Elias
The grocery store wasn't much to look at.
One automatic door that only opened when it felt like it, three squeaky shopping carts, and fluorescent lights that hummed with enough enthusiasm to qualify as white noise.
If Blackridge ever made the news, it certainly wouldn't be because of its shopping experience.
I grabbed a basket instead of a cart. I wasn't planning on staying long.
Bread. Eggs. Coffee. Dog food. The essentials. Max had already made it abundantly clear that if I forgot his treats again, he'd consider it a personal betrayal.
I turned down the cereal aisle. Half the shelves were filled with boxes covered in words I didn't understand. Gluten-free. Sugar-free. Organic. Plant-based. I picked up a box, frowned at the ingredients, and put it back.
"Who the fuck voluntarily eats this stuff?"
Nobody answered. Probably for the best. The bakery section was worse. Gluten-free bread. Cauliflower pizza crust. Vegan cheese. I stared at the shelf and grimaced.
"That can't be fucking legal."
An elderly woman reaching for oat milk looked at me over the rim of her glasses. "I heard that."
"I wasn't exactly whispering."
She huffed and pushed her trolley away. I smiled to myself before continuing toward the coffee aisle.
Now... this was more like it. Dark roast. Medium roast. Whole bean. Ground. French roast. Hazelnuts. The familiar scent of roasted coffee drifted through the aisle, rich and warm enough to make the entire store feel less sterile.
For some reason... my mind wandered not to the coffee. To her.
Seraphina.
She'd stood in my kitchen earlier this week as though she'd lived there for years, talking enough for both of us while somehow making the silence feel...
comfortable. The faint scent of vanilla and rose lingered in my memory, mixed with fresh coffee and the crisp morning air she'd carried in from outside.
She smiled a lot, talked too much and asked too many questions but somehow... I hadn't minded. At all. In fact, it was becoming a dangerous habit, the way my thoughts kept drifting back to her the moment my hands were empty.
I picked up a bag of dark roast without really looking at the label. The corner of my mouth twitched.
"You're losing it, Reed."
A shoulder slammed into mine. The coffee nearly slipped from my hand.
"Sorry, man."
I looked up. Deputy Collins.
He shoved both hands into the pockets of his jacket, wearing the same smug grin that usually meant he was about to say something I didn't care to hear. Collins was one of those local boys who thought a uniform meant he owned the county lines. He’d been an arrogant prick since I got here, and getting hired by Sheriff Walker hadn't done anything to curb his vanity.
Collins was just his irritating little shadow.
"Damn," Collins chuckled, breaking the silence. "Thought you'd packed up and left town already."
I stared at him. Cold and hard I let the silence stretch between us, heavy and unyielding, until his grin began to look a little brittle at the edges.
He laughed awkwardly, shifting his weight under my gaze. "You know..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...Missing people don't exactly have a habit of turning up around here."
The Fuck Did Just Idiot Say. Silence. The smile completely slipped from his face as he finally felt the dangerous shift in the vibe.
"...Right," he cleared his throat, his posture stiffening. "I'll... uh... catch you later."
Without another word, he turned on his heel and disappeared around the next aisle. I watched him go, the irritation thrumming through my veins.
"Little fucker."
I tossed the coffee into my basket and kept walking, heading toward the pharmacy section to grab some basic supplies. My boots dragged against the floor flooring as I rounded the corner, and my eyes dropped to an end-cap display.
Condoms. Three different varieties in bright boxes.
I froze. For a moment, my mind didn't just wander; it plunged headfirst off a fucking cliff.
I thought of Seraphina not the casual way she looked sitting at my kitchen table, but the way she’d look twisted up in my sheets.
The mental image hit me like a physical punch to the gut, her pale skin flushed, her breath hitching as my hands gently pinned her wrists against the mattress.
I imagined the weight of my body sinking into hers, the intense heat of her skin, and the small, desperate sound she’d make if I leaned down and bit the soft curve where her neck met her shoulder.
A sharp, tight ache flared in my groin. My throat went completely dry.
I closed my eyes, took a slow, grounding breath through my nose, and violently shook my head to clear the heat from my skull.
Get a fucking grip, Reed. She was too fucking young for me, she was tied to a mess of a fucking town, and I was behaving like a teenager with too much time on his hands.
I walked straight past the display without looking back, paid for my items and headed for the door, every step calm and deliberate.
Before heading home, I needed to get more clothes. My rotation of work shirts was down to nothing, and my favourite heavy jersey, the dark charcoal grey wool one from my academy days was completely missing. I drove the truck three blocks down to the dry goods store.
As I sifted through the charcoal button-downs, my mind went back to that missing jersey. My mind wandered back to my kitchen.
She'd looked entirely too comfortable standing there, sunlight spilling through the window and catching in the loose waves of her dark hair.
One sleeve of her sweater had slipped over her hand as she reached for the coffee mugs, and she'd kept blowing the same stubborn strand of hair away from her face instead of tucking it behind her ear.
She talked the entire time about coffee, Blackridge, dogs, and absolutely nothing moving around the kitchen as though she'd lived there for years.
Every now and then she'd glance over her shoulder with that crooked little smile, the one that made it seem as though she'd just let me in on a joke only she understood.
Somehow… The kitchen had felt less empty with her in it.
Standing in the shop now, I realized I wanted her to wear my things and have my jerseys.
I liked the territorial feeling that came with the thought of her wrapping herself in something that belonged to me when the nights grew cold.
Fuck I was going insane. I grabbed three new shirts, paid, and left.
The drive back up the valley road was uneventful.
My cottage sat at the very end of the gravel track.
Seraphina's was only a few steps away. As I reached her driveway, my foot eased onto the brake before I'd consciously decided to stop.
I stared at her front porch for a moment.
I pulled into the small dirt turnout, killed the engine, and climbed out.
The afternoon breeze stirred the wind chimes hanging beneath the porch roof as I stepped onto the weathered boards.
Before I could knock, a familiar voice drifted through the slightly open kitchen window.
"No, Gerald, you absolutely cannot put that there."
A pause.
"Frank, don't encourage him."
Another pause.
"I'm serious. If one more coffee mug mysteriously disappears, I'm blaming both of you."
Silence. Then…
"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly what you did."
I frowned. Was... Was she talking to herself? Or did she have someone over?
A small smirk tugged at my mouth. I rapped my knuckles against the wooden doorframe.
The muttering stopped instantly. Bare feet thudded against the floorboards, and the heavy oak door swung inward.
Seraphina stood there. She was wearing an oversized white button-down shirt that hung loosely off one shoulder, exposing a pale stretch of skin and the delicate curve of her collarbone.
Her dark hair was pinned back haphazardly, a few wild strands framing her face.
The moment she saw my face through the screen, her whole expression lit up with a radiant, genuine smile.
"Honey, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice bright and warm.
The word honey hit me like a physical blow to the chest. My heart did a sudden, violent roll. For the first time in my life, I stuttered, my throat closing up. My hands felt entirely too big for my pockets. "I... uh, I was just down at the store. Got some groceries."
She tilted her head, her dark eyes tracking the sudden tension in my jaw. A small, knowing amusement curved her lips. "Did you come all the way up the hill just to show me your vegetables, Elias?"
"No," I said, finally forcing my voice into its normal register and leaning my arm against the doorframe, bringing myself a little closer to the screen. "I was wondering... if you were free for dinner tonight? At my place."
She happily agreed without a second of hesitation. "I’d love to. What time?"
"Any time after six," I said, my gaze dropping to her mouth for a fraction of a second before lifting back to her eyes. "I’ll be ready."
"I’ll be there," she said softly, her tone dipping into something lower, a little more intimate.
We just stood there, staring at each other through the thin wire mesh.
The silence between us was suddenly thick, warm, and electric, heavy with the unsaid things stretching between the space of a few inches.
I could see the pulse jumping at the base of her throat.
I cleared my throat before I did something entirely reckless, like tearing the door open.
"Be safe," I said.
She chuckled, a low, melodic sound that stirred the air. "I’m just walking a few steps, Honey. I think I’ll survive."
"Just... be safe."
I climbed back into my truck, my hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary and drove the short distance home. I carried the paper grocery bags into my dark kitchen and started unpacking the items: the milk, the butter, the thick, heavy ribeye steaks...
I froze with a steak in my hand.
Fuck.
The gluten-free boxes. The cauliflower crusts. The vegan cheese I’d just seen at the store. What if she didn't eat meat? I didn't know. What if she looked at these ribeye’s like a crime scene?
I dropped the meat onto the counter, turned around, and ran out the back door.
I didn't even take the truck; I just ran back to her property, my lungs burning in the cool mountain air, driven by a sudden, frantic need to fix it.
I arrived at her porch completely breathless, my chest heaving, and slammed my hand against the screen door.
The oak door opened almost immediately, as if she hadn't moved from the spot.
Seraphina stood there, looking at my wild eyes, my messy hair, and the way my chest was pumping for air. Her eyes swept down my frame before coming back up to meet my gaze, and she burst into a loud, clear laugh.
"Back so soon?" she teased, leaning her shoulder heavily against the frame, the loose collar of her shirt dipping just a fraction lower. "An invitation is given, Elias. No take-backsies."
I let out a rough, breathless laugh of my own, placing my hands on my hips as I stepped a fraction closer to the porch screen. Our faces were only inches apart now, separated only by the wire.
"No takebacks," I gasped out, my voice raspy. "I just... I needed to ask. Can you eat meat? Any allergies? I realized I bought steaks and didn't check if you’re one of those cauliflower people."
Seraphina laughed harder, her shoulders shaking, her eyes bright and fixed entirely on mine. "No allergies and don't worry, only weirdos don't eat meat. No offense to the cauliflower people."
I let out a long, relieved sigh, the tension draining out of me all at once, replaced by the sudden, heavy awareness of how close she was standing. I could smell the faint scent of cedar and vanilla wafting off her skin through the screen.
"None taken. Okay. Good," I murmured, my voice dropping an octave as I looked down at her.
"See you at six, Detective," she smiled, her voice softening into a murmur that felt like a physical touch.
"Okay. Be safe," I muttered, my eyes lingering on hers for one final, heavy moment before I forced my boots to turn around.
I walked back to my cottage as the sun finally dipped below the ridge, leaving the valley in a cool, purple twilight that felt charged with anticipation.