I rack the bar, breathing hard.
“Juniper stopped by,” Frankie calls from the doorway, pulling me out of the pit in my head.”Brought you a muffin.”
“Where is it?”
He pats his stomach. “Where do you think?”
“That was my muffin.”
“You weren’t here.”
Frankie leans in the frame, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. “I’ve been digging these past four years. Following threads. Listening when people thought I wasn’t. The deeper it goes, the darker it gets.”
“We’ll get the bastard,” I mutter.
He shakes his head slowly. “I hope you’re ready for what you find, son. Because I’ve got a bad feeling it ain’t just rot at the edges. It’s rot in the bones.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Frankie exhales smoke, gaze going somewhere past me. “Before Eli died, he mentioned Andrew Hudson once or twice.” His jaw tightens. “You know your dad. Not a talker. Just muttered it under his breath like it weighed on him.”
My chest goes cold. Cole’s dad?
Suddenly I remember a conversation I had with Dad after I came out to him. How he said Cole’s a good lad, but he’s not so sure about Andrew.
I thought he meant his snobbish ways. Not something more sinister.
Frankie fixes me with a hard look. “You start tugging at threads, you better be ready for what unravels. Even if it ain’t what you want to see.”
I breathe steady. Meet his eyes.
“I’m ready.”
COLE
“I’m never doing this again,” I pant, trying to keep up with Caspian, who’s running ahead like a show-off gazelle. I’m barely breathing. He’s barely winded. God, it’s annoying to be friends with an athletic person. Someone whose idea of fun is dragging me forward in agony.
“You should be grateful,” Caspian says in his upbeat manner. “I’m the only thing standing between you and early-onset heart disease.”
“You’re an early-onset pain in the ass,” I huff.
He smiles like I’m a child who needs mollifying. “Running helps clear your head. Especially if it’s haunted. By smoldering ghosts from the past. Or more polished ghosts of the future. You know, the ones with bargain yachts and a very specific kink for discipline.”
I groan. “Stop. I agreed to go on one date with James to get Mom off my back.”
“Excellent. That’ll be a lovely detail to share with your grandchildren. FYI, he’ll order for you. And you’ll hate it.”
“Wait, he took you out?” I ask, delighted.
“A long time ago. Pre-vineyard era. Back when he was still slumming it.”
“You never told me! Please tell me he broke your heart.”
“No, but he broke my will to live. Before dessert.”
I wheeze out something that barely qualifies as laughter. “Any survival tips?”
“None. I’m still in recovery. Also, mutual lack of attraction. You, however…” Caspian wiggles his eyebrows. “Your cuteness will absolutely tickle his champagne-soaked heart.”
