Chapter Three
Zara
A thousand miles later, I rolled down Main Street in Sugar Brush, Wyoming.
Everything looked the same...but smaller, like the town had shrunk while I’d been away.
The wide sidewalk still stretched beneath rows of storefronts, their windows gleaming in the late afternoon sun, polished to lure summer tourists inside.
Diagonal parking spots were mostly filled with dusty SUVs and trucks sporting out-of-state plates.
Sugar Brush wasn’t Cheyenne or Cody, but the hot springs and surrounding ranch land drew a steady trickle of visitors every year.
It was why I was here.
Snagging one of the last open parking spots, I cut the engine.
The silence rang in my ears, but relief sagged through me.
My lower back throbbed, my legs ached, and my brain felt like it had been rattled loose inside my skull.
Two days in a car would do that to a person.
Tomorrow morning, I’d report to the ranch.
Tonight, I planned to eat something hot and fall face-first into a motel bed.
But first, I needed to stretch my legs and remind myself I was human.
Pushing my sunglasses up my nose, I strolled along the sidewalk, peeking in windows and noting the changes. There were a couple cute boutiques that hadn’t been here when I was a teenager, but the five-and-dime was exactly the same.
The pink door of Sugar Rush Bakery was new. I peered inside, spotting my old friend, Phoebe Kelly, behind the counter, smiling at a customer.
Despite my bone-deep exhaustion, I couldn’t stop myself from going inside. I hadn’t seen Phoebe since my wedding, and…well, a lot had changed since then.
Her rich-brown eyes lit up as I made it up to the counter. “Zara! You’re here. What—oh my god.”
My lips trembled as I smiled. “Hey, you. I heard this is the place to get yummy sweets. What’s good?”
Ignoring the question completely, she darted around the counter and wrapped me in a fierce, sugar-laced hug. I closed my eyes as I sank into her, my body giving in to her comfort.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “I knew you were coming, but not today. It’s so good to see you, Z.”
Moisture gathered behind my eyelids, and I squeezed them shut to keep it there. “You too. I missed you.”
She pulled back, keeping me at arm’s length as she looked me over. “I wish I could say you look good, but you kinda look like death warmed over.”
A laugh burst out of me. “I feel that way. Two days in a car and barely sleeping in cheap motels will do that to a person.”
She grimaced. “Okay, no. We’re fixing that.
Do you still like tea and honey?” She steered me toward the pastry case, its shelves half full of croissants and muffins and glossy fruit tarts.
“Take whatever you want. Several things, actually. Deacon claims he’s getting a gut from being forced”—she made air quotes— “to eat my leftovers. You’ll be saving my poor husband. ”
I laughed. “I’m sure having to eat your baking is pure torture for him.”
She rolled her eyes. “It is. He just hates it.” Then she wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her warm, soft side and laying her head on top of mine. “Did I say how happy I am you’re here?”
“You implied it.” I closed my eyes, relishing her closeness. Phoebe was only a couple years older than me, but she reminded me of my mom in a lot of ways. Her gentle heart and never-ending kindness. Soft hugs and sweet nature. “I’m happy to be here.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized they were true. Sugar Brush, Wyoming, was supposed to be an escape from everything that had gone wrong, but now that I was standing in the town I’d loved as a kid, it hit me just how good it was to be here.
Maybe this really was what I needed to set it right and get back to myself.
Phoebe boxed up way too many pastries while one of her employees made me a cup of tea. Just as I was about to carry my goodies to a table, the bell over the door tinkled, and a rangy man with strawberry-blond hair walked in, a chubby toddler perched happily in his arms.
Phoebe abandoned me immediately, greeting them with kisses. I recognized Deacon Slater and little Abigail from photos, but seeing them in person made my chest ache. Deacon looked at Phoebe like she’d hung the moon, and Abigail’s toothy grin was pure joy.
Phoebe brought them over, introducing them to me. Abigail had the Kelly family brown eyes and her daddy’s rose-gold hair. She clung to Deacon, giving me a shy wave that made my heart skip.
“Nice to have you in town.” Deacon was gruff but sincere, and he held on to Abigail like she was the most precious thing in the world—besides Phoebe.
“I’m glad to be here and finally meet you guys. She’s even cuter in person. I can’t get over it.”
Phoebe sighed. “Isn’t she? Wait until you see Hannah’s kids, and Cay’s little squish.”
I shook my head. It was hard to believe wild Hannah Kelly was a mom of two and stoic Caleb Kelly had settled down, gotten married, and had a baby. Life had really moved on while I’d stagnated in a dysfunctional marriage and job that…
Well, we’d leave it at that.
I clutched my tea to my aching chest. “Your mom sends my mom pictures daily. She’s so jealous I get to hang out with the Kelly grandkids all summer.”
Phoebe poked my arm. “I know you’re going to be busy working, but you better make time to hang with me.”
“I will. Promise. I could use some girlfriend time.”
Her gaze flitted over me, so soft and concerned I had to look down at my steaming cup.
“I bet. I’m here to talk or distract or whatever. And if you need snuggle time, Abigail’s pretty amenable once you get to know her.”
That made me smile. “How could I refuse an offer like that?”
Phoebe had to wait on a few customers, so I said my goodbyes to Deacon and Abigail and carried my tea and pastries down Main Street.
As Gray’s Diner came into view, my stomach rumbled.
Living off gas station junk and fast food the last few days, a real, hot dinner was exactly what I needed before I passed out in my motel room.
I pulled open the door and went inside. The smell of french fries and onions hit me with a wave of nostalgia, sending me back a couple steps. I could almost picture Phoebe and me sitting at the counter, sipping milkshakes, giggling over boys.
I turned my head, finding the corner booth where I’d spent hours with Cormac, trading comic books and telling each other our secrets.
Not every secret, though. Some I’d kept to myself.
And right up until the night before my wedding, I’d wondered how things would have turned out if I hadn’t. That was when every question I’d ever had was answered. Cormac Kelly had once been my best friend, but I’d never been his. That much I knew to be true.
I forced my gaze away from the booth before I could spiral into the melancholy I’d left in Oregon, scanning the other side of the diner.
Everything stopped.
My heart. Time. The earth.
As if conjuring him with my thoughts, my eyes landed on the man I’d been trying to shove out of my mind.
Even worse, he looked incredible. The sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt were rolled up, a few buttons at his collar left undone, exposing the golden skin of his throat.
His wavy hair was longer now, darker in the low light, and his smile was easy as he laughed at something the woman across from him said.
My mouth was desert-dry, and my tongue was too big to do any kind of swallowing. The air around me grew suffocatingly hot, and my pulse rushed in my ears. I shouldn’t have felt this…this panic. It didn’t make sense. I’d washed my hands of this man and the way he’d made me feel a long time ago.
Had it really only been three years since he’d sat at the back of the chapel, watching me marry Jackson—since he’d tried to talk him out of marrying me? If only Jackson had listened…
A tap on my shoulder made me flinch.
“Table for one?” a teenage waitress asked, menus stacked in her arms.
“No,” I blurted. “Sorry. I can’t stay.”
She shrugged, already turning away.
What was I doing? I had to get myself together. I couldn’t have a panic attack every time I saw Cormac. Chances were it was going to happen quite a bit this summer. We wouldn’t be working together directly, but we’d both be on the ranch and in this town.
That didn’t mean it had to happen this very second.
I pulled in a breath and headed for the exit, taking one last look at Cormac—which turned out to be a fatal error. His pale-blue eyes clashed with mine, flaring with what looked a lot like shock. I tripped over my own feet and stumbled, nearly dropping my box from Sugar Rush.
I righted myself just in time, clutching the pink box carefully. Then heat rushed up my neck, and another wave of panic shot through me.
Cormac was halfway out of his booth.
Nope.
Absolutely not. I was not ready for that.
I yanked the door open and burst out onto Main Street, the bell jangling behind me. My sandals slapped against the sidewalk, my heart hammering like I was fleeing a crime scene instead of a man I hadn’t spoken to in years.
Get it together, Zara.
I didn’t stop until I reached my car and slid into the driver’s seat. Then…I just sat there, forehead resting against the steering wheel, breathing like I’d run a mile.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing his image out of my mind. The way his eyes had gone wide. The way his body had instinctively moved toward me. The fact that, even now, some traitorous part of me had taken note of the breadth of his shoulders and how stupidly gorgeous he’d grown to be.
I straightened, forcing my pulse to slow. I was tired. Emotionally wrung out after too much nostalgia and not enough sleep. Of course, seeing Cormac Kelly—Cormac of my childhood, Cormac of every “almost”—had rattled me.
Anyone would’ve been thrown.
But I wasn’t that girl anymore, and that wasn’t why I was here. I wasn’t eighteen and tangled up in what-ifs. I wasn’t twenty-three, making the worst mistake of my life. I was here to work, reset…breathe again.
Next time I ran into him, I’d be ready. I’d smile politely. Say hello like he was any other person from my past—not the ghost of the life I’d never gotten to live.
I wouldn’t trip.
I wouldn’t bolt.
I definitely wouldn’t panic.