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I let her enchant me.
I let her look at me with her eyes so big and pretty and full of conviction.
I let that warmth in her eyes, in her voice, reel me in, the lure of her lips impossible to resist.
“Felicity,” I whisper. “I’ve gotta say, I love—”
“Okay,” Langley says, cutting off my I love you—damn him—as he pops his head back into the room like some demented gopher coming out of his hole. “You’re free to go for now. Your statements are fine, but I want you back here in the morning. This is a federal case now, and the FBI’s flying in tomorrow to take Lockwood into custody and speak to both of you.”
Felicity blushes neon-pink as we break away from each other, and she tucks her hair back, glancing at Langley. “Can they even arrest her in the condition she’s in?”
“Feds will handcuff her to the hospital bed if they have to, I guess.” Langley smiles thinly.
“They’ll credit Felicity with the catch, right?” I ask, clearing my throat.
Felicity gives me a puzzled look. So does Langley, his mustache twitching with his frown.
“I don’t know. I mean, I guess there’ll be reporters and all, but—”
“Nah, I don’t care about the news,” I say. “Sheriff, I did some digging on Paisley Lockwood. There’s over two million dollars in federal reward money at stake. Both U.S. and Canadian jurisdictions are offering it for anyone who supplies information or facilitates her capture. And since Felicity here not only turned over the gold, but she’s the reason you’ve got Paisley in custody...” I raise both brows. “I’d say she’s earned that cash, fair and square. I don’t want that fact getting lost in any administrative shuffle.”
“T-two million?” Felicity gasps, stuttering, clutching at my hand so hard I can feel her nails biting my skin. I ignore the pain and just squeeze back gently.
Meanwhile, Langley grins.
“Well, now. Seeing all the craziness that’s been happening around these parts the last few years, I’ve built up a bit of a reputation with a couple FBI boys. And if it means keeping my coffee supply coming...” His grin widens as he winks fit to shame the stars. “I’ll just have to see what I can do about giving the Feds an earful about that reward, won’t I?”
27
Wishing On A Golden Star (Felicity)
Two and a half million flipping dollars.
That’s how much the reward money came out to.
After taxes.
The day it hit my bank account, a few weeks after Paisley’s official arrest and the delivery of my statement to the FBI, I hyperventilated. Clarissa had me breathing in a paper pastry bag, and thank God, because if she wasn’t there when I got the payment notification...
I’m not sure I would’ve remembered how to breathe in time to enjoy my money.
Well, maybe I would, if Alaska hadn’t swept me up in such a ginormous bear hug that I had to take a panicked breath before he crushed my lungs.
That’s the only downside to having a boyfriend bigger than Paul Bunyan.
Some mornings I wake up and have to thump his shoulder to get him to roll off me before I crack a rib.
Oh, but you’ll never get me to admit out loud that I secretly like it.
He’s only the best man-blanket ever.
Plus, the fiercest sheet-ripping lover in existence.
Really, the best everything.
It’s all thanks to him that I have a life back.
A life, a shop, a newfound safety, a sense of pride, joy, and purpose.
When I say he put me back together again, piece by piece, it’s no exaggeration.
You can’t be who you really are when you’re paralyzed by sinister threats.
And in the weeks since Paisley’s arrest, I feel like I’ve rediscovered who I always was all over again, with Alaska there for every sweet moment—from fixing the latest damage worthy of an elephant stampede to my shop to completely renovating my storage room into a state-of-the-art roasting room.
I’ve even added on a whole crew of new hires to work the machines and churn out my custom blend, which—with a nice push from my marketing budget—should be going live soon.
I’ve even redone the packaging to start selling my beans nationally.
The label features a gorgeous wraparound of one of Eli’s photos, a stunning black and white interior shot of the empty café. The golden morning light streaking through the windows gives it color, evoking all the best feels.
Peace, comfort, and home.
That kid’s going to be famous one day, I swear.
I’m just proud watching him take his first steps toward perfecting his passion.
He’s hanging photos right now, working side by side with his father to measure and level before putting up framed shots all around the café. It’s a tastefully chosen selection from his collection of nature photos around town.
Alaska’s completely absorbed in it, of course, big goof that he is. He’s ridiculously serious about hanging these photos just right, ensuring they’re the same height and not a single one hangs even a micron off kilter.
