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“I’m sure he’s going to love it. You’re right, there’s definitely something in the air here. I didn’t think I’d like coming back, but now I don’t think I can imagine leaving.”

“Well, you’re also bussy-whipped, so there’s that.”

I laughed at that, Houston joining with caws of his own. “Bussy-whipped, that’s a new one.”

“And one you can’t deny?” Darien asked, cocking his head and chuckling. “We should go on a double date this weekend. You guys can meet Remi. We can go on a hike or something.”

“That sounds like fun,” I said. “Isn’t the new detective coming this weekend, too? Maybe we can invite him.”

“Yeah, he is. I’ll shoot him an email about it.”

Ryan Diaz, one of the top private detectives on the West Coast, was poached after a dinner with Zane and agreed to move to Blue Creek as the second detective to join Stonewall. He had visited once already and seemed like a down-to-earth guy with a sharp wit and even sharper skills. I was excited about him joining the team.

Something else I was excited about? Dinner with Charlie tonight. It had been a long week, and we were both still on a hyper-sharp knife’s edge after finding that threat. I decided that I would try and make tonight as stress-free as possible with a homemade dinner featuring all of Charlie’s favorites: garlic mac n’ cheese, thin crispy fries, a ranch-covered southwest salad, and a seafood paella which was a famous Spanish dish that Charlie would devour whenever my mom would make it back in our college days.

I said bye to Darien and Houston, giving him the Friday off since I planned on spending the entire day out hunting for more clues. On the way home, I stopped at Juniper June’s Groceries and Blooms, a popular grocery store that even attracted out-of-towners with an always impressive collection of flowers for sale along with a tiny greenhouse attached, where even more plants could be bought. It was actually where I had my first job as a bagger, promoted to the cashier after a few months and then quit once I earned a scholarship that covered all my tuition.

Charlie and I also used to hook up in the stock room after hours, so there was that.

I grabbed a bouquet of fragrant yellow and pink roses along with a couple of last-minute things on my grocery list. The sun was still high in the sky as I pulled up my driveway, even though the clock on my dash read five thirty. It was one of the nicer parts of living in the New England sphere; the sun seemed to be a near-permanent fixture in the sky, rising at five in the morning and setting close to nine. I missed some things about New York City, no denying that, but I was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to fall in love with Blue Creek.

Of course, Charlie helped a lot with that.

I hurried inside to finish the cooking and set up for tonight’s date night. The chardonnay was chilled and the flowers rehomed in a blue crystal vase that my grandma had sent me from Spain. I knew he was spending time with his parents today, but I wasn’t entirely sure how much time that meant I had to get ready, so I started to run around my place in a pair of boxers, plating and then cleaning and then getting dressed.

Thankfully, I was just zipping up my jeans and spritzing some cologne when I heard the door open downstairs.

I leaned out of my bedroom and shouted, “I’ll be right down!” and then darted back into the room, heading right for the sock drawer. I opened it and dug underneath the bundle of socks, grabbing a dark box, long with a velvety soft touch to it. The final piece for tonight’s special night.

Barefoot, I walked out into the hall and down the stairs with a hop in my step, taking them two at a time.

“Char, I hope you came hungry. I’ve got your fave—Charlie?” He wasn’t in the living room like I expected him to be. I looked around, not seeing the shoes he’d normally leave kicked off by the door. I scrunched my brows and set the box down on the coffee table.

The light was on in the kitchen. I had left it off.

He must be really hungry, then.

Usually Charlie didn’t make a beeline for the kitchen, but maybe the mouthwatering smell of everything I’d cooked just pulled him there like a magnet.

“Charlie?” I turned the corner, stepping into the kitchen, seeing him standing there with his back to me, hands on the counter and gaze looking somewhere out the window above my sink.

“Char… You’re scaring me.”

He turned, and I could tell he’d been crying. His eyes were red and puffy, his lashes shining. “What did I do to us, Austin?”

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