Everything I Needed (Everhope Road #3)

1. Sheriff Carter

1

SHERIFF CARTER

W e’re supposed to be divorced, not end up with our clothes on the floor next to my bed.

That is not the thought that should be crossing my mind right now.

My cold gaze locks on the woman on the other side of my parents’ backyard that they spend way too much money on upkeep. She still has that smile that is light and fun, her blue eyes always gleaming in marvel, except for the day we said goodbye three years ago, and I haven’t seen her since. The light purple dress complements her brown hair that is always lighter in the summer, and it still flows halfway down her back. Of course, she’s charming my mother. The whole reason that my ex-wife showed up to my brother’s wedding is because of her, I’m sure of it.

“Why is my ex-wife here?” I seethe to my brother, Oliver, who winces in sympathetic pain. He’s dressed in a suit with no tie. This is a happy day for him, after all, he’s finally having a real wedding with Hailey after they eloped a while back. Then didn’t tell anyone they were married for weeks, but meh, to each their own.

“I told you. Mom went rogue with the invites.”

My eyes snap to my little brother, wanting so desperately to blame this on him for agreeing to have a wedding at my parents’ house along the river. I swear small-town rivers in Illinois, far enough away from Chicago, bring some mystical element to the romance department. But right now, I have bigger issues than scolding the groom on his wedding location choice on this late-afternoon day in June.

“I can see that. Still, why the hell would she show up?”

Oliver shrugs. “Rose and you. Well, it’s not like you divorced on the worst terms. I mean, Mom still loves her. Not to mention, she got along really well with everyone in Everhope, and she and Hailey are friendly to one another, too. I’m sure Rose was just in town and then got roped into this. She’s always too polite to say no.”

Plus, she likes adventure. This is probably a prime opportunity to experience that. It’s why we divorced because she wanted to see the world and live for the moment. She’s younger that me by twelve years, and I’m pushing forty. I wasn’t going to be the one to keep her in Everhope. But I couldn’t leave, I’m Sheriff for Lake Spark County, and my life is here. I can’t fault her for still believing the world is a wonder to explore.

“It’s just Rose. I’m sure she will say congratulations then leave.”

Some people call her Rose, but she’s Rosie to me. She always complained that Rosie is what she was called as a child and she’s a woman now. I would always snort a laugh at that idea and call her Rosie anyhow.

Rosie Blisswood.

It’s what she rasped when she first introduced herself. She dropped into my life and knocked me off my feet the moment our eyes met. I was working in Lake Spark a few towns over, and she was there to visit family.

“Fuck, Carter. Just be a gentleman and go say hi. It’s not like we have assigned seating for dinner and Mom placed you next to one another.” He chuckles, but then it dies and his face falls. Probably because he remembers that Mommy dearest perhaps decided to overstep boundaries again with a smile on her face.

We do love our parents, even if they need to loosen it a bolt or two. They’re classic local elite down to their membership at the country club. While Oliver makes millions working in law for the Lake Spark Spinners hockey team, we also have family money. That’s why I don’t worry about my salary as a sheriff, because let’s be honest, I’m not paying off a mortgage with that salary.

My eyes swing back to Rosie, and it’s a mistake. Our eyes latch, and her smile fades to a tiny weak one, but still, she doesn’t look away. The same feelings I’m having must be stirring inside of her.

Is the disappointment still there? What is this moment that we are about to walk into?

The feeling of a strong hand squeezing my shoulder breaks me away from the spell my ex-wife casts on me.

“We’ve gotta start this shindig, so if you don’t mind, can you figure out your mood for tonight? Stuff a dinner roll or something into your mouth at dinner so you don’t say anything you’ll regret. This is a happy occasion, and please don’t ruin the photos, either.” He’s half teasing me and half warning me, as he should. Oliver deserves this night.

We walk side by side along the stone path across the lawn, back to the main house where there is a patio full of decorations. The hanging lights are a nice touch. They are going for laidback, which also means not exactly a large crowd. Forty people maybe, not enough to escape certain individuals.

The spot in my chest that was torn out and was only just beginning to heal aches, and my heart begins to quicken. I do my best to stare at anything except Rosie. But as soon as Oliver goes in a different direction and I’m left where the guests are all smiles and chatter, the moment arrives.

Rosie delicately takes a few steps forward, and we both seem hesitant of what to say.

“Hi, Carter.” Her voice is fragile, and her eyes drift to the side, but her mouth wears a nuanced, pressed smile. There are not many things she fears. She’s the free spirit who had a sunflower in her hair when we went on our first date.

“Rosie.” It’s a little sharp.

But ah damn, I already hear it in my voice. A sort of swelter that I only get around her, and I’m fucking about to half-smile gently for this woman, and she doesn’t deserve it. We were a whirlwind, something that I never expected was in me. I’m structured and she’s wild. We were two opposites, but she brought out a part of me that made me breathe differently. I like to think that I did the same to her.

“I was in Everhope on my way back from Lake Spark to see my aunt Lucy and my cousin. I knew Hailey and Oliver were getting married, well, again. I thought I would quickly stop by their house to wish them well. We were all friends at some point.”

“And still, you show up here?” The hint of irritation is there.

She stifles a hollow laugh. “I thought I could quickly grab a coffee from Foxy Rox on my way out of town, except… your mother was there.”

I scratch my cheek and acknowledge the humor to myself about the direction of where this story is going. “Let me guess, she was thrilled and insisted you show up tonight.”

Rosie bobs her head side to side, and the corners of her mouth curve up. “You know her so well. Then you also know that she wouldn’t let me say no. I’m positive she probably would have popped my car tire just to ensure I couldn’t leave.” She rolls her lips in and quickly circles her eyes around the area to avoid mine.

It takes a moment, but I ease a smidgen. “Probably. She always loved you and still doesn’t stop talking about you.” As in, she brings up Rosie at every opportunity. It’s irritating.

She lifts a shoulder. “I like her, and I’m easy to get along with… I think.” Her brows furrow as she doubts herself, which she shouldn’t because it’s true.

I quickly scan the area and luckily nobody takes notice of us except my mother who gives me a proud little wave before returning to her conversation with one of Oliver’s colleagues. It’s a shame I’m aware of how one investigates a murder.

A waiter appears from nowhere and offers both of us a cocktail in a mason jar. Eagerly, we both accept one then take a decent swig before our faces wilt from the sourness.

“Is it me or did they go a little strong on the gin?” She peers down into the cocktail of lime, ice, and who knows what else.

“No imagination necessary. Oliver and Hailey were insistent on having a cocktail that they created.” I circle the cubes in my jar, also investigating what the contents may be.

Rosie releases a short laugh. “It’s nice that they’re doing this. I guess when they eloped, they took a page from our book.”

Because we went to the courthouse, too. In the spur of the moment, after I bought her a vintage ring from an art market a few towns over. She isn’t a diamond kind of girl when it comes to rings.

“Your father wanted to kill me for that move.” Even I have to let a light mood float within me.

Rosie shrugs. “Well, Grayson Blisswood is adamant that his little girl still follows his lead and should have had a big wedding at Olive Owl.” Their family winery and farm down in Bluetop, not so far from here.

“I’m sure your sister or one of your cousins will have a wedding that makes up for it.”

“I guess.”

A silence lingers between us for seconds that seem far too long. This should be my cue to escape but my stupid feet remain rooted to the ground.

I remember what my mother cited recently because she keeps tabs on the latest news. “Uh, my mom mentioned that Astro passed. I’m sorry to hear.” She loved that horse. Had him since she was a kid and he lived on her family farm.

A shade of sadness crosses her face. “He lived a good life. Not everything can last forever.” It feels as though she doesn’t mean just the horse.

Which is why her words hit me like a knife, and she must realize that. “Right.” My T is a little sharp.

The moment lingers, and for a few seconds, she too seems to be suffering from her own statement.

“So, I guess we should probably go take our seats or something. I hear you have best-man duties,” she suggests awkwardly.

“I do. Ridiculously, they have their new dog bringing the rings to them instead. It just means I don’t have to worry about losing them.”

Her face puzzles. “Is that why there is an emblem of a Labrador face on every napkin? Plus, don’t they already have rings?”

“Yeah, Jet, their dog, is probably more important than any family member. They already have rings and are using the same ones, but now they have something engraved inside of them.”

And your wedding ring is still next to mine in a box in my room. It didn’t feel right to throw them into the river.

“Enchanting,” she replies simply.

The sound of someone clinking a glass brings all the guests’ attention, and when Keats, a friend of both me and my brother, announces that the ceremony will begin, people begin to move.

“Well… I-I guess I will see you around,” Rosie stammers and shifts her weight to one foot in an attempt to move.

“Yeah.”

She nods once and leaves me to watch her saunter away, and I don’t think she wanted me to notice how she briefly glanced over her shoulder.

Who the fuck of any higher power decided that I now need to sit through a wedding with my ex-wife not far away?

* * *

It was hopeless.

The number of times that Rosie and I accidentally locked eyes while the ceremony happened, I lost count.

It’s a heavy feeling.

Even the dog running down the aisle only to lie down between Hailey and Oliver while they recited their vows couldn’t cause me to laugh.

Am I grumpy person?

Normally not. I enjoy the occasional joke.

Rosie, on the other hand, everything is sunshine and butterflies and probably rainbows and unicorns too.

Now it’s night and there are candles floating in my parents’ pool. The setting is an extra reminder how two people can be so in love that they celebrate it many ways.

Keats lands himself next to me with a small plate of food in his hand. “Nice little surprise… your ex-wife. Heard it was without warning, too.” It’s Keats. A coy grin is on his face purely from entertainment.

“Something like that,” I duly reply.

We stand side by side and, ah hell, it happens again. My sight gravitates to Rosie who is laughing with Hailey about something. Her laugh trails away when she sees me, and I whip my eyes away.

“Heard you are finally running for mayor since old man Boyle decided to retire.”

“My parents have been plotting my campaign for who knows how long with the expectation this would happen. In four years, it will probably be for Congress.” At first, it drove me bananas. I thought it was a crazy idea. However, the idea of mayor began to win me over. I would be good at it, and I know this town and county like the back of my hand. We’re a small town, and I know city council meetings discuss the most trivial of topics. A new park bench was the last debate. As Sheriff I know everyone, and I’m always updated on the latest town gossip, but I’m behind a wall of law. Mayor would be the same, minus not having to worry about issuing a ticket or throwing someone into jail.

“But yeah, I’m going to do it. I have a good chance, and it’s a chapter to add to my life,” I explain. Something to partly fill the void that seems present in my life.

Keats slaps a hand on my shoulder. “That’s great to hear. You have my vote.”

“Thanks.” Maybe I don’t sound too chipper.

I notice his eyes slide between me and somewhere in the distance to my side. It’s a few moments before he tips his head in the direction of Rosie. “Just go walk away somewhere to talk. Really talk. I mean, I saw you before with her and it seemed cozy enough.”

I take a long sip of the whiskey that I opted for in place of that awful cocktail.

Keats begins to chuckle to himself. “Well, problem solved.” He tips his head in Rosie’s direction.

Quickly, I look. “Ah shit.” My mother is nearly tugging Rosie along. Rosie seems unsure and is by no means eagerly following, but my mother is too persistent.

“Have fun,” Keats mutters as he toasts my glass before he walks away.

“Carter,” my mom greets me with a bright lipstick-covered smile to accompany her peach-colored dress. “Look who I found.” She almost shoves Rosie at me. “Oh, dear.” She pretends to look over my shoulder. “The caterer seems to need my attention. I’m sure you two can have a pleasant catch-up.”

Before anyone can protest, my mom is scurrying away, leaving Rosie and me be.

Our eyes both follow my mom’s steps in astonishment at her obvious ballsy interruption.

In unison, we look at one another, and I’m desperate to hide my genuine desire to laugh; instead, I present a tight smile.

“Subtle as always,” I grit out.

Rosie can’t help it and chortles a laugh, ignoring my steely demeanor. “It’s kind of entertaining. I’m happy that I stuck around.” She realizes her innocent words strikes a chord.

Without a question, she grabs the drink from my hand and downs it dry. She must be nervous around me.

My brows knit together, and my jaw flexes side to side to lock in my entertained grin. “Flustered?”

“No,” she lies.

“Look, I think we can both agree that this was an unexpected encounter today. It seems we can be somewhat cordial, and that’s what it is.” After all, we grew apart. It wasn’t as though some malicious event happened.

“Always the mature one,” she retorts.

Lifting my shoulders, I can’t deny it. “Well, doesn’t always work in my favor.” It probably bogged her down, right?

That silence floats back between us.

“I should probably skip the whole dessert table and cake with sparkler. I think I even saw an entire cake for the dog.”

“You’re crazy about dessert,” I point out.

She blows out a breath in an attempt to calm her body. “I was crazy about many things. All the more reason I should probably go.” I’ve never seen her eyes haunted by the past, until now that is.

“Okay,” I reply softly. I’m not going to argue. She nods and begins to step away, but I gently touch her elbow to stop her. “Wait…”

I’ve caved to weakness.

She peers up with wonder. “Yeah?”

“Do you maybe want to catch up for a minute or two?”

Immediately, a faint warm smile paints on her face. “I would like that.”

“Don’t move.” I beeline it to the bar and reach over to grab a bottle of whiskey when the bartender isn’t looking, not that he would care. Returning to Rosie, I hold up the bottle. “Let’s go for a walk.”

She nods in agreement, and a minute later, the sounds of soft music and conversations are babbling in the distance. I offer her the bottle, and she accepts.

“Heard you were running for mayor. The election is in January, right? Your mom nearly talked my ear off about it. To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised.”

Rolling a shoulder back as we slowly stroll side by side, I bite my bottom lip. “I keep hearing that from people.”

“Because you are a good person,” she says, insistent.

I could dispute that it wasn’t enough for her, but now doesn’t feel like the right time.

“How did seeing the world go?” I ask as she hands me the bottle.

“Okay. I went many places. Got my yoga teacher certification. Even went up to Alaska.” Then why do you sound sort of deflated? Disappointed even, I wonder.

“And now you’re back to Illinois.”

“Yeah,” she replies softly. “I’m staying with my parents until I figure things out. I’m already teaching yoga and organizing a few wellness retreats at the winery, also the Dizzy Duck in Lake Spark has asked me to lead a few. I’ve even started to follow some courses online for combining learning development with movement and art. Hailey asked if I wanted to give children’s yoga classes at her preschool, and it will be fun.”

It seems she’s back in my orbit for the longer term, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Quiet floats around us as I’m feeling the alcohol begin to ease me. We pass the bottle between us, and it’s probably because we both have more questions but don’t dare to ask. This is when I remember that my mom already let it slip that Rosie is single.

“I guess we might be crossing paths again,” I highlight.

“Seems so.”

That odd sound of silence returns to us for a few beats until she breaks it. “Look, Carter, I-I… it’s just I don’t know how to navigate being in the short mile radius of one another again.”

I stop and pivot to my side to give her a bitter glare. “We should have thought about that before we signed divorce papers.”

Her mouth opens but only a cracked sound escapes. I wince at my sudden harsh mood before blowing out a long breath.

We both face forward, trying to determine if our catch-up is now over. We remain stalled, and I suddenly realize that I didn’t take notice of where we were walking. My gaze lifts up to the street sign. My parents live a few streets away from mine.

Unintentionally, we are at Everhope Road. The place where I now live.

The street that our feet seem to gravitate to.

* * *

I blink my eyes open, and I feel kind of heavy, even though I hit the gym several times a week. The sheets feel loose and twisted, causing me to roll over and investigate, only to find the mattress sheet wrinkled due to someone having lain there.

That’s when I sit up, the sheet dropping to the waist of my naked body. As clear as day, I see her.

Rosie is at the end of my bed with her back to me, zipping up the side of her dress.

Oh, shit.

Last night.

“You’re running away,” I mumble and rub a hand across my groggy face.

Rosie sighs. “This shouldn’t have happened. Okay, so we went for a little walk with a bottle of whiskey. We somehow got carried away.”

I scoff a breath and appraise my room where clothes are scattered on the floor. “Something like that.”

Do we remember what happened? To be honest, it’s a little foggy. Only laying her on my bed seems to flash into my mind. We didn’t even bother with the lights, instead letting the streetlight peeking through my blinds show us enough. I do remember skating my hand up her thigh as she clawed my hair. Do I recall ripping her panties? Hmm. I swear I can taste her pussy on my lips. I wouldn’t have deprived myself of a lick before thrusting into her so hard that it might’ve caused her to question if it was punishment.

I do recollect that we definitely snapped in a second, moved fast, starving for each other. It was by no means slow. Maybe we were both releasing frustration.

“I’m leaving. No need to talk about this.”

I recall a similar conversation before we both signed divorce papers, except she added the sentence that I deserved to find someone that would make me happy.

She didn’t get the memo that she made me happy, apparently. Instead, she left a bitterness inside of me.

I slide out of bed to find my own clothes. I’m not in the mood to argue. She’s right.

“Agreed.”

She’s finished with getting dressed, and her hair is kind of a mess, but I’m not going to point that out.

We enter a face-off. The tension in the room is unexplainable, but after a stretch of quiet, she gives me one last once-over and leaves.

Growling, I want to scold myself and repeat in my head my original thought.

We’re supposed to be divorced, not end up with clothes on the floor next to my bed.