Page 50 of Falling Embers

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The stubborn set of her jaw told me that this wasn’t over. “You’ll remember all the good times. You’ll see that it can be even better now.”

“Get out of here before I call the sheriff.”

“I’ll give you time. But I’m not going anywhere, Calder.”

17

Hadley

I couldn’t tearmy eyes away from what I was seeing—Jackie and Calder with only inches separating them. I couldn’t see his face, but hers was gentle as she looked at him. All doe eyes and meticulously curled auburn hair. Meanwhile, I sat in my SUV, smelling like smoke and my hair in a rat’s nest bun.

He moved in even closer. God, I was an idiot. It took only seconds for her to get those hooks into him again. Maybe the truth was the hooks had never left. Jackie’s hold on Calder was something I could never figure out how to break. Maybe because he cared about her more than he thought.

I closed my eyes as tears burned. I would never learn my lesson. Not when it came to my mom, and not when it came to Calder. I’d keep hoping for a different outcome, unable to see the truth for what it was.

I searched back through my memories, sifting through the happy ones and going for the one I needed to look at. I’d spent the past four years trying to bury it, forget that it had ever happened. But it was time I reminded myself.

My socked feet hit the final step as I descended the stairs. “Girls are on their way to dreamland, and it only took four books this time.”

Calder didn’t look up from where he sat on the couch. He simply stared at some papers on the coffee table, his gaze unfocused.

I moved farther into the living room. “You okay?”

He took a sip of an amber liquid. “The divorce is final.”

I stilled, not moving forward or retreating. Calder had wanted this since the moment he’d found out that his wife had driven his daughters high as a kite, not a care in the world that she could’ve killed them. But it had taken almost a year to get here. The custody case had been quicker, judges moving swiftly to remove all of Jackie’s parental rights.

I eased down next to him on the couch. “That’s good, right?”

My stomach churned at the idea that he might be having second thoughts. That he missed Jackie.

Calder chuckled, the sound darker than I’d heard from him before, and took a sip of whatever was in his glass. “Nothing about this last fucked-up year isgood, Hadley. But at least I’m free.”

I wanted freedom for Calder. That feeling we always chased. But he’d rejected any of my suggestions for finding it together. No mountain biking or rock-climbing. No snowboarding or anything else. There was always an excuse or a brush-off, and each rejection ate away at another little piece of me.

I knew he needed time to settle in to this new normal and get his feet back under him. But I missed my best friend. He was sitting inches away from me, and it felt like a million miles.

It was more than that. As I studied Calder’s face, the thick scruff on his jaw, those dark eyes that I could get lost in for days, I knew it was more.

I’d loved Calder Cruz from the moment he’d taught me how to fly. Racing down a mountain and giving me the release I’d so desperately needed. He’d been my understanding and safe space.

I couldn’t lose that. I’d fight to the death for it. Calder was slowly disappearing before my eyes. Existing but no longer living, other than to take care of Birdie and Sage. I had to show him there was more. For both of us.

I leaned forward, plucking the glass from his hand and taking a sip. I couldn’t help the cough that followed. “What is that? Jet fuel?”

The corner of Calder’s mouth kicked up in that way that always sent flutters through me. “It’s whiskey. A little more of an acquired taste.”

I set the glass down on the table. “Who would want to acquire a taste for burning your throat alive?”

“Me, apparently.”

“Masochist.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

I was so close now. I could feel the heat of Calder’s body seeping into mine. Those dark eyes glowed with a hint of amber in their depths tonight. A hue that I wanted to see burn hotter.

My heart hammered against my ribs, sending little tremors through me. I pressed my hands into the cushions of the couch so they wouldn’t shake. Then I closed that last bit of distance.


Tags: Catherine Cowles Tattered & Torn Romance