That’s when I saw her.
Harmony.
She was outside Petals and Pines, sleeves rolled, hair pulled back, hauling trash bags toward the curb. Her jeans were streaked with mud, a smudge across her cheek. She looked stubborn and tired and alive in a way that hurt to look at. I crossed the street before I could talk myself out of it.
“Morning,” I called.
She looked up, surprise softening her expression. “You don’t rest, do you?”
“Neither do you.” I took the bag from her before she could argue. “Let me help.”
“You already did enough yesterday,” she noted.
“Not for you.”
Her lips parted, caught between protest and something else. “Becket said Nico and Olivier were near the industrial park again.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Beck is checking it out. You stay in town until we know what they’re after.”
“I’m fine, Eric.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “You keep saying that.”
Her hand brushed mine as she passed another bag. Small, warm, electric.
“I don’t need saving,” she said as if to remind me.
“I never said you did,” I confirmed.
For a second, everything slowed—the rain, wet air, the hum of distant traffic, the weight of the past pressing close. I wanted to tell her not saving her didn’t mean I’d ever stop trying. But I didn’t. Some truths lived better unsaid.
“Tea again tonight?” I asked, because at the end of the day, I was drawn to this woman, and nothing I tried to do would change that.
Her lips curved, hesitant. “Maybe.”
“I’ll take maybe.” I grinned like the Cheshire cat.
A siren wailed somewhere near the station. I stepped back. “Be careful today.”
“You too,” she said.
I turned toward the bakery with a hint of a smile on my face because I think she was definitely flirting a bit, although I was reading her hesitation too. Or maybe it was fear. What I felt for her was scary for me too, but having her back in town again made it feel like I’d been given a second chance. I just didn’t know what to do with it. Becket could chase his answers. Dad could bury them. And I could keep pretending the past didn’t pull at every heartbeat. But the truth was, I’d been chasing storms my whole life: fires, floods, women who disappeared without goodbye.
And Harmony Bellerose?
She wasn’t something to fix. She was the calm after the wreck, the light that made me want to believe the missing sometimes came home. Now the question remained, was I going to find the courage to go after my heart? Or let all my hopes burn like ashes.
CHAPTER 10
Harmony
Two days after the storm, Val-Du-Lys was still in recovery mode. The storm had stripped the trees bare and left the sidewalks slick, but the town refused to stay down. People swept debris into piles, strung up tarps, and opened their doors like nothing had happened. The air smelled of wet earth and woodsmoke, a mix that always reminded me of autumn in this place. I was outside Petals and Pines with a broom, pushing puddles toward the curb when Sandy came out holding two mugs of coffee.
“Looks like the town’s almost back to normal,” she said, handing me one.
“Val-Du-Lys doesn’t waste time,” I said, taking a sip.
Sandy smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Becket stopped by earlier. Wanted to ask you a few more questions.”
