Chapter 18
A fter lunch, I’d changed back into Miguel’s borrowed clothes—the oversized t-shirt that insisted on slipping off one shoulder and those suspiciously tight jeans. No way was I touring a security facility in Caleb’s vintage suit, even if Maria insisted it made me look “proper.” Though judging by Derek’s heated glances every time the shirt slipped, maybe the casual look wasn’t any less distracting.
Derek’s “training facility” turned out to be a sleek two-story building that looked like someone had dropped a high-tech military compound into the middle of the Pacific Northwest forest. Because apparently that was just a normal thing to have in your backyard. Right next to the tactical garden gnomes, probably.
“This is our main security hub,” Derek explained as we approached. His hand hovered near my lower back, not quite touching but close enough that I could feel his body heat. It was distracting in ways that weren’t helping my concentration. “We monitor the entire property from here.”
The building was all reinforced glass and steel, managing to look both imposing and somehow perfectly at home among the towering pines. A keypad by the entrance scanned Derek’s palm, and the heavy glass doors slid open with a soft whoosh that belonged in a sci-fi movie.
Inside was like stepping into a Bond villain’s lair—if said villain was really into protecting forests and had excellent taste in interior design. Screens covered one wall, showing various views of the property. Men in tactical gear moved with military precision between workstations.
“Commander Stone.” A tall man with salt-and-pepper hair nodded to Derek. His eyes flickered to me with obvious interest. “This must be Mr. Chen.”
“Johnson.” Derek’s voice held warmth but also clear authority. “My second-in-command,” he explained to me. “He handles most of our scouting operations.”
I tried not to fidget under Johnson’s intense scrutiny. What was it with everyone in Cedar Grove and their predatory stares? Was it something in the water? A side effect of all the rain?
“Nice to meet you,” I managed, proud that my voice didn’t squeak. Much.
Johnson’s intense gaze softened slightly. “Welcome to Cedar Grove, Mr. Chen. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Thanks? Though I’m pretty sure that’s the first time anyone’s ever looked forward to meeting the guy who regularly trips over his own shadow.” I caught several of the security team hiding smiles. Great. My tendency to babble when nervous was apparently universal entertainment.
Derek led me through the facility, his hand still hovering protectively near my back. The technology was mind-blowing—cutting-edge security systems, surveillance equipment, and what looked suspiciously like military-grade weapons behind reinforced glass.
“This is… intense,” I said, watching operators track movement through the forest on high-resolution screens. “Are the local deer really that dangerous, or is this more about those aggressive squirrels I mentioned?”
Derek’s lips twitched. “We take the safety of our community very seriously.”
“Clearly. Though I’m starting to think Cedar Grove has a very different definition of ‘small-town security’ than the rest of the world.” I paused at a screen showing thermal imaging of the forest. “Please tell me those red blobs are just really warm rabbits.”
“Wildlife monitoring,” Derek said smoothly, though something passed between him and Johnson that I couldn’t quite read.
The security team watched us with barely concealed interest as we moved through the facility. Their attention made me want to check if I had moussaka on Miguel’s borrowed shirt or something equally mortifying. But there was something else about their gazes—a mix of curiosity and… respect? Which made zero sense. I was literally drowning in an oversized t-shirt that wouldn’t stay on both shoulders, wearing jeans that probably belonged on a runway instead of a security facility tour, and trying not to trip over my own feet.
“Ready for that walk?” Derek asked after the tour, his voice dropping lower in a way that definitely didn’t make my stomach do flips. Nope. Not at all.
“Sure, though after yesterday’s nature adventure with you and Caleb, I at least know which trees are most likely to jump out and try to kill me.”
The trail Derek chose wound through towering pines, dappled sunlight creating shifting patterns on the forest floor. Normally, being this deep in the woods would have my anxiety doing backflips, but something about Derek’s solid presence beside me made the forest feel… safer. Less threatening. Though that might have had more to do with how I kept getting distracted by the way his tactical shirt stretched across those ridiculous shoulders. Seriously, the man was built like a mountain—all broad chest and massive forearms exposed by rolled-up sleeves. His cargo pants hugged things that really shouldn’t be legal in at least forty states.
And those thighs? Let’s just say I was having very inappropriate thoughts about being picked up and pinned against one of these trees. Derek looked like he could probably lift me with one arm, which really shouldn’t be as appealing as my brain—and other parts—found it. I could almost imagine wrapping my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck while he…
Nope. Bad Kai. No objectifying the walking military recruitment poster. Even if he did look like he’d been carved from marble by an artist with a thing for dangerous men in tactical gear.
“So,” I said, trying to distract myself from how good he smelled—seriously, was ‘irresistible’ a standard Stone brother feature?—“do you actually enjoy playing forest Batman, or is this more of a family obligation thing?”
Derek’s lips twitched, and God help me, even that slight movement was devastating. “Forest Batman?”
“Well, you’ve got the whole dark and brooding protector vibe going on. Plus, the fancy tech. Though I haven’t seen the Batcave yet—unless that’s what’s behind those reinforced doors in the security hub?”
His laugh was unexpected and rich, echoing through the trees. The sound did things to my insides that weren’t PG-rated. The way his whole face transformed when he smiled should come with a warning label.
“They’re not afraid,” I observed softly, watching the deer. I leaned against a nearby tree, trying to put some distance between myself and the walking temptation that was Derek Stone. The t-shirt slipped farther off my shoulder, and I heard something that sounded suspiciously like a growl rumble from Derek’s chest.
When I looked up, his eyes had darkened to an impossible amber shade. The intensity of his gaze made heat pool in my stomach. He’d moved closer—when had he gotten so close?—until I was effectively pinned between his massive frame and the tree. One of his forearms braced against the bark above my head, and holy hell, the way his muscles flexed should be illegal.
“They know they’re safe here,” Derek’s voice had dropped to that dangerous rumble that went straight to my core. His other hand hovered near my exposed shoulder, not quite touching but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Just like you are.”
Safe was not the word I’d use for how I felt right now. Not with the way my body was practically begging to climb him like the redwood he resembled. Not with how his scent—pine and leather and something wildly masculine—was making my head spin. And not with how my traitorous body kept swaying toward him like he had his own gravitational pull.
With another growl, deeper this time, Derek’s hand finally made contact with my shoulder. His thumb traced my collarbone in a way that had me biting back a whimper. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, more to himself than me. His control seemed to be slipping, something primal bleeding into his expression.
Move away , my brain screamed. This is Derek Stone. Marcus’ brother. The guy you were fantasizing about bench-pressing you approximately thirty seconds ago. The one who probably knows fifty ways to kill someone with his pinky. The walking definition of dangerous attraction. And didn’t you just have an equally inappropriate moment with Marcus this morning?
But my body had other ideas. Like with Marcus earlier, I leaned into Derek’s touch, drawn by some magnetic force I couldn’t fight. Didn’t want to fight. His hand slid from my shoulder to cup the back of my neck, and the possessive gesture made my knees weak.
“Kai.” My name was a warning growl on his lips. His eyes seemed to glow as they fixed on my mouth. “If you don’t move away right now…”
I knew I should step back. Should make a joke about the aggressive squirrels and lighten the moment. Should definitely not be wondering if Derek would actually pick me up if I jumped. But instead, I asked, “What if I don’t want to move away?”
The sound Derek made was barely human—a deep, primal growl that should have terrified me but instead sent heat rushing through my entire body. His hand tightened on my neck, thumb stroking along my jaw in a gesture that felt possessive and tender at the same time.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he warned, voice rough with restraint. But his body betrayed him, pressing closer until I was completely caged between him and the tree. And wow, those muscles I’d been admiring? Even more impressive up close.
“Maybe I’m tired of playing it safe,” I heard myself say. Which was ridiculous because playing it safe was literally my entire life strategy. But something about Derek made me want to be reckless. Made me want to find out exactly what would happen if I pushed just a little further.
His eyes seemed to darken even more, that impossible amber color almost glowing. “Last chance to run,” he growled, and I swear I could feel the vibration through my entire body.
Instead of running—because apparently my self-preservation instinct had taken a vacation—I let my hands slide up his chest. His tactical shirt did nothing to hide how his muscles tensed under my touch. When my fingers reached his shoulders, his control finally snapped.
Derek moved with devastating speed, one hand tangling in my hair while the other lifted me effortlessly—just like I’d imagined, dear God—until we were eye level. My legs wrapped around his waist automatically, and the feeling of being manhandled so easily sent a shiver down my spine.
“Mine,” he growled against my lips, and then he was kissing me. Unlike Marcus’ calculated intensity this morning, Derek kissed like a storm—wild, overwhelming, and impossible to resist. His mouth claimed mine with a hunger that bordered on desperate, his lips rough and demanding against my own. His teeth grazed my bottom lip, sending shivers down my spine, while his tongue demanded entry in a way that left no room for argument.
The taste of him was intoxicating—wild and masculine, like pine and rain and something untamed. Every sweep of his tongue against mine felt like a claim, every bite a mark of possession. His massive body pressed me harder against the tree, letting me feel the raw power contained in those muscles, reminding me how easily he could overpower me if he wanted to.
I gasped when he nipped particularly hard at my bottom lip, and he took advantage to deepen the kiss even further. The hand in my hair tightened to the point of sweet pain, tilting my head to exactly the angle he wanted, while his other hand gripped my hip with bruising intensity. The possessive gestures shouldn’t have been as hot as they were, but my body apparently had opinions about being manhandled by gorgeous men built like tanks.
His kiss grew even more demanding, almost primitive in its intensity. Each stroke of his tongue, each sharp bite followed by a soothing lick, seemed designed to mark me as his. When I tried to take control of the kiss, he growled—a sound that vibrated through my entire body—and pressed closer, using his size to remind me who was in charge. The way he kissed wasn’t just passionate; it was territorial, primal, like he was trying to devour me whole.
When he finally pulled back, letting me breathe, his eyes were almost feral. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, voice rough with desire. His thumb traced my now-swollen lips, and I couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “How hard it’s been to hold back.”
What are you doing? my brain screamed. First Marcus this morning, now Derek? What happened to your carefully planned, boring life? Your dedication to avoiding complications? Your—oh God, he’s kissing your neck.
All rational thought fled as Derek’s mouth found that sensitive spot just below my ear. His stubble scraped against my skin in a way that had me tightening my legs around his waist. He growled in approval—actually growled, which should not be as sexy as it was—and pressed me harder against the tree.
“Derek,” I managed, though it came out embarrassingly close to a whimper. “We should… we should probably…”
“Stop?” he suggested, but his lips never left my skin. “Be responsible?” Another kiss, lower on my neck. “Pretend this isn’t exactly what we both want?”
His whole body suddenly tensed, a shudder running through him that I felt everywhere we touched. Which was… pretty much everywhere, considering I was still wrapped around him like an octopus with poor life choices. He pulled back slightly, his breathing heavy and uneven. His eyes squeezed shut like he was fighting some internal battle.
“Derek?” I touched his face, concerned by how he seemed to be physically struggling with himself. His jaw was clenched tight, muscles jumping under my fingers.
He growled—a sound deeper and more animalistic than before—and pressed his forehead against mine. “You make it so hard to control myself,” he ground out. His grip on me tightened almost painfully before he forced himself to loosen it. “So hard to… to think straight.”
I should probably be terrified by the raw power radiating from him, by how easily he could overpower me. Instead, I wanted to soothe whatever was causing him such obvious distress. My fingers stroked through his short hair, and he actually shuddered.
“Who says you need to control yourself?” I whispered, which was apparently the wrong—right?—thing to say because his eyes snapped open, and holy hell—they seemed to actually glow now, burning with an intensity that stole my breath.
“Kai. You don’t… I can’t…” He buried his face in my neck, breathing deeply, his stubble scraping deliciously against my skin. Every few seconds, another shudder would rack his massive frame, accompanied by those incredible growls that weren’t helping my ability to think rationally.
“I should put you down,” he muttered against my throat, but his arms only tightened. “Should let you go. Should…”
I wound my fingers deeper into his hair, and his next growl vibrated through my entire body. “What if I don’t want you to let me go?”
The sound he made was purely animal. His mouth claimed mine again, and this kiss was even more desperate than before. One of his hands slid under my borrowed shirt, his palm burning hot against my lower back, and I arched into the touch without thinking.
He wrenched away with a curse, his breathing ragged. “Can’t… losing control,” he panted. “Need to… fuck.”
The last word came out as more of a snarl, and suddenly Derek was setting me down with extreme gentleness that seemed to cause him physical pain. He stepped back, then another step, his massive chest heaving like he’d run a marathon. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, tendons standing out on those impressive forearms.
“Derek?” I hated how breathy my voice sounded, how my body swayed toward him even now. The tree at my back was probably the only thing keeping me upright, because my legs felt about as stable as Jell-O.
“Don’t,” he growled, and God, his voice was wrecked. “Don’t move. Please.”
He paced a short distance away, every movement screaming barely leashed power. I watched, fascinated and a little turned on—okay, a lot turned on—by this display of raw strength and careful restraint. It was like watching a caged predator, except the predator had caged itself.
“I’m sorry,” I offered, though I wasn’t entirely sure what I was apologizing for. Making him lose control? Wanting him to lose control? Being simultaneously attracted to him and his brother? That last thought brought a fresh wave of guilt and confusion.
Derek’s laugh was harsh. “Trust me, little one, you have nothing to be sorry for.” His eyes, when they met mine, still held that impossible amber glow. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have… This isn’t…”
He ran a hand over his face, his expression torn between desire and something that looked almost like pain. When he looked at me again, his eyes traced over my thoroughly kissed lips, my messed-up hair, the marks I could feel forming on my neck. Another full-body shudder ran through him.
“We should head back,” he said, though everything about his posture suggested he wanted to do exactly the opposite. “Before I… before this goes too far.”
Too late , I wanted to say. Pretty sure we crossed ‘too far’ somewhere around the time you pinned me to a tree and ruined me for normal kisses forever.
Instead, I just nodded, not trusting my voice. As we walked back, Derek kept a careful distance between us, though his eyes never left me. Every few steps he’d clench his fists or take a deep breath like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for me.
I tried to sort through the chaos in my head. This morning I’d kissed Marcus, and it had been intense and overwhelming in the best way. Now here I was, practically climbing his brother like a tree, and it had been just as overwhelming but in a completely different way. What the hell was wrong with me? And why did it feel less like cheating and more like… pieces falling into place?
Derek suddenly stopped walking, a shudder racking his massive frame. When I turned to look at him, his eyes had that impossible amber glow again, burning with barely contained need.
“Kai.” My name was a desperate growl. He took a step toward me, then another, moving with the fluid grace of a predator. “I can’t… you smell so…”
I should back away. Should not be mesmerized by the way his muscles flexed as he fought for control. Should absolutely not want him to pin me against another tree. But my body had other ideas, swaying toward him.
“Please,” he ground out, though I wasn’t sure if he was begging me to run or to stay. “I can’t… fuck…”
As if summoned by Derek’s obvious distress, Marcus and Caleb burst through the trees, moving with impossible speed. I hadn’t heard anyone approaching—how had they known to come? And how had they gotten here so fast from the manor?
“There you are!” Caleb’s voice was forcefully cheerful as he immediately wrapped an arm around my shoulders, practically shifting me away from Derek. Despite his playful tone, there was an urgency to his movements I didn’t understand.
Marcus stepped between us and Derek, his stance protective, though I couldn’t tell who he was protecting. Derek wasn’t looking at any of us anymore. His hands were clenched so tight I could see white knuckles, his breathing ragged and uneven.
“Derek.” Marcus’ voice held a command I didn’t understand. “Go.”
Derek turned and… holy shit, I didn’t know anyone could move that fast. One second he was there, the next he was disappearing deeper into the woods at a dead sprint.
“Did he just—” I started.
“Training exercise,” Marcus cut in smoothly, though his eyes never left the direction Derek had vanished. His voice was calm but held an edge of tension. “Derek takes his security duties very seriously.”
“Very, very seriously,” Caleb agreed, steering me back toward the house. His usual playful tone seemed forced, and his arm around me was just a little too tight.
I let Caleb guide me along the trail, but not before catching one last glimpse through the trees. Even from here, I swore I could hear something that sounded like a frustrated growl echoing through the forest. Something deeper and more primal than any sound I’d heard Derek make before.
Marcus fell into step on my other side, and I suddenly felt very small between them. The way they bracketed me felt protective, almost possessive, and that really shouldn’t send such a thrill through my body. Especially not when my lips were still burning from both brothers’ kisses—Marcus’ calculated intensity by the lake this morning and now Derek’s wild, desperate claim against the tree.
“So…” Caleb’s voice was deliberately light as we walked. “I’m guessing the security tour was interesting?”
I touched my still-tingling lips, remembering exactly how ‘interesting’ it had been. “Yeah,” I managed. “You could say that.”
Marcus made a sound that might have been a cough or might have been a laugh. When I looked at him, his eyes held the same intensity they had this morning in the car. The heat in his gaze made my breath catch, and Caleb’s arm tightened around my shoulders in response.
Great. Because I needed more confusing feelings about multiple Stone brothers. And why did being sandwiched between them feel so… right?
T he dining room was a study in controlled chaos. Maria and Jorge were bickering in rapid-fire Spanish over the proper way to plate the cordero al horno, while Anna tried—and failed—to hide her smile behind her napkin. Miguel watched his girlfriend with obvious adoration, seemingly immune to the culinary warfare happening around him.
I was seated between Marcus and Caleb again, which was becoming a strangely comfortable pattern. Yet the empty chair kept drawing my attention. Something felt… off without Derek’s brooding presence completing our little square.
“The lamb must rest properly!” Jorge insisted, brandishing a carving knife like a weapon. “The juices need to redistribute!”
“Ay, por favor!” Maria rolled her eyes. “As if you invented cooking! My grandmother was making cordero al horno before your abuelo could walk!”
The roasted lamb finally made it to the table, and holy hell—it was a work of art. The meat was perfectly browned, fragrant with herbs from Maria’s garden, and the aroma alone made my mouth water. Alongside it came her seafood stew that smelled so incredible it should be illegal, and a massive platter of pollo al ajillo that had me seriously reconsidering my life choices. How had I lived this long without Maria’s cooking?
“Where’s Derek?” I asked, trying to sound casual as Maria heaped my plate with enough food to feed a small army. “Shouldn’t we wait for him?”
Marcus’ expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. “He’s busy with work. Security matters.”
“At dinnertime?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
“Derek takes his duties very seriously,” Caleb jumped in, passing me a basket of fresh bread that smelled like heaven. “Try the bread—Jorge made it fresh this afternoon.”
I wanted to press further, but Maria chose that moment to unleash her seafood stew—the rich aroma of saffron and seafood making my mouth water. “Eat! We’re celebrating your new job!”
“You’ve known me for two days,” I pointed out, even as I took a bite that made me want to weep with joy. “Is this level of celebration normal?”
“Pah!” Maria waved off my protest. “Family is family, whether it’s two days or two decades. Now, try the pollo al ajillo before Jorge claims his version is better.”
“My version IS better,” Jorge muttered, but he was smiling as he passed me a plate of garlicky chicken that practically glowed with olive oil and herbs.
The food was incredible—each dish better than the last. But I couldn’t shake the weird emptiness of that chair or the memory of how Derek had looked before running into the woods. The way Marcus and Caleb kept exchanging glances when they thought I wasn’t looking didn’t help either.
“The cordero al horno.” Anna sighed happily, breaking into my thoughts. “Maria, you’ve outdone yourself.”
“She’s right,” Miguel agreed, sneaking a kiss to Anna’s cheek that made her blush. “Though maybe not as good as last Christmas?”
“Last Christmas?” I asked, grateful for the distraction.
“Ah, wait until you see Christmas here!” Maria’s eyes lit up. “The whole manor transforms. Lights everywhere, the smell of pine and cinnamon…”
“And Maria and Jorge’s legendary cookie war,” Caleb added with a grin.
“It wasn’t a war,” Jorge sniffed. “My mantecados clearly won.”
“In your dreams,” Maria shot back. “My polvorones had everyone begging for seconds!”
I laughed at their bickering, letting the warmth of this strange little family wash over me. It was bizarre how comfortable it felt, how natural. Even Marcus’ quiet presence and Caleb’s playful commentary felt… right.
But my eyes kept drifting to that empty chair, and my neck still tingled where Derek’s stubble had scraped against it in the woods. Why did his absence feel like a physical ache? And why did Marcus and Caleb keep watching me like they were waiting for something?
The dogs didn’t help my unease. Shadow and Scout had positioned themselves around my chair as usual, but Storm’s absence—like his master’s—left a noticeable void. The two remaining dogs kept exchanging glances at the empty space where their packmate should be, and I couldn’t help but relate to their unsettled energy. Something felt wrong about having dinner without either of them here, and I found myself missing both Derek’s brooding presence and Storm’s watchful gaze.
I caught myself mid-thought. Wait, missing him? Since when did I miss Derek Stone? I barely knew the guy. Sure, he’d kissed me senseless in the woods, but…
I stabbed a piece of lamb with perhaps more force than necessary. This whole situation was getting way too complicated.
“More seafood stew, carino?” Maria was already ladling another generous portion onto my plate before I could answer. “You’re too skinny. How does a boy your age get so skinny? What did they feed you at that university?”
“Mostly ramen and regret,” I quipped, earning a horrified gasp from Maria and an amused snort from Caleb.
“Virgen Santísima!” Maria crossed herself. “No wonder you need feeding up. Jorge! Bring the rest of the bread!”
“The rest of the—” I started to protest, but Marcus’ hand on my arm stopped me. His touch sent a wave of heat through my body that had nothing to do with the spices in the food.
“Best to just accept it,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “Maria’s taken you under her wing now. Resistance is futile.”
“Like being adopted by an army of grandmothers?” I whispered back and was rewarded with one of Marcus’ smiles. The kind that transformed his whole face and made my heart do embarrassing gymnastics in my chest.
Caleb leaned in from my other side, his shoulder brushing mine. “Wait until she starts sending you home with Tupperware. I swear she has a secret stash somewhere.”
“Three cabinets full,” Miguel confirmed with a grin. “And that’s just the ones I know about.”
“As if you don’t like it!” Maria scolded her son. “You love having extra food in your room!”
The banter continued around me, warm and familiar despite having known these people for such a short time. But I couldn’t help glancing at that empty chair again.
A sudden crash of thunder made me jump, and I realized it had started raining—hard. The sound of it drumming against the manor’s windows only highlighted Derek’s absence. Was he still out there? In this weather?
“He’ll be fine,” Marcus said quietly, reading my concern. His hand grasped mine under the table, squeezing gently. “Derek’s handled worse than a little rain.”
On my other side, Caleb pressed his leg against mine in silent support. The warmth of them both should have felt overwhelming, but instead it was… comforting. Even as part of me wondered why they seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.
“Now!” Maria’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Who’s ready for dessert?”
“You made dessert too?” I stared at Maria in disbelief. “When did you even have time to—”
“Ah, carino, a proper celebration needs proper dessert!” She disappeared into the kitchen, still talking. “And none of Jorge’s fancy modern nonsense. Traditional almond cake, like my abuela used to make!”
“My crema catalana is not ‘fancy nonsense,’” Jorge muttered, but his protest lacked heat. He was already clearing plates with the efficiency of someone who knew better than to get between Maria and her dessert mission.
The tarta de Santiago arrived like a work of art, dusted with powdered sugar in an intricate cross pattern that looked too perfect to eat. The rich scent of almonds and citrus made my mouth water, even though I was already stuffed from dinner.
“The cross pattern is traditional,” Marcus explained, noticing my admiration of the design. “It’s named after Saint James—Santiago in Spanish.”
“Show-off.” Caleb nudged me with his shoulder. “He just wants you to think he’s cultured.”
“As opposed to you, who just wants me to think you’re…” I trailed off, realizing I was maybe getting a little too comfortable with the flirting. But Caleb’s delighted laugh and Marcus’ amused huff made my cheeks heat pleasantly.
Maria cut generous slices for everyone, and oh my God. The cake was somehow both dense and light, rich with ground almonds and bright with citrus zest. Each bite melted in my mouth, making me forget I’d sworn I couldn’t eat another bite.
“This is incredible,” I managed. “How are you all not the size of houses eating like this?”
“Good genes.” Caleb winked, and Marcus almost choked on his cake, throwing his brother a sharp glare that clearly said ‘watch it.’
A particularly loud crack of thunder made me glance at the windows again. The rain was coming down in sheets now, drumming against the glass. Somewhere out there, Derek was… what? Working? Running? The cake suddenly felt heavy in my stomach.
“He knows these woods better than anyone,” Caleb said softly, his usual playful tone serious for once. “Trust me.”
I wanted to ask how they always seemed to know what I was thinking. Wanted to demand real answers about where Derek was. Wanted to understand why I cared so much about someone I barely knew.
Instead, I took another bite of cake and tried to focus on Maria’s story about the first time she attempted this recipe as a young bride. But my eyes kept drifting to that empty chair, and not even the world’s best almond cake could fill the strange hollow feeling it left behind.