Chapter 17
Sawyer
The Pine Hollows Public Library looks different tonight—warmer somehow, with string lights casting a golden glow over the normally quiet space. Folding chairs are arranged in neat rows, and the smell of coffee from the refreshment table mingles with the familiar scent of old books.
I’m early, which gives me time to browse the author’s display table and wonder if this was a good idea.
When I suggested the library event to Alice, it felt natural—she loves books, there’s an author in town, easy conversation starter.
But now, standing here while mostly women in their forties and fifties filter in, I’m second-guessing myself.
What am I doing here? I haven’t read a book since the academy, and even then it was only procedure manuals.
The front doors open and she hurries in, slightly out of breath and looking apologetic. She's wearing a soft blue sweater that brings out her eyes, and her dark hair is pulled back. She looks beautiful. Her glasses catch the string lights as she glances around the room, searching for me.
“Sorry,” she says, pulling off her jacket while adjusting her glasses—that nervous gesture I’m starting to recognize. “Last-minute banking emergency.”
“Let me guess. Someone forgot their PIN and found some way to blame it on you?”
“Actually no. Someone insisted we were holding their money hostage because their account was overdrawn.” She pushes her glasses up her nose again. “How long have you been here?”
“Just a few minutes. I was starting to think you’d stood me up for a book.”
Her cheeks turn slightly pink, and I realize this feels more like a date than I expected it to. Good. That’s exactly what I was hoping for.
We drift over to the book display, and I watch her examine the novels carefully.
There’s something about her focus that draws me in—the way she handles each book like she’s greeting an old friend, running her fingers along the spines with genuine reverence.
When’s the last time I cared about anything besides work?
“Have you read any of her other work?” I ask.
“No, but I’ve heard good things. Contemporary fiction isn’t usually my go-to, but I’m trying to branch out more.” She looks up at me, and I get caught staring at how the library lights make her eyes look almost amber behind her glasses. “What about you? Do you read?”
“Honestly? No. I don’t really have the time lately with work and studying for the sergeant exam.” There it is again. Everything always comes back to work. I pause. “Maybe I should give it a try.”
“You should. Reading’s good for stress relief.” Her enthusiasm makes her face light up in a way that does something to my chest. "It’s like watching a whole movie in your mind, and you get to imagine the characters however you want."
“Is that your professional opinion, Alicat?”
Her laugh makes me glad I suggested this. “That’s my personal experience talking. Though I probably read too much. Madison says I use books to avoid real life.”
“And do you?”
“Sometimes.” She fidgets with her glasses again, and I notice she does this whenever she’s admitting something she thinks might be wrong. “Is that bad?”
“Not at all. We work highly stressful jobs. If we didn’t have ways to decompress, we’d lose our minds.”
The library director taps the microphone, and we find seats in the third row.
Alice settles beside me, and I catch myself watching her more than listening to the author.
She’s completely absorbed in the reading, her expression changing with each twist in the story excerpt.
When’s the last time I was that present in a moment that wasn’t about solving someone else’s problems?
“She’s good,” I murmur during a pause.
“Really good. I’m definitely buying this.”
The Q&A session begins, and I’m half-listening to questions about the writing process when I notice Alice tense beside me. Her entire posture changes—shoulders pulling up, hands gripping the arms of her chair, glasses sliding down as she ducks her head slightly.
“Ali?” I keep my voice low. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thought I saw someone I knew.” But her breathing has quickened, and she’s scanning the room like she’s looking for an exit.
I follow her gaze toward the back of the room and spot a man in expensive casual clothes, scanning the crowd with predatory focus. His dirty blonde hair is perfectly styled like he prepped specifically for this event. When his eyes find Alice, he smiles, but something about it makes my jaw clench.
The event ends, and people begin to move around. I’m hoping we can slip out quietly, but the man moves through the crowd with purpose, heading straight for us like a missile locked on target.
I'm cataloging details without meaning to—exits, crowd size, who's paying attention to what. Old habits. Even on a date, I can't fully turn off the cop brain.
“Alice.” He says her name like he owns it, like he has every right to be here.
“Lance.” Her voice is carefully neutral, but I can hear the tremor underneath.
If I wasn’t standing right beside her, I wouldn’t have caught the name. Whoever this guy is, Alice clearly doesn’t want him here, and that’s enough for me. My job is to protect people. Right now, that includes her.
I step slightly closer to Alice, close enough that our shoulders almost touch. She’s holding herself like she’s bracing for impact.
“I’ve been trying to get more involved in local cultural events.
Expanding my horizons, you know.” His gaze shifts to me, looking me up and down like he’s cataloging weaknesses.
“And you must be the new boyfriend.” Every instinct I have is screaming that this guy is dangerous.
Not just annoying ex dangerous. Genuinely threatening.
New boyfriend? How the hell does he know anything about Alice's life?
“Sawyer Edwards,” I say, extending my hand while stepping even closer to Alice.
“Lance Carlston. Alice and I have quite a history together.” He shakes my hand with unnecessary force but keeps his eyes on Alice like I’m not even here. “Don’t we, Alice?”
“We used to date,” she says simply, but every line of her body screams that she wants this conversation to end. She pushes her glasses up her nose again.
That explains the tension, but not why he's here or how he knows where she lives.
“Used to,” Lance repeats, like the words amuse him. He glances around the library with calculated casualness. “Funny how you ended up in a place like this, Alice. You always did love those old buildings with character. Like your grandmother's place on Maple Street.”
It takes everything in me not to step between them. Not to tell this asshole to get the hell away from her. But Alice needs to handle this her way. My job is backup, not bulldozing in.
Alice goes completely still beside me. The comment sounds offhand, but the way Alice reacts tells me it’s anything but. There’s something deliberately invasive about it—like he’s letting her know he knows exactly where she lives. My fist clenches in the pocket of my jeans.
“I need to go,” Alice says, her voice barely steady.
“Oh, I’m thinking of sticking around Pine Hollows for a while. Really getting to know the community better.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and there’s a threat buried in the pleasant tone. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon.”
He walks away, and I memorize everything about him. Height, weight, build, and clothing. The way he moves like he owns every space he enters. The expensive watch on his wrist that doesn't match "getting involved in local cultural events."
This guy isn't here by accident.
“You okay?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
“Yeah,” she says, but her hands are shaking as she adjusts her glasses again. “It just… ended badly.”
Whatever happened between them, it was bad enough that she's terrified.
“You want to get out of here?”
She nods, relief flooding her face. I keep my hand on the small of her back as we move through the crowd toward the exit. She leans into the contact slightly, and I realize she’s not just shaken.
She’s scared.
Outside, she takes several deep breaths of the cool night air.
“Better?”
“Yeah. He just…catches me off guard sometimes.” She’s hugging the book against her chest like armor.
“How long since you two broke up?”
“Over a year.” Her voice is quiet, defeated. “He’s not supposed to be here. I mean, there’s no reason for him to be in Pine Hollows. He lives in Creeksprings.”
“But he seemed to know this town pretty well.”
I watch her face when I say it, and I see the moment she realizes I caught that detail too. Her eyes widen behind her glasses. “Yeah. I don’t know how.”
I do. He’s been watching you. The black SUV. The one that ran her off the road. I'd bet my badge that was him.
We walk to our cars in tense silence, but my mind is working overtime.
Ex-boyfriends don’t show up at random events in small towns they don’t live in.
They don’t casually mention their ex’s living situation or talk about sticking around to “get to know the community.” And they definitely don’t look at their exes like they still own them.
At her car, I stop. “Alice, if he’s bothering you—”
“He’s not. Not really.” The response comes too fast, too practiced. “It’s just awkward running into an ex, you know?”
I don’t buy it for a second, but pushing won’t get me answers tonight. She’s already spooked enough. “Okay. But if that changes—if he shows up again, if you feel unsafe, anything—you call me. I don’t care what time it is.”
“Thank you.” She’s fidgeting with her keys, still jumpy. “Rain check on that coffee? I feel like the mood got completely derailed.”
“Of course,” I wait until she looks at me. “This was still the best part of my week.”
A small smile finally breaks through her worry. “Mine too.”
I wait until she’s safely in her car and the engine starts before walking to my truck. As I follow her taillights at a careful distance—close enough to make sure she gets home safe, far enough not to seem like I’m following her the way Lance probably does.
I’m already planning my next move.
Tomorrow, I’m having Chris run Lance Carlston’s name through every database we have access to. Because whatever game he’s playing with Alice, it’s not over. And the way he looked at her tonight? Like she was something he’d lost and intended to reclaim?
That’s not how normal exes behave.
Lance Carlston just made a very big mistake. He showed up in my town, made Alice feel unsafe, and thought he could walk away without consequences. But what he doesn't know is that Alice isn't just some woman I'm interested in.
She’s under my protection now.
Whether she knows it or not