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“You’re my favorite son.” Mom leans over and squeezes my cheeks with both hands, delighted with herself.

I swat her away. “I’ll tell Luca you said that.”

“He’s my favorite son, too. You all are.”

Time to go. She seems to have forgiven Sebastian for bailing. I haven’t. The bell above the door tinkles as I head out. “She needs warmer clothes.”

“Great, you can take her shopping. I need you to pick up a few things from Fairbanks anyhow.”

“I’m not taking her shopping.”

“Tell Luca he’s starting at four.”

She had my dad wrapped around her finger the same way. He knew it, and he didn’t care. He loved her with his whole heart. I miss him every day.

Luca’s making breakfast when I come through the back door. “How’d it go with the new employee?”

I grunt.

“That good, huh? She must be pretty.” He slides two fried eggs onto a plate.

“She’ll leave the second it stops being a novelty. Trust me.”

He sits at the table and pushes aside my growing pile of paperwork. “Maybe. Or maybe not everyone runs.”

I let the dig hang in the air. If Sebastian ever comes home, I’ll be kicking his ass back over the boundary line myself.

Chapter 11

Ellery

Six days in, and my sleep routine has been turned upside down. How long does it take to become nocturnal? Longer than six days, according to the shadows under my eyes. I didn’t think Alaska would be this hard on my complexion.

For my first shift at the cafe, I decide on tights and an olive corduroy minidress over a cashmere turtleneck and twist my hair up into a claw clip. With the basic makeup kit I packed, I do what I can for my face.

Can’t say I’m jazzed about another night stuck in a van with Mr. Baron von Grumpster later on. He might be pretty, with that dark hair and rolled-up flannel, but the broodiness is unbecoming. The tips partially make putting up with him worth it. Plus, I love talking to the guests, hearing their stories, and the aurora…holy wow…nothing compares. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of all that sky. Lars sent me his photos from the lake, and I can’t stop scrolling through them.

With an hour to kill, I button my coat and go out to see what else this town has to offer besides a cafe and a mountain. And find some groceries too. A girl can’t live on leftover vegan hot dogs and cocoa forever.

Outside, the sun is bright and the air bites. The alley runs out onto a side street that meets Main at an intersection, storefronts stretching in both directions.

The scent of warm yeast and sugar is enough to make me turn right. Soren’s Bakehouse. Exquisitely decorated cakes fill the window, racks of rustic bread behind them. Farther back, a man in his twenties pounds a mound of dough like it wronged him in a past life. Soren himself, if I had to guess. I fog up the glass, planning a day of cozy PJs and toasty croissants.

Next door is Baranov Books, and I’m already stepping inside. Wandering through the shelves, I trace along the spines of books old and new. At a corner display of luxurious stationery, I choose a bound notebook with a raven etched in gold across a midnight-blue cover and an expensive pen. The price is forty-eight dollars. The actual cost is two nights of frozen fingers and time served with an annoying man in flannel.

I get it anyway. It’s a beautiful thing that has no purpose and I don’t let myself care.

Slowly, I hand over a wad of my tip money to a young woman with braids threaded with neon blue and a ring through her nose. Without looking up from her book, she slips my items into a brown paper bag and seals it with a gold foil sticker, like it’s a gift.

Two women in their twenties are deep in conversation by the door, each with the same novel tucked under their arm, a book club sticker on the cover. It’s a small-town romance I haven’t read yet.

“We need to stop reading these books,” the one in the pink puffer says. “We live in a small town, and the number of hot single men who aren’t related to us is infinitesimal. They give us false hope.”

The other laughs. “I wouldn’t mind a guy from one of the clans. Dominic is hot AF.” She glances back at me before dropping her voice. “I’d like to have my hands all over his sculpted abs and broad shoulders for an eternity.” She brings her hand to her forehead like she might faint from the thought of it.

Clans?

“Sure, if you want an STI. Dominic has slept with literally everyone.”