

“Fuck you, Aurora June,” he screams after me.

I’m still shaking as I step out the front door of the bar, but I feel liberated after standing up for myself. Sure, Franco won. I left. But I walked out on my own two feet with my head held high.

Jaxon’s on my heels, curling his hand over my shoulder and twisting me into his hold. Instantly calmer, I wrap my arms around his middle and lay my cheek against his chest. We’re hugging. I can’t remember the last time we hugged. Despite the subtle changes that come with age, we still fit together perfectly. God, I’ve missed him. Tears climb the back of my throat, building into a ball and threatening to escape. My fists clutch his shirt.

I sigh and open my eyes. They land on the gleaming silver motorcycle parked against the curb. “Is that yours?”

He nods into my hair without loosening his hold. “Yeah, the old one bit the dust too many times. I got tired of bringing her back to life.”

I laugh softly, loving that there are still pieces of us that are connected through memories. The number of times Jaxon had to haul his bike back home on foot to fix her was truly impressive. But Jaxon loved it. Along with painting and traversing the woods, he loved fixing up that old bike.

Loud chatter blasts through our quiet night as the door to Franco’s opens and our friends tumble out. Well, friends might be the wrong term. Tanner’s still got his arm over Meg’s shoulder, and his eyes narrow when they find mine. He doesn’t want to be my friend. He wants me gone, just like the rest of the town.

“Aurora,” Claire gasps, charging to my side. “Franco was such an ass. Are you okay?” She looks between me and Jaxon, exchanging concern for a slow-spreading smile. “Never mind. Stupid question.”

I nudge her and roll my eyes. “Shush.”

Brooks walks out of the bar next with a polite wave in passing. “Y’all okay to drive tonight?” Jaxon, Tanner, and Claire assure him they’re fine. He tips his hat, gets into his cruiser, and drives off.

Once he’s gone Claire loops her arm with mine. “You ready to head home, or do you have a ride?”

My eyes grow wide. “Wait, you’re going? You guys don’t have to leave because of me.”

Danny shakes his head in assurance. “Nah, Franco doesn’t deserve our money. We’re going to head back to the house and have a few beers. Play some pool. You guys should come.” That’s when I see the rest of Danny’s party guests spill out the door behind him.

Jaxon looks at me, then shakes his head. “Aurora and I have plans. You don’t mind do you, dude? You’re kind of old to be celebrating your birthday, anyway.”

Danny socks him in the arm. “I’ll remember that when it’s your turn.” He winks. “You kids have fun.”

I catch the flash of disappointment in Meg’s eyes, but she gets over it quickly, wrapping an arm around Tanner. Tanner, who still hasn’t said a single word.

“Be safe,” Claire sing-songs to me with a wink as Danny literally sweeps her off her feet to carry her to their car. She yelps, then throws her head back and laughs. Meg, Tanner, and a few people I don’t know walk off toward another car down the sidewalk, and then finally, it’s silent again.

Jaxon looks over to me. “What do you say?” he asks, his voice a soft rasp against my heart. “Want to go for a ride?”

Warmth spreads in my chest and I nod. “Yes, but on one condition.”

“Anything.”

I smile, my gaze settling on his. “Don’t take me home just yet.”