2. Ellie
I stepped on the brake, making my new little SUV jerk slightly as I stopped at one of the three traffic lights in Sparrow Falls. That was three total . In the entire town. Just a little different than the hardscape of Manhattan.
But as I took in the main street through town, I saw why my brother had fallen in love with the place. Mountains and forests encircled it like a ring of protection, the air had a crisp clarity to it that made you feel like it was clearing away your troubles with each breath you took, and the shops and restaurants lining Cascade Avenue were absolutely adorable and unique.
A soft honk sounded behind me, and I realized the light had turned from red to green. Even the honking here was gentler. I switched my foot from the brake to the gas, and my car lurched forward.
I winced. I’d gotten my license at eighteen but hadn’t needed to drive much in New York. I didn’t even own a car until two weeks ago when I purchased the RAV4.
Bradley would’ve hated it. He would’ve insisted on something understated but astronomically expensive. A top-of-the-line Mercedes or Maserati. Something in black or metallic gray.
At the dealership, I’d swapped white for Ruby Flare Pearl at the last moment. My hands had started sweating just saying the name. It felt like my first true rebellion in years. And it felt good.
My fingers wiggled on the wheel. I was still relishing the lightness of my left ring finger, where the diamond solitaire used to sit. The one that felt more like a chain than a promise of forever. The only remnant of it now was a faint tan line I was determined to erase, along with all memories of the man my father had all but picked for me to marry.
Heading down Cascade Avenue, I passed The Mix Up, my one-stop shop to feed my cupcake addiction; The Soda Pop, a diner with the best burgers around; and the sheriff’s station. I forced my gaze away from that building, images of dark green eyes that saw too much filling my mind.
Not today.
Today was for new beginnings and the first place that would be mine alone. I’d gone from my father’s penthouse to an apartment with Bradley, never getting to make a place mine . But that all changed today.
I flipped on my blinker and made a slightly too-wide turn onto a side street. I’d need some driving practice before the snow came. Thankfully, my new rental was close enough to town that I could walk if needed—or wanted. As I moved away from downtown, the streets turned residential with enchanting Craftsman houses on lots with yards that said the people who lived there took pride in their homes.
Making another turn onto Lavender Lane, I grinned. The houses were a bit more spread out on this street, the yards bigger. I’d looked at countless rentals. Apartments over shops, guesthouses on properties outside of town, and, finally, this one. It was perfect.
The house had been painted lavender, matching the street name. Nothing about it was cookie cutter, from the garden gnomes decorating the front yard to the stained glass hanging in each window. The outside was a riot of color that called to a part of me I’d shoved down for far too long.
Turning into the driveway, I pulled to a jerky stop and hopped out, breathing in the Central Oregon air. I’d been to places with mountains before: Aspen, Vail, Tahoe, and even the Swiss Alps. But the air was different here, as if it had a scent all its own.
A horn sounded, and a familiar Range Rover pulled in behind my SUV. The passenger door was open before the engine was off, and a woman with dark hair and hypnotic eyes jumped out, her massive dog behind her.
Arden’s eyes twinkled as she crossed to me. “Move-in day. How do you feel?”
I grinned at my brother’s fiancée. “I’m excited. Ready to make this place my own.”
“You shouldn’t be jumping out of cars,” Linc called, slamming the door to punctuate his point as he glared at Arden.
She just rolled her eyes. “Cowboy, the doctor gave me a clean bill of health a week ago. I can spar with Kye if I want to.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Linc’s scowl deepened, and his hazel eyes went stormy. “You still need to be careful.”
“Do I?” she challenged.
“Vicious,” he growled. “Don’t make me tie you up.”
Arden’s lips twitched. “Promises, promises.”
Linc’s expression softened as he gently pulled her into his arms, grazing her temple with his lips. “Just want you to be careful.”
A pang flared along my sternum as I crouched to give Brutus some scratches, anything to distract me from the longing taking root somewhere deep. My brother had found himself the best possible family. The Colsons were warm and accepting, the kind of people who always had each other’s backs. And Arden and Linc needed that. Especially when my father had tried to tear them apart and ruin their happiness.
Brutus laid his big cane corso head on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arms around his gray body. He always seemed to know when I needed a little extra comfort and was the best at giving it.
“You need a dog,” Arden said, cutting into my thoughts.
I looked up at her and grinned. “I do.”
“Will Mrs. Henderson let you have pets?” she asked hopefully. “She had a couple of cats.”
The woman who used to live here had moved into assisted living after she fell and broke her hip. But she wasn’t ready to sell the place quite yet, allowing me to luck into this rental.
“She said I was welcome to as long as I pay the pet deposit.”
Linc studied me carefully. As Arden fully recovered from her injuries at the hands of my father and his minion, Linc’s focus had turned to me more often than I liked. He was too astute for his own good, and I was a horrible liar. Another reason I needed some space from him and Arden.
“Maybe you should wait a little bit. You’ve had a lot of change lately,” Linc said gently.
Break up with my fiancé? Check. Leave my well-paying interior design job? Check. Move across the country? Check. Watch my dad go to prison? Check.
“Sometimes, it’s better to just rip off the Band-Aid.” At least, I hoped it was. I wasn’t rocking in a corner. Yet.
Linc frowned. “Maybe you should stay with us for a little longer. And I’m putting a guesthouse in at the new build. You can have that all to yourself.”
“Cowboy.” Arden laid a hand on his chest. “Ellie’s an adult. She wants her own space. This is good for her.”
My brother’s frown deepened. “I just?—”
“Love her. So, it’s natural for you to worry about her. But no one will mess with her in this house.”
My brows pulled together. “Why?”
“She just means Trace has you on his patrol officers’ drive-by list,” Linc said quickly.
Trace.
Arden’s brother and the most stunning man to ever see me at my worst. Those dark green eyes flashed in my mind again. So full of concern, with a healthy dose of pissed off.
“He doesn’t need to do that,” I gritted out as I pushed to my feet.
Arden looked from me to Linc and back again, then shook her head. “I’m not getting between you two. El, we got groceries to stock your kitchen.”
I grimaced. Just another new thing I’d be tackling in this era. Cooking. Living in New York meant restaurants on every corner and some of the best cuisine the world had to offer. Sparrow Falls had some delicious spots, but certainly not enough to sustain me seven days a week.
“She’s going to burn the house down,” Linc muttered as he pulled me into his side.
“I am not,” I huffed.
Amusement danced in his eyes. “At least I learned how to boil water for ramen in college.”
Because that was all he could afford. My brother had stood strong when our father cut him off. He’d gotten a scholarship and loans so he could go to the college of his choice. Not me. I’d toed the line, attending Columbia and living at home just like Dad wanted.
Anger surged. But not at my father, at me for going along with it. I’d wanted to study painting at Savannah College of Art and Design, but it was far too hippie for Philip Pierce’s tastes. And I’d caved, not wanting to rock the boat. But I hadn’t known I was kowtowing to a killer.
“Hey.” Linc gave my shoulder a soft squeeze. “You okay?”
I lifted my gaze and forced a smile. “Peachy. Just thinking about what culinary masterpiece I’m going to serve you to make you eat your words.”
Linc chuckled. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
I set the final box in the living room and surveyed the space. As vibrant and quirky as the outside of the bungalow was, the interior was fairly…bland. Furniture in neutral tones with the occasional hint of color in the form of a throw pillow. It reminded me too much of my bedroom growing up, as well as the apartment I’d shared with Bradley and the aesthetic my design firm favored.
Rocking from my toes to my heels, I started envisioning what the space could be. The colors and textures I could use to bring it to life. The only problem? I wasn’t sure what I wanted my life to be. And I’d gone so long without color that I wasn’t sure what my favorites were anymore.
Color wasn’t the only thing I’d gone without. I’d missed out on so many things. But I could only change one thing at a time.
I slid my phone out of my jeans pocket and moved to one of the bags from the massive haul I’d gotten at a catchall store. Grabbing a portable speaker from the bag, I hooked up my cell and opened my music app. It only took a couple of minutes of scrolling before my lips tugged up.
Boy Band Bangers.
I hit play, and *NSYNC’s Tearin’ Up My Heart filled the room. My preteen heart soared .
Sayonara, silence.
I lost myself in unpacking everything I’d purchased for my rental over the past few days and the suitcases of personal items I’d brought from New York. I’d left behind a closetful of clothes Bradley was likely shredding out of spite.
It didn’t matter. That wardrobe was just as bland as the walls of my apartment. I’d get new clothes that fit the me I didn’t quite know yet.
By the time I finished getting the bulk of my new belongings settled, I was a starving, sweaty mess. But Backstreet Boys were keeping me going with Everybody . I swung my hips to the beat as I made my way to the kitchen.
Looking around the room, I tried to decide what the easiest thing to make would be. Definitely nothing that required steps and assembly. Maybe I could take a cooking class for that.
I crossed to the fridge, opened the freezer, and grinned. Arden knew me well. The compartment was filled to the brim with frozen lasagna, bags of veggie stir-fry, and an array of other meals. But moving required one thing and one thing only.
Pizza.
Grabbing a veggie lover’s from the top of the stack, I read the instructions. Seemed simple enough. I crossed to the oven that looked older than the Backstreet Boys bop currently playing from the speakers. I turned the knob to bake and set it to four hundred and twenty-five degrees. I quickly cut the pie out of the plastic wrapping and set it on the rack, which had certainly seen some use over the years.
After making sure the preheat light flashed on, I headed for the stairs. While the lot for my rental was large, the house was fairly small. It had two bedrooms and one and a half baths, with a tiny living room and office downstairs. But it was all I needed and more—because it was mine.
I snagged a fresh change of clothes from my room and headed for the shower. Turning on the water, I peeled off what I’d been wearing and left it in a pile on the floor. A smile that probably looked more than a little unhinged spread across my face.
I could leave my clothes in that pile all week if I wanted to. There’d be no arched eyebrows or wrinkled forehead and look of disgust from Bradley. No sharply barked command from my father that no daughter of his would be a slob. I could pick them up whenever I damn well pleased.
And as if *NSYNC could read my mind, Bye Bye Bye came on the second I stepped into the shower, seeping up through the floorboards. I belted out the lyrics as I shampooed my hair and washed my face. By the time I was ready to turn off the water, I felt better than I had in years, maybe ever.
Quickly toweling off and getting the excess water out of my hair, I reached for my underwear and grinned. They were totally ridiculous. An impulse purchase at one of the big-box stores I’d hit up in preparation for my move. I was pretty sure they were a kids’ design, but I didn’t give a damn.
The rainbows decorating them reminded me of what I’d wanted to be back when I wasn’t afraid to reach for it. I pulled them on and then reached for my bralette. The lace was a creamy white, but I’d find some brighter ones. There was a small boutique in town that might carry some things. If not, I’d order online.
Before I could dream up what colors to buy, an angry beeping blared so loud it resembled a tornado warning.
Do they get tornados in Oregon?
I didn’t have the first clue, but I was already racing out of the bathroom. And that’s when I smelled it.
Smoke.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I raced down the stairs toward the kitchen. Smoke billowed out of the oven in angry waves, and I tried to remember if this was the sort of fire I could put out with water. I spun around, trying to see if there was a fire extinguisher or a pitcher of some kind, as the blaring warred with the nineties pop.
I swore I heard something else, too. A banging. But I was too worried about potentially blowing myself up to seek out the source.
I should have.
Because I was frantically opening cabinets one second, and the next, a dark god of fury was striding into my kitchen. I gaped as the man hauled open the oven and sprayed something inside to douse the flames.
As he straightened, I took in the details I couldn’t grasp before. Dark hair still damp from a shower. Green eyes like the hues found deep in the forest. Scruff dotting a jaw so sharp it could cut glass. And a worn Mercer County Sheriff T-shirt, the kind that was perfect for sleeping in.
“Trace?”