Epilogue
Ryder
Though Ryder Grant normally did whatever necessary to avoid weddings, he could hardly dodge his own brother’s. Not as if he—the best man—could’ve voluntarily scheduled himself to be on duty, nor would Denver have forgiven him for answering a call when he’d reassured him three officers were covering all day.
But Ryder would hardly turn down an excuse to escape the premises if it bought him a few more minutes to ease the apprehension.
Decked out in a rented tuxedo—Ryder had no reason to own his own—he navigated the residential streets, taking the long way to Black Bear Coffee to procure a Sitka something-or-other for the groom. He treasured every minute before he had to return to the Sunset Ridge Lodge for the ceremony.
Two years was not long enough to numb himself from the memory of standing at the altar in front of a church full of people, waiting on a bride who never showed. He’d proudly buy Denver all the girly coffee in the world to prolong returning to the front of a smiling crowd like that again.
With any luck, this errand would cause him to lose a parking spot at the venue and force him to trek several blocks back on foot.
Downtown, Ryder scanned the streets as he hopped out of his truck. Hard habit to break, even on a day off. The light shuffle of locals out for Saturday errands would morph into packed sidewalks filled with tourists within a couple of weeks. But today, all looked calm.
Too bad.
“Don’t you look like a movie star about to walk down the red carpet.” Charlene, the owner of Black Bear Coffee, gave him an approving smile. A welcome sight on this anxiety-ridden morning.
“Need a couple coffees to-go.” He tried to force a smile, and maybe he even succeeded for a fraction of a second. It was the best he could offer today. He recited the order Denver had given him from a sticky note. Without writing it down, he never would’ve remembered the frilly drink name.
“Denver and Sophie’s big day, huh?” Charlene could chat up a storm, and often did. She reminded him of an endearing aunt who always had a nugget of wisdom to impart but made you wait through a string of chatter to get it. She was a great source of information when Ryder needed it.
“Yep.”
“Heard your future sister-in-law has quite the setup at the lodge. Starting her own party planning branch and all.”
“It’s quite something,” Denver agreed. He was a big enough man to admit that he’d been wrong about Sophie Whitmore—soon-to-be Sophie Grant. She was everything his brother needed and deserved. It was Ryder’s own jaded lens that had led him to believe otherwise.
“Don’t suppose I’ll be getting an invitation to another Grant wedding anytime soon?” The lighthearted pep to Charlene’s tone was a stark contrast to the ominous topic she broached.
Ryder adjusted his tie, suddenly finding it tight around his neck like a noose. “No.”
“You deserve to be happy, too, Ryder,” Charlene pressed on, sliding two to-go cups across the counter. “Don’t you think it’s been long enough?”
Ryder gripped the cups as if they were a lifeline. “I’ll tell Denver and Sophie you send your congratulations.” He spun toward the door so quickly he nearly knocked Denver’s cup into a customer. Only by a miracle did Ryder keep his tuxedo clean. His mom would kill him if he showed back up with a stain.
“Oopsie daisy!” Geraldine Franks clutched her hands to her chest in surprise. “Good save there, Chief.”
“Sorry about that,” he apologized. “You all right?”
“Right as rain.” The elderly woman beamed a smile at him, apparently admiring him all spiffed up. Outside of his police uniform and the occasional funeral, Ryder didn’t get dressed up for anything these days. “Say, don’t you have a wedding to get to?”
“Indeed. Have a nice day, Mrs. Franks.” He pushed against the door and fell into the fresh air.
Instinct took over as always as Ryder made his way to his truck, causing him to scan the sidewalks on either side of the road. Jolene Davies chatting up a couple at the end of the block. Her husband staring down at his watch. Both dressed for a wedding. A kid on a bike across the street. Another kid enjoying an ice cream cone on a bench. All seemed as expected.
Except for one person who looked sorely out of place, directly across the street from him.
Not a tourist.
Ryder squinted, certain he was seeing a mirage.Kinley James?Impossible. His former classmate had sworn she’d never come back to Sunset Ridge after high school. For any reason. She’d made the public declaration at their graduation ceremony.
Yet, Ryder would bet his fishing boat that the woman unlocking the two-decades-old Buick was Kinley. The same girl who’d given him his first kiss the week before seventh grade started.
What’s she doing here?
Two steps into the street to greet her, Ryder’s phone buzzed in his pocket and jerked him to a halt. A reminder that he had a wedding to attend. He watched Kinley drop into the older sedan he recognized as her aunt’s Buick, realizing he wouldn’t know what to say even if he’d gotten close enough. They weren’t exactly friends.
