38. Danger
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
danger
I didn’t grow up around nights like this.
No shouting.
No broken glass.
No waiting for the next bad thing to happen.
Just people sitting around a fire, with nowhere else they need to be.
String lights zigzag across the back patio, throwing a warm glow over everything. The kind of light that makes it feel like the world shrunk down to just this little circle of land and the people in it.
Fisher’s perched on the edge of the deck, picking at a blister on his palm. His boots dangle over the side, heels tapping out some kind of rhythm against the wood.
Winnie crosses the yard with a paper plate balanced in one hand. She plucks a grape from the edge, pops it into her mouth, then holds another one toward me. I lean forward and catch the grape between my teeth. She smiles like she knew I would.
Charming watches the whole thing with a grin. "Baby birds, huh?"
Winnie laughs. "You mean lovebirds?"
"No." Charming points at me. "He knows what I mean."
I roll my eyes. "Don't start."
"Oh, I'm just getting started." His gaze drops to my wrist. "Hold up."
Winnie looks down. "What?"
"Are you wearing a charm bracelet?"
Winnie beams. "He got me this bracelet so I made him one, too."
She holds out her wrist, the silver charm catches the patio light. Charming reads hers, then reaches for my wrist before I can pull it away. He moves the beads around.
"'Boyfriend,'" he reads aloud, then stares at me with a straight face before barking out a laugh.
Winnie's smile somehow gets even bigger. "He hasn’t taken it off since we made it official."
"I'll be damned." Charming shakes his head.
"What?" I ask.
"You."
"What about me?"
"I spent my whole life thinking nobody was ever gonna tame you."
"I ain't tamed."
Winnie slides her hand into mine. "No," she says, smiling up at me. "Just domesticated now."
"And I hear you've been cleaning out Grandma's old bookstore." Charming says.
I glance at Winnie. "Word travels fast."
Winnie bites back a grin. "We might have a few ideas to bring it back to life."
"That's how it starts." He nods toward Trouble and Sawyer. "Next thing you know, you'll be just like them."
His gaze shifts to Trouble, who sits in a lawn chair like it's a damn throne, Sawyer sideways across his lap like she owns the place. She's deep into wedding-planning mode.
"Can everyone stop planning secret projects until after my wedding? I’m serious. I’ve got four caterers, two florists, a lighting designer, and”—she pauses to admire the rock on her finger—“an intimacy coordinator.”
I lower the bottle from my mouth.
“A what now?”
She smooths a wrinkle from Trouble’s shirt like she’s already practicing being a wife. “Our first kiss has to be photo perfect. There will be drones.”
Trouble groans. Fisher snorts.
Winnie laughs and slips inside the house, probably to grab another drink.
After a few minutes the fire pops and everyone settles back into their chairs.
Then I realize it’s too quiet.
I glance toward the house. The back door is still cracked open. And Winnie hasn’t come back out.
I set the bottle down and go after her.
Inside, the lights are dim. Just the blue glow from the stove clock lights the kitchen. But the front door is wide open.
I step onto the porch just in time to see Winnie standing, staring out toward the far fence line. I walk up behind her and slide my arms around her waist.
She jumps a little, then relaxes back against me.
Her voice drops to a whisper. “Tell me you see that.”
I follow her gaze. At first there’s nothing but darkness. Then I hear it. Hooves. Slow. Careful. Like someone trying real hard not to be heard.
A rider moves along the narrow path near the creek, keeping to the shadows. Even from here I know who it is by the way he sits on a horse. Know the shape of those shoulders.
My jaw tightens.
Across the creek someone’s already waiting. A woman, blonde hair pulled into a braid down her back, arms crossed, weight tipped onto one hip like she’s about to tell someone off.
The rider dismounts. They don’t touch. Don’t shake hands. But they step close enough that their boots nearly touch, heads tipped toward each other.
“Is that your brother?” Winnie whispers.
My teeth grind together.
“Yeah,” I say finally.
She studies the woman across the creek. “Who’s she?”
I stare at the braid. At the posture. At the last woman on earth anyone in this county should be meeting in the dark.
"That woman?" My grip tightens around Winnie. "She's a Kennedy. Youngest one. Only girl."
Winnie blinks. "That's her? I haven't seen her since before she left for college."
I watch my brother standing there in the moonlight with the enemy.
“That’s her. And this whole time,” I say slowly, “I thought we were already in a war.” My eyes stay on the two of them way too close across the creek.
“But that?” My jaw tightens. “That’s how you start a whole new one.”