Chapter 26
Eric
Harmony slept curled against me for most of the night but it wasn’t deep or peaceful. Every time she shifted or her breath hitched, I woke up. My body stayed wired, waiting for a sound that didn’t belong, a shadow at the window, a vibration from my phone.
Nothing came.
Thankfully.
But the absence of danger didn’t settle me.
It only made me more aware that whoever sent that photo knew how to wait.
By sunrise, Harmony was still tucked under my arm, her cheek pressed against my chest. For a moment, I just watched her breathe.
Her eyelashes were smudged from fatigue, her hair tangled from sleep and stress, but she looked softer like this. Fragile and fierce all at once.
When she stirred, I whispered, “Morning.”
She blinked up at me, disoriented. Then her eyes widened a little as memory returned. “I’m still here.” Her smile was soft and real.
“Good,” I said. “Stay a little longer.”
She didn’t argue. That told me more about her state than anything else.
I brushed a hand through her hair and forced myself to pull away.
“I need to make a few calls. And I have to check on the bakery then the brewery. Dominic and Cooper texted me twice already to check in. I promised Phoenix I would,” I explained, since Phoenix and Elyna were in Europe on their honeymoon with Braden.
She sat up slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pull you away from your duties.”
“You didn’t pull me from anything,” I said firmly. “This house is yours as long as you need it.”
Her gaze softened, but the worry lingered. “I should let Sandy know I’m not coming into Petals and Pines.”
“Text her. She’ll understand.”
“She’s my boss,” she whispered.
“She’s also family,” I reminded her. “Tell her you’re not feeling well. She’ll probably bring half her flower shop to the house if you let her.”
A small, shaky smile appeared. “That sounds like her.”
I stood and stretched. “I’ll make breakfast. Then I have to head out for a few hours.”
Her expression dimmed. “Should I come with you?”
Every instinct screamed yes. Keep her close. Keep her where I can see her.
But she needed normalcy too. “You can stay here,” I said gently. “Or… if you feel up to it, go to the community center for a shift. Sometimes being around the kids helps.”
Harmony looked down at her hands. “I don’t want them to see me like this.”
“You’re holding up well. They may help take your mind off things,” I suggested.
She hesitated, shoulders rising and falling in a slow breath. “Maybe… maybe being there will help. They’ve been through so much. I don’t want to hide from them.”
A warm ache pressed in my chest. “Then go. I’ll pick you up after.”
A soft knock sounded from the hallway. Not the front door. The hallway. My muscles tightened on instinct.
“It’s okay,” I murmured. “That’ll be Becket.”
I crossed the room and cracked the door open. Harmony stayed on the edge of the bed behind me. Even without looking, I could feel her tension like a shift in the air. Becket stood in the hall holding two coffees, hair still damp from an early shower, his police jacket half-zipped.
“Everything quiet overnight?” he asked, his voice low.
“Quiet,” I said. “Too quiet.”
He handed me one of the coffees. “We need to talk.”
I stepped into the hall and pulled the door mostly shut behind me, leaving Harmony privacy but not isolation. If she needed to hear my voice, she would.
Becket lowered his tone further. “I ran that ghost account she mentioned by the provincial police and RCMP. There’s a provincial organized-crime analyst I stay in touch with. She said something pinged late last night, just enough to matter. We need to go over it.”
A cold coil tightened in my stomach. Harmony must have sensed the shift because the latch clicked softly, and she stepped out to join us. She looked pale but steady.
“She’s going to the center today,” I said before Becket could question it.
Becket studied her a moment. “Is that safe?”
“It’s public,” I said. “Cameras everywhere. Staff all day.”
He considered this, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll put a cruiser on rotation. Every thirty minutes.”
Harmony swallowed. “Thank you.”
His expression softened just a little. “Phoenix and Elyna landed in Paris this morning. Dad said they’ll be moving through Italy and Greece next. They won’t be back for a while.”
Harmony let out a shaky breath. “Good. I don’t want them in danger.”
“None of us do,” Becket said quietly. Then he turned to me. “When you get to the bakery, check the external feed. Something triggered a motion alert around 4:00 a.m.”
A cold sweep moved through my chest. “Outside or inside?”
“Outside,” he said. “Near the orchard fence.”
Harmony’s breath hitched. “Where the photo was taken…”
Becket nodded once. “Could be the wind. Could be an animal. But check it.”
“I will,” I confirmed.
He shifted into work mode again. “I’ll be at the station. Call if anything changes. Keep her close.”
I shut the door gently and turned back into the room. Harmony stood in the center, looking small and strong at the same time, like someone holding herself together with sheer will.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No,” she whispered. “But I will be.”
I moved closer, careful not to overwhelm her. “I’ll drop you at the center before I go to the bakery. Stay inside. Stay where there are people. And text me if anything feels wrong.”
She nodded, and for the first time that morning, there was something new in her expression. Not fear.
Resolve.
We both got dressed together to get ready for the day, it all felt so normal and natural, except for the small fact there was danger close by.
“Ready?” I asked.
She drew in a breath. “Yes.”
We stepped into the hallway together. For a brief moment, as she fell into step beside me, it felt like whatever was coming next, we were walking toward it side by side. Before the week was over, I would learn just how wrong and how right that feeling was.