Chapter 16
sixteen
. . .
SUTTON
When I walked into the kitchen one Friday morning, my feet were dragging after a particularly long, hellacious shift the night before.
I hated working on fire victims.
Lane was already there, and he handed me a cup of something warm. I dropped my bag unceremoniously on the floor, climbed onto one of the high-backed chairs at the island, and cupped it between my hands, allowing the warmth to ease my frayed nerves.
“Rough night?”
“House fire,” I explained. As the sheriff, he probably already knew about it, but I hadn’t seen him at the scene. Johns had been there instead. “Mom and two kids got away with minor smoke inhalation, but the dad suffered some pretty extensive burns.”
“I’m sorry, Sutton.”
I merely nodded, eyes falling closed. I needed a few hours of sleep to get myself back on track.
Lifting the mug to my lips, its scent wafted up to my nose, and I realized it wasn’t coffee. The mug dropped back to the counter with a thunk, some of the hot, golden liquid spilling over the side. I blinked up at Lane.
“Did you make me tea?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t think coffee was smart when you’re about to go to bed. It’s just this vanilla chamomile blend my mom swears by. Thought it might help you sleep.”
I had nothing to say to that, no response that didn’t make me sound like an epic simp, so I filled my mouth with a sip. It was fragrant, soft and floral while also layered with something sweet.
“Is there honey in this too?”
Lane nodded. “Mama’s homemade honey, to be exact.”
Shaking my head, I chuckled. “Your family is so impressive.”
“Speaking of,” he started. “Trey’s team is playing in the state championship game up in Boise tomorrow, right?”
“Yes…”
I might’ve been caught up in my own shit, but I didn’t live under a rock. Dusk Valley High was my alma mater too, and it was impossible to miss the “GO SPUDS” posters and general uptick in school spirit all over town.
Trey had been the head coach of the team for a few years now, and this season was the best they’d had since Owen and he had led the Spuds to back-to-back state championships in their respective senior seasons.
“Well, Mama got it into her head to host a big tailgate party at the ranch tonight. The entire town is invited. There will be food, drinks, and music. Would you want to come with me?”
“As roommates, right? Maybe…friends?”
I didn’t know why I felt the need to qualify it, to downplay the connection between us.
Lane blinked slowly, seeming to weigh his response, then said, “Sure. As friends.” Clearing his throat, he added, “I just can’t in good conscience let you sit here alone with your Kindle and your cat while the rest of the town is partying.”
“Hey! I love my Kindle and my cat.”
My roommate or friend or whatever grinned. “I know you do, but getting out of the house will be good for you.”
Honestly, getting out of this house for a reason other than work was more than a little appealing. Plus, if the whole town was going to be there, I wouldn’t have to suffer the awkwardness of being in the company of only the Lawless family all night.
“Okay,” I agreed.
Lane grinned, rapping his knuckles on the counter happily. “Great! We’ll head over there around four. I promised Mama I’d help set up tables and chairs in the barn.”
“Sounds good,” I said, then got to my feet. “I’m gonna head to bed now.”
“Right! See you later, then.”
“Yep, later.”
Lane hadn’t been lying when he said Birdie invited the entire town. Though Dusk Valley was small, with fewer than two thousand year-round residents, the community showed up for each other in a big way.
And the Spuds about to play in their first state championship game in nearly twenty years was a big deal.
Lane and I parted ways when we arrived, before the masses had descended.
He’d gone to the barn to help his brothers and the ranch hands set up the tables and chairs, and erect the tent as promised.
I’d headed into the big house, where I’d found Birdie, Aspen, and Reagan in the kitchen, up to their elbows in prep.
Without a word, I’d jumped into the fray, helping where I could.
Birdie had spared no expense on the food.
I wondered how long she’d spent slaving over the vats of Sloppy Joe mix, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes; bowls of pasta salads; fruit and veggie trays; and seemingly endless trays of desserts.
Behind the long buffet tables, one of the ranch hands expertly flipped burgers and rotated hot dogs.
The barn was decorated within an inch of its life, streams, balloons, and banners in the school’s colors of orange and brown hanging from the rafters and walls.
Long tables had been set up in the middle of the grand space, spilling out under a tent outside, all of it lined with heaters to keep away the late November chill.
I was grateful Lane convinced me to wear a beanie and mittens.
We’d reached that point in the fall where snow could fly any day, and without the extra layers, I would’ve had popsicles for fingers.
As I filled a plate with food, trailing behind Aspen and Reagan in the buffet line, I couldn’t help surreptitiously searching the crowd for Lane, but I didn’t see him.
It seemed like everyone from town was here, though.
Players and parents and extended families, of course, but also the entire sheriff’s department, my fire department colleagues—even the ones on shift; I saw the rigs out in the yard, which served as a makeshift parking lot—school staff, and small business owners like Bonnie from the diner and Benny from the Swallow.
Aspen, Reagan, and I set up at the end of a table where we managed to locate three seats together. We ate in amicable silence, all three of us content to bask in the cacophony around us.
That was, of course, until they turned their attention on me perfectly in sync, almost like they’d planned it beforehand.
I paused with a forkful of mac and cheese halfway to my mouth, my brows drawing together.
“What? Do I have something on my face?”
Reagan shook her head, though a small smile appeared on her lips, like she was in on a secret that eluded me.
I didn’t know Reagan Lindsey all that well. When she first arrived in town last spring, I’d been avoiding anything to do with the Lawless family at all costs, and she was wrapped tight in their embrace from the moment she got here thanks to her previous relationship with Finn.
Now, they were happily living together and deeply in love, but I hadn’t been given much opportunity to spend time with her.
Aspen, on the other hand, I knew quite well since she was married to Crew and made frequent stops at the firehouse when we were on shift. She was a badass in the body of a little pixie, an incredibly efficient private investigator, and a best-selling author.
Thanks to their relationships with two of the Lawless brothers, it made sense the two of them had grown close.
And now, they were looking at me like they wanted me to join their little club.
“How’s living with Lane?” Aspen asked.
Ahh, so that’s what this is about.
“Fine,” I said noncommittally, although it wasn’t a lie. It was fine, and coming home to somewhere I felt safe after my own had been violated was a luxury.
Reagan groaned. “C’mon, Sutton. You have to give us more than that. Especially after the”—she leaned closer, dropping her voice to a whisper—“love confession.”
I laughed at her unnecessary attempt at stealth. “There’s nothing more to say. He works, I work. Sometimes when our schedules align, we’ll have dinner together. Mostly, we keep to ourselves.”
“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Aspen grumbled.
“Why? Do you guys want something to happen between us?”
Honestly, I wanted that, but I was afraid to go after it.
They shared a look I couldn’t quite decipher, then both leaned forward conspiratorially, like they didn’t want to be overheard. An impossibility given the crowd gathered, but I mirrored them.
“We kind of hate Addie.”
I snorted, which lodged a noodle in my throat that I had to launch into a coughing fit to expel. Once I’d gathered myself, I croaked out, “You don’t even know her.”
“We know enough,” Aspen said. “She’s been a big help on some squirrely cases, I’m not denying that. But there’s something about her that just rubs me the wrong way.”
In Aspen’s line of work, reading people was a big piece of what made her so damn good at her job. If she had reservations about Addie, maybe there was a reason to be wary of her.
Truthfully, I wasn’t Addie’s biggest fan either, but for reasons that weren’t exactly altruistic.
I wanted Lane, but so did she.
“So I’m the lesser of two evils.”
“You’re not evil at all,” Aspen said with an eye roll. “You’re good people, Sutton.”
Reagan reached across the table, giving my hand a quick squeeze. “The best, actually.”
She and her sister had gone through an ordeal over the summer, and I’d been there in the aftermath, making sure they were taking care of themselves. While I’d been avoiding Lane, I made frequent stops at Finn’s to check on Reagan and her twin, Lainey.
Before I could formulate a response, Aspen’s attention snapped to something over my shoulder.
“You have to be fucking kidding me.”
Reagan followed her gaze, eyes widening. “Speak of the fucking devil.”
“What is she doing here?” Aspen hissed.
I had a bad feeling I knew who she was.
Slowly, I turned my head, eyes probing in the general direction of where Reagan and Aspen were looking.
Sure enough, Addie Caldwell stood there, wrapping Birdie in a hug.
As if drawn like a magnet, Lane appeared at his mom’s side, but I noted with no small amount of satisfaction that he didn’t reach for Addie. His hands remained firmly in the pockets of his flannel jacket. His body language suggested he wasn’t happy about this development.
When I glanced back at Aspen and Reagan, the former was already getting to her feet.
“C’mon. Let’s go see what this is about.”