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After stepping into a pair of sweats and borrowing a hoodie from KC, I headed downstairs and went to the bathroom.
Fuck, I had a bit of a headache. What I wouldn’t give for…
I flushed the toilet and shook my head, and I made quick work of washing my hands and splashing water on my face. Coffee and a smoke—how much I could miss that combo sometimes. Like right now.
Damn health problems had gotten in the way of my usual after-dinner walk with KC. That was when I occasionally snuck in a cigarette, and KC was a good boy to cover for me.
You know where they’re hidden.
I rubbed the towel over my face.
One wouldn’t kill me. It wasn’t as if I’d ever been a heavy smoker. And I’d been so good lately. Way too little sugar and salt, barely any red meat, and nothing deep-fried. What kind of life was that? Granted, Cam was amazing in the kitchen, and he’d never given me any reason to complain, even with the healthiest of foods. But still.
This was happening.
I made myself a cup of coffee using Cam’s instructions, and I peered out the window.
A thick mist blanketed the entire lawn. I couldn’t even see the pool area.
By the time my coffee was ready, I’d dug out my secret stash of Marlboros and put on my socks and KC’s sneakers.
I stepped outside and took a deep breath. The air was chilly, and the mist matched the color of the sky. Perfect morning. Not too cold. Quiet and peaceful.
It wouldn’t be long before people started waking up, and most of our friends had stayed over. But I had some time. I walked up alongside the main house and lit up my cigarette, taking a long pull. Hell. I coughed a little and cleared my throat. Reaching the front, where the porch waited for me?—
I came to a stop when I noticed River sitting there. With a cup of coffee and a smoke.
Fuck. My cancerous little hobby had been a fairly well-kept secret. Only KC and Kingsley knew—the latter because he was almost as quiet as River and had the tendency of sneaking up on you in the dark.
River tilted his head at me and lifted a brow.
No, he was safe, I decided. He was the last person who would spill.
“I’m not here,” I said, climbing the steps.
He nodded with a dip of his chin and spoke into his mug. “Mornin’, nobody.”
I chuckled under my breath and sat down next to him. “It’s unusual to see you up this early.”
He grunted noncommittally and flicked away some ashes. I noticed he was staring pretty intently toward the carport across the big front lawn—unless he was counting weeds in the aforementioned lawn. That could be fascinating too. Not to mention time-consuming with the fog.
“I got up to take a leak and thought I heard somethin’,” he said quietly.
I frowned, confused.
He nodded his mug at the carport. “That’s Ella’s car next to Reese’s truck.”
What on earth?
I peered toward the carport, and sure enough, I recognized Ella’s red Toyota.
I took a drag from my smoke, wondering why the fuck she was here. Penelope wasn’t. And…what if that was the point?
“Does she still have a key to Penelope’s cabin?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. Reese and I changed the locks a few weeks ago.”
Good. Good. I certainly didn’t want Ella digging through a space that was no longer hers, not after what she’d done.
