1
BLAZE
Iwasn’t supposed to stop.
That was the first mistake.
I had a list. A schedule. A reason for being in town that had nothing to do with coffee, pretty women, or getting gut-punched by the past in the middle of a Texas sidewalk.
Then I saw her.
Standing just outside the café.
Sunlight caught in her hair like the whole damn morning had been waiting for her to step into it. She laughed at something the woman beside her said, soft and real, and every muscle in my body locked down.
Because I knew that laugh.
Or at least…
I thought I did.
“Blaze?”
Trigger’s voice crackled through my earpiece.
“You still with us, or did you get distracted by something shiny again?”
I didn’t answer.
Most people in Eagle River called me Blaze now.
Army Ranger call signs had a way of sticking, especially with the men inside the Last Stand Tavern who knew me better than most people ever would.
But sixteen years ago?
I’d just been Hersh McDougal.
A too-young, too-stubborn kid with more dreams than sense and one girl who had owned every part of my heart before I was old enough to know how badly love could ruin a man.
And the woman standing outside that café looked exactly like her.
No.
Not exactly.
Older. Softer in some places. Stronger in others.
But those eyes?
That mouth?
The way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear like she had done a thousand times when she was trying to pretend she wasn’t nervous?
My pulse slammed once. Hard.
“…no way,” I muttered.
“Blaze,” Trigger pushed. “Report.”
