I don't know if I want to hold them together... or let them fall.
It's just proximity. Just the surprise of seeing him again, the physical response to an attractive man who happens to share history with me.
Nothing more.
I'll go to the festival tomorrow. Gather material for my article. Keep things strictly professional.
I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. The scent of his aftershave lingers in my memory, woodsy and warm with notes of cedar. Would it taste the same on his skin as the cologne he wore at eighteen?
Groaning again, I pull the pillow over my face. It's going to be a very long three days.
Chapter 5
Festival Flames
The Welcome SummerFestival transforms Angel's Peak from a quaint mountain town into a fairytale setting. Colorful banners stretch between lampposts, food vendors line the streets, and music drifts from a stage floating on Alpine Lake. I wander through the cheerful chaos, notebook in hand, occasionally stopping to snap photos with my phone.
Professional distance. That's my mantra today. I'm here for research, not to moon over Noah Morgan like some lovesick teenager. The article is what matters—my promotion, my career, the life I've built far from here.
So why do I keep scanning the crowd for him?
The morning passes in a blur of interviews and observations. I speak with artisans selling handcrafted goods, sample locally distilled spirits at a tasting booth, and collect business cards for follow-up questions. My notebook fills with details about community engagement, tourism strategies, and economic impact statistics.
No sign of Noah.
Not that I'm looking.
"Riley Bennett. Still chasing stories, I see."
I turn to find Sheriff James Donovan approaching, his familiar face now adorned with a neatly trimmed beard that doesn't quite disguise his boyish dimples. In high school, he was Noah's best friend and partner in occasional mischief. Now he wears the authority of his office with comfortable ease.
"Sheriff Donovan." I extend my hand, which he bypasses for a friendly hug.
"It's still just James to you." He releases me with a grin. "Unless you've got something to confess?"
"Not recently." I return his smile, genuinely pleased to see him. James was always kind, even after I broke his best friend's heart. "How's law enforcement treating you?"
"Can't complain. Low crime, decent funding since the tourism boost." He adjusts his hat against the bright sunlight. "Though I spend more time rescuing lost hikers than catching bad guys."
"Still a hero's work."
"Speaking of heroes..." His expression turns sly. "Heard you had some excitement at Mabel's yesterday, and that our fire chief was quick to respond."
Heat creeps up my neck. Of course, everyone knows about that already. "Just a small fire."
"Mmhmm." James rocks back on his heels. "Noah mentioned you're covering the festival for your article."
"Among other things. The community engagement angle is compelling."
"You should check out the paddle boat races at two. Great photo op. Locals versus tourists in head-to-head competition." He checks his watch. "Actually, I'm heading there now. Got roped into judging."
He starts to leave, then glances back. "Good to see you, Riley." A pause. "Didn't expect to say that, to be honest."
"Meaning?" That lands hard.
James shrugs, easy on the surface—but his eyes hold steady. Sharp. "Just... Noah's been different. Ever since word got around that you were coming back."
I wait, bracing.
