When Sky Breaks: Burn & Break Duet Book 2

8. Sky

If there’sone thing you can count on in a small town, it’s the preservation of the old.

Snaps is still Snaps. But with a modern touch. No more ancient printers or computers and no more boring wood-paneled walls. Sleek Macs—two of them—rest on the wooden butcher block-style countertops in front of laser-jet printers. The old-school cameras that used to be on glass shelves are now protected behind the countertops away from any clumsy hands.

I approach the only employee in the store—a girl, maybe college-aged—and tamp down the bite of jealousy at her obviously bubbly attitude.

“Hi, maybe you can help me?” I say as her alluring blue eyes brighten.

“Of course,” she chirps and smiles. Her name tag reads Alex.

“Where’s Colonel?”

It’s hard to believe he’d let this place change without some grumpy dissent. I peek around for any sign of him and his bubble glasses, but the store is empty except for us two and the sounds of pictures printing.

“Oh, um, I didn’t really know him, but he retired a while ago. Mr. Moore owns the place now.”

Alex scrunches her dark brows when my jaw flops open. “Colonel retired? August—er, Mr. Moore owns Snaps?”

Feeling like a parrot, I stand stunned and try to process this information. Colonel was a grumpy, surly old man, but he and August had a relationship, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

Why do I care so much about that liar and what he does in his spare time? Because you’re not completely heartless. In fact, it bleeds a little too much for everyone.

“Yep! Doesn’t it look awesome? Can I help you with something? It’s really a self-serve type deal, but we can do canvas prints or have a photo printed out onto a T-shirt or mug…” Her voice trails off.

I’m lost in the canvas photos enlarged and displayed on the flat white walls. My mouth dries out as I absorb what’s clearly August’s work. There’s a picture from the food pantry I remember quite well and a few from what I assume were his adventures out in California. But it’s one in particular that steals the air from my lungs. I grip the countertops tightly, my knuckles white.

It’s me.

Not my face, but it’s undeniably me as I flashback to that day at the creek.

The water flows over my toes, buried deep in the rocky sand of the creek bed. A warm breeze tickles my cheeks. August watches from his position next to me, camera poised on his lap. His soft gray eyes track my fingers as I brush back my stray hairs.

“You have beautiful hands, Shortcake.”

I examine them, noting my scarred palm and short nail beds. I always thought they were a little stumpy, but if he thinks they’re beautiful…

“Hold them in the air. Make a heart. Just like that,” he says, lifting the camera as I pose.

The sun is at my back, warming me through my shirt, but my heart is on fire. August looks at me like I’m the sun and the moon and all the stars in the night sky. Like everything that makes up the cosmos dims in comparison to me.

Like I matter.

As I stumble out of the store, leaving the poor employee confused, I’m struck with a stunning realization.

August Moore hasn’t forgotten about me, either.

* * *

“I need you to explain everything right now, Trek. No more lying to me. You owe me.”

I’ve cornered my brother in his room slash home office after stewing about this afternoon for over an hour. He’s currently on contract with a company and prepping their account payables.

He sighs and rests his head on the chair, scooting away from his computer. Must be nice to work in your sweatpants and an old T-shirt. I’d be jealous if my scrubs weren’t already pretty comfortable to wear at the hospital.

“I didn’t lie about any of this.”

“Omitting the fact August owns Snaps feels like a big ole lie. Especially when you were acting all twitchy about the damn ice cream.”

“What was I supposed to do when you weren’t speaking to me? Or taking any of my calls. Was I supposed to leave that on a voicemail or a text? Oh, hey sis, haven’t really talked to you in years, and by the way, your ex is permanently back in town,” he mocks, but I see the hurt on his face. He could never hide all his emotions from me.

“Permanently?” Of course, August’s here to stay. He owns the camera shop now. That’s an enormous investment for just passing through town. “And fine. You’re right, I sort of brought this surprise on myself. Please, will you tell me now?”

Trek presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets before swiveling in his chair. “He rolled back about two years ago when Colonel retired. The old man had some heart surgery and never recovered from it a hundred percent. Ginger helped him for a bit, but since she has the bookstore, it got to be too much. Colonel’s kids didn’t want it, so he asked August.”

“How do you know all this? Do you talk to August?”

He shakes his head softly. “No. I ran into Ginger one weekend at the grocery store, and she filled me in. I’m sure he knows I’m living here. You know how small towns are. But he definitely doesn’t know about you being back.”

“Do you think he’s really here to stay?”

Again, why do I care? I have a perfectly good guy waiting on me up north.

“Looks like it. Built a house over where Connor used to live.”

It’s hard to stop my fingers from twitching at my sides.

August is here to stay.

I’m here for the unforeseeable future, or at the very least, a year. We’re bound to run into each other. My insides quake and my muscles tense.

“Sky, we never meant for any of it to happen,” Trek says.

My eyes dart to his. “I don’t know if I can talk about that right now. I—I know we have to, and we will, but...”

His shoulders droop, and on instinct, I reach out and squeeze one. It’s like my body doesn’t care what my brain thinks and acts on its own accord to comfort someone. “I promise. It’s just, it’s a lot right now. With Dad and seeing August and you, I’m just overwhelmed.”

He nods. “I get it. I’m just glad you’re here. Dad’s happy too. He hasn’t smiled that big since I moved back.”

I shoot him a wry look, and it’s almost like everything is right in the world. We’re transported to when we were teens and always ribbing on each other.

“Fine, maybe he didn’t smile that big because his grocery bill just increased but for real. I’m glad you’re home.”

It’s yet to be determined if I’m happy to be home.

I open my mouth to ask more burning questions, but the doorbell rings. “Are you expecting someone?” I turn toward his open door.

“Nope. Maybe it’s the mail. Dad’s been doing some online shopping, buying stuff for the house.”

“I wondered. He’s really been updating the heck out of things. Like the bathroom vanity, it has so much room now.”

But the doorbell rings again before Trek can respond. Foster’s asleep, so I dart from the room to answer before it wakes him.

My socks skid on the floor as I quickly reach the door and flip the lock.

“I’m coming,” I say to ward off any more ringing and open the door.

Shock flashes across my face as I stare at the man on my doorstep before blurting out, “What are you doing here?”