Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Tuesday evening painted Laurel Valley in shades of amber and rust, the October sun slanting through the mountains like it had all the time in the world.
Dylan stood before her bedroom mirror, second-guessing her third outfit change and wondering when she’d become the kind of person who cared what she wore to a business dinner.
The burgundy sweater won—soft cashmere that Sophie had talked her into buying last year, insisting everyone needed at least one piece of clothing that made them feel powerful.
Dylan had thought power came from competence, from skill, from being indispensable.
She was learning it might also come from the way fabric moved against skin, the way color brought out hidden warmth, the way choosing to look beautiful was its own kind of bravery.
Her phone buzzed. Aidan—Outside in five. We’re walking—Main Street’s too perfect tonight to waste.
Through her window, she could see him already waiting on the sidewalk below, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, head tilted back to study the sky like he was reading tomorrow’s weather in tonight’s clouds.
Something about the way he stood—patient, comfortable, unhurried—made her chest tight with a feeling she refused to name.
The stairs creaked under her feet, each sound familiar as her own heartbeat.
Five years of these stairs, but tonight they felt different.
Tonight she was descending toward something more than dinner, more than business, more than the safe boundaries she’d maintained since arriving in Laurel Valley with nothing but grief and a determination never to need anyone again.
“Hey,” Aidan said when she emerged, his smile warm as October sunlight. “You look—” He paused, seeming to catch himself. “Ready to make questionable business decisions?”
“The most questionable,” she agreed, falling into step beside him.