Now Galloway Bay had its very own raging wildfire sweeping through town.
We’d just asked a bunch of our employers for donations, but the minute word got around—the very next day—how we were going for the charity prize, those requests fell by the wayside and became the secondary focus to the glory of the underdog. Storytellers all over town had started elevating us to some weird hero status, counting on us to save all.
Guys…this was the long shot of long shots.
I hated to break it to them, but we needed our plan A and plan B.
We needed prayer chains, rabbit’s feet, crystals, horseshoes, fuzzy dice, ladybugs, shamrocks…hell, we could use leprechauns shooting out of our butts right now, sputtering, “I’m after me lucky charms.”
But fuck if I’d let doubt fall from my lips. I’d lay everything I had on that track for those kids leading up to the exhibition and all the way through it. Rylee’s worried face, as real as if she were right in front of me, popped into my head and a band tightened around my chest. I shuddered out a breath.
And the image sliding into place right after…Priest’s angry mouth and flashing eyes a split second before he mercilessly ate me alive.
My heart rolled a series of slow, hard thumps in my chest before taking off at a sprint. Heat slid through me. My skin grew hot and tight.
Absolutely devoured me.
And I wanted to do it again. I wanted to do it naked.
There should probably be some sort of break between the images flashing through my scattered imagination. A Parental Advisory: Explicit Warning.
Flaming girl bits mobilized… Good thing they came with their very own sprinkler system.
God, I was getting punchy.
I shot off the couch and glanced at the clock. Nine minutes. I rested for nine damn minutes. If you could call the mental acrobatics I’d just gone through rest.
Jamming my feet into my boots, I grabbed my duffel and I headed out the door. If I was going to be this restless, I’d put that energy into something useful.
I took a deep breath of crisp, cold air. A few familiar locals waved, nodded, and smiled as they hurried to and from their cars into the shops on Main Street. Janice Chase, the sheriff’s sister who ran the Galloway Bay library, called out just as I reached the parking lot.
“Make sure you bring in those little ones to see us. We’ve got brand-new books they’re going to love. Oh! And we have that camp series Addison has been waiting for,” she said with a wave.
“I’ll try to get them in next week,” I called back.
“If you can tear them away from Rockabilly’s. Am I right?” Janice called back with a wink.
“Yeah.” I forced out a laugh as my stomach pitched to my toes. Our issues went so much further than steering the kids away from the roller rink.
We needed to figure out how we were going to manage this training and continue our time with the kids at Crossroads.
We couldn’t give up a solid month’s worth of visits with them to train. It was too much for their little hearts and feelings, and with the battle ahead, we needed a constant reminder of what we were fighting for.
We needed more of the kids, not less.
Well, shit.
I fired up my car, aimed the vents away from me until my little sedan heated up, what meager heat it chugged out, and rolled out of town.
Despite the sun and cloudless sky, the cool temperatures helped the towering pines along Route One cling to the blanket of snow draped over their limbs.
I didn’t need directions. Everyone, even a transplant like me, knew where to find Bishop Farm. Priest’s family had been a fixture in this town for generations. The once-dairy farm hadn’t seen cattle in decades, but now had expansive gardens that supplied local restaurants, helping hold on to their locally grown pride. And the transformation throughout the generations, through the decades, hung in old grainy photos in various local diners, shops, and even in Banked Track.
Those gardens languished for a short time after Stella Bishop died, but before long, Lilith moved to the farm, hired help, and in three years managed to get them flourishing once again.
I knew that story of the Bishops.
Hell, if I knew much else. Again, that whole difficulty pulling information from the tight-ass coach. The timing of the scandal didn’t help.
I’d just lost my mom.
I didn’t care about anything happening in Galloway Bay; I was too busy fighting to stay.
My skin prickled as I pulled up to Bishop Farm a half hour before the rest of the team.
What was it like to have this connection to a place? To people? To a town?
To have generations of family, traditions, and memories to cherish when life kicked you in the tits?
And once you had it, how the hell did you ever walk away?
The two-story white house came into view. Flanked by two chimneys trickling with tufts of smoke, it stretched toward a massive red barn with the added length of additions over the years, eventually ending at the newest section—a two-story two-car garage.
Heavy green window boxes covered in snow lay empty, but spilled colorful blooms from early spring until after Halloween.
The kind of house you only saw in idyllic Christmas cards.
The kind of place you wanted to get cozy, wrap up in a quilt, and watch the snowfall outside the quiet picture window for hours.
The kind of house I’d never had.
I gulped back an embarrassing wave of longing and tightened my hands on the wheel.
I’d planned to arrive with my team to bridge the gap between their hostile wariness and his reluctance. But after a kiss that was better than all the good sex I’ve ever had combined—including the
