Chapter 30
thirty
“If this is to end in fire then we shall all burn together.” - Ed Sheeran
Cole was mad enough at himself over what he’d said to Jocelyn that he rage-worked through half the morning, knocking out so many tasks for the Nail that he left himself with nothing else to do before the rest of the crew rolled in for shift. And that was still a couple hours out.
He hated it. Hated himself. Hated what that conversation had done to her—done to them. Because, damn it, he cared if there was a them. He didn’t know what that would mean for her, or for him, or for this town.
She was just as reluctant to put down roots here as folks were to welcome her, but it seemed like a few people had started warming up, her sister in particular.
Would she consider staying?
Would he consider leaving?
He’d been chasing the approval of the locals for so long, not giving much thought to what he wanted. And what he wanted was that house he was building outside of town. The quiet in those trees. The serenity of the creek that cut along the back of the acreage. The history in that land.
But asking her to stay felt like a mighty big request—especially when whatever this was between them was still fresh.
He knew he was getting ahead of himself.
And he was fixing to drive himself clean crazy.
He headed back to the supply closet, checking inventory again even though he’d already made a list of what he needed to order soon. Maybe he oughta go ahead and order everything while he had a minute.
His fingers itched, and he rubbed them along his thigh, unable to quit thinking about the way Jocelyn’s skin had felt under his hands. His mind circled back to the curve of her body as he’d traced it, the taste of her on his tongue, the way her fire called to his.
He thought about her humor. About how tough she was for surviving what she had. About the kindness she’d shown Natasha, who represented just about everything she’d never been given.
His gut twisted at the thought of this being the end of them. He knew he couldn’t let her go. Hell, he’d sell the restaurant and the land and start fresh somewhere else if it meant being with her.
Lord, he was in over his head. Farther than he’d ever planned to go.
He should’ve known the moment his body had reacted that first time he’d seen her back in town—even before that, really. The way her picture on his parents’ mantel had caught his eye every single time he’d been there.
The urge to fix what he’d broken that morning was so strong, he found himself with a hand on the back doorknob before he realized what he was doing.
A knock at the front stopped him in his tracks.
He crossed back through the restaurant, too hopeful that it was Jocelyn on the other side of that door. It made his palms sweat just knowing what he’d been thinking about before—a future he had no reason to grasp for, no right to.
When he opened the door, his brows folded low. “Chief?”
Eric Ward wasn’t in uniform, but he sure as hell wasn’t dressed for lounging either. That set Cole’s nerves twitching as he glanced behind the older man.
“Hey, Cole. Jocelyn around?”
Cole scratched the back of his neck. Strange question. He and Jocelyn hadn’t exactly been advertising themselves, but he supposed folks in town had eyes. Kiki Womack sure had made some insinuations before a damn thing had happened.
“No. Why?”
Ward nodded, glancing past him into the empty restaurant. “Looking into the fire out at Joe’s place. Heard she’d been stayin’ there. Also checking some of the older buildings on First. Lot of electrical issues lately.”
Something tugged at the back of Cole’s mind. “You think Joe’s fire was electrical?”
Ward snorted. “Not likely. Man’s a drunk—probably his own negligence. But the Inn’s fire could’ve been prevented. Don’t want another one cropping up.”
Cole stepped aside. “I’ve got a few minutes.”
Ward walked in, gaze roaming over the bar like he owned it. “How’s your pop liking retirement?”
“Seems alright. Still settling in. You know he has trouble sittin’ still.”
“Don’t we all,” Ward muttered, his voice carrying something Cole couldn’t place.
“Is that what this is?” Cole asked. “Keepin’ busy?” Gossip wasn’t his thing, but it always found a way to him, and Ward seemed to be lookin’ for more than just wiring issues. He’d asked about Jocelyn after all.
“Official busywork.” Ward’s smile was tight, quick, and wrong. He disappeared into the back before Cole could say more.
Cole frowned, noticing a few misplaced glasses behind the bar—leftovers from last night’s stragglers. He reached for them just as Ward reappeared.
“You redid the apartment upstairs, didn’t you?”
Cole straightened. “Yeah. Don’t know that you’d find anything. I pulled permits. Had the wiring inspected proper-like.”
“Mind if I check? Safer that way.”
A weight pressed into Cole’s chest. “Are you just stalling for Jocelyn?”
Ward laughed, too loud. “Might be. She’s been asking questions about her mama. I finally got around to diggin’ into some more of the old files for her.”
Cole’s jaw clenched. “I’ll let her know you stopped by when”—if—“she gets back.”
Ward smiled at the dismissal. “I’ll be gone soon as I check upstairs.”
The hairs on Cole’s neck stood up. Eric Ward was no longer asking, and under different circumstances, he might’ve been curious about why. But something was off.
“Go ahead,” he said, turning to reach for his phone on the bar top. “I’ll meet you up there.”
“Sorry, Cole.” The man’s tone had shifted—stone heavy and dark. “Leave the phone where it is. I’d like you to come with me.”
Cole turned slow. The gun in Ward’s hand wasn’t a surprise, but his gut still dropped.
He forced a shaky laugh. “Eric, come on.”
Maybe it was a joke. God, he hoped it was. But the ice in Ward’s gaze said otherwise.
“Upstairs,” Ward ordered. Then added as an afterthought, “Know what? Go on and hand me that phone. Might help us make sure that Murphy girl comes back in a timely manner.”
Ice hit Cole’s veins. That Murphy girl.
The words slipped out before he could stop them: “You killed Bonnie.”
Ward’s eyes hardened, cold now. “The phone.”
Cole didn’t move, his mind racing. What would Eric Ward have against Bonnie Murphy?
“Why?”
“Why what?” Ward snapped.
“Why kill Bonnie?”
“I didn’t—” He huffed, snatching the phone himself.
He dialed a number, pressing the phone to his ear.
That stumble of denial—I didn’t—told him plenty. Even if it was an accident, Ward had been involved.
He spoke into the phone, but he watched Cole. “Meet me at the Nail. I have a job for you.” So he wasn’t calling Jocelyn. Not yet. He hung up without saying goodbye and jammed the gun into Cole’s side. “Up the stairs.”
Cole swallowed, legs carrying him forward. He wasn’t stupid—he’d play along for the moment. Ward was strong, trained to haul bodies out of burning buildings. Cole couldn’t take him head-on, not yet. But he might get an opening if he paid attention, and that meant biding his time.
As they reached the stairs, Cole glanced at the phone in Ward’s hand. One chance, maybe. Dangerous with a gun in the mix, but he’d take whatever edge he could get.
His only comfort was that things between him and Jocelyn had been left unsettled. Maybe unsettled was enough to keep her from walking straight into the trap Ward had waiting.