Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ud5d37aae-52e0-5879-af08-a8a62443d4ab)
Ice cream fixed a lot of problems, but it wasn’t going to fix this.
Drew Gannon passed a chocolate-brownie sundae to Wyatt. The tiny ice-cream shop had two tables inside and a patio full of picnic tables out front. Not much had changed in the fourteen years he’d been gone. If his best friend, Chase McGill, hadn’t insisted, Drew never would have moved back to Lake Endwell, Michigan. But Wyatt, Chase’s ten-year-old son, deserved a stable life away from the public eye. Drew had promised Chase he’d give Wyatt that life. He just needed to convince Lauren Pierce to help him.
Drew handed a twenty to the teen behind the counter, turned to Wyatt and pointed to the glass door leading to the patio. “Why don’t you head outside and save us a picnic table—the one with the striped umbrella.”
Wyatt nodded. He was far too grim for a little boy. Poor kid. The past nine months had traumatized him, and Drew was doing the best he could to make his life normal again. Well, as normal as it could be given the circumstances. A murdered mom. His dad in jail for trying to avenge her death. What a horrible situation.
Drew tried to spot Lauren. Would he recognize her after all these years? The only women he could see were either too old or not old enough. What if she’d changed her mind about meeting him? He wouldn’t blame her. If their situations were reversed, he’d probably never want to speak to her again.
“Here you go.” The girl shoved the change in his hand. “Napkins are over there.”
He thanked her, inserted a straw into his orange slushie and strolled to the door, pushing it open with his shoulder. An early-May breeze guaranteed sweatshirt weather. The sunshine highlighted Wyatt’s scrawny, slumped shoulders. His gaze seemed glued to the wooden table. Drew doubted he’d touched the ice cream.
Maybe he should call Lauren. Grovel if necessary.
“What’s wrong with your sundae?” He playfully punched Wyatt’s arm. “Don’t tell me you suddenly hate chocolate.”
His hazel eyes opened wide, as if he’d been lost in his own little world, which, Drew guessed, was exactly where he’d been for the past several months.
“I’m not hungry.” Wyatt slowly swirled the spoon in the gooey mixture, but he didn’t eat any of it.
Drew took a drink of slushie to ease the helplessness lining his throat. Would the kid ever enjoy simple pleasures again?
He checked his phone to see if Lauren had texted or left a message. Nothing. He needed someone to stay with Wyatt when he worked overnight at the fire station, and not just anyone would do. According to Drew’s mom, Lauren had the credentials—years of working with neglected children and a degree as a social worker—as well as the time. Apparently, she’d quit her job in Chicago and moved back to Lake Endwell a few months ago.
When he’d called Lauren last week, her clipped words had made it as clear as a freshly cleaned window she wanted nothing to do with him. She hadn’t relented after he’d tried to explain Wyatt’s situation, either. He’d finally resorted to pleading with her to just meet him in person before saying no. His words could never convince her the way one look at Wyatt could.
Except he hadn’t mentioned Wyatt joining them.
Manipulative? Yes.
Necessary? Absolutely.
The thud of a car door jolted him from his thoughts. He glanced ahead and his mouth dropped open.
Lauren Pierce.
Still had that long, wavy blond hair. She didn’t head to the door of the ice-cream shop—no, she strode directly to the patio. A baby blue hoodie was zipped halfway up over her white tank top. Her enormous light gray eyes captured him. A film reel of memories flashed through his mind so quickly he couldn’t keep up.
Breathtaking. A woman who stopped men in their tracks.
Why had he been such an idiot back then?
Something had changed, though. Her nothing-gets-me-down smile had been replaced with something else. Something familiar.
Drew darted a glance at Wyatt.
If he hadn’t lived with Wyatt’s diminished personality for months, he might not have recognized it. Lauren had been traumatized, too. And he wanted to know why. The captain of the cheerleading squad had had everything going for her. She’d never let anything shake her optimistic spirit.
“Glad to see you again. You’re looking good.” He rose and held his hand out. She ignored it, arching her eyebrows instead. Why had he said that? It was something the old him would have rolled out. Heat climbed up his neck. The last impression he wanted to give her was that he was the same old Drew.
“So when did you get back?” Lauren asked as she sat opposite them.
“Yesterday. Wyatt and I are renting a cabin on the lake. Used to be Claire Sheffield’s—well, Claire Hamilton now. Remember her? Her brother, Sam, was living next door, but Claire said Sam, his wife and their little boy moved to a house just outside town, leaving both cottages empty. Anyway, we’ve made a dent in the unpacking.” Drew’s knee bounced rapidly. He was babbling, and Lauren gave no indication she was up for small talk. He’d better get right to it. “This is Wyatt. Chase’s son.”
A flicker of kindness lightened her eyes. “Nice to meet you.”
Drew elbowed Wyatt, who belatedly said, “Hi,” and dropped his attention back to the table. This was going great.
“Thanks for coming.” He didn’t blame her if she left, but to his surprise, she stayed. She looked weary—but stunning all the same. “Mom told me you moved back in January. You’re a social worker?”
“I did move back, but no.” She shook her head, her demeanor icy. “I used to be a social worker. I don’t do that anymore.”
Hmm... He hadn’t considered she no longer wanted to work in her field. “Mom said you had a temp job.”
“I do. It’s great.” She nodded, and her smile appeared forced. She addressed Wyatt. “What do you think of Lake Endwell so far?”
One shoulder lifted in a shrug.
Drew’s knee bounced double time. “We’ll have to rent a boat or borrow a canoe or something soon. Wyatt here—”
“I don’t want to canoe,” Wyatt said.
He put his arm around Wyatt. “You’ll change your mind. Summer is the best season to enjoy the lake.”