Page 182

Ashby takes a sip of coffee, then says, “You threatened a parking meter with violence earlier.”

“It was poorly designed.”

I should be embarrassed. I should feel exposed sitting here with three men who notice everything about me before I do. Instead, warmth keeps spreading through my chest every time one of them proves they’ve been paying attention.

For once, being seen doesn’t feel dangerous.

The realization unsettles me enough that I immediately stand. “I need air.”

Nobody stops me. Another thing they’ve learned.

I walk outside beneath the awning. The unending rain drips steadily from its scalloped edge, and headlamps glare off the puddles in the street as passing traffic hisses by.

Behind me the café door opens softly.

I don’t turn around because I already know from the footsteps it’s Torin.

He leans beside me beneath the awning, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

For a minute neither of us speaks.

Then he says softly, “You’re scared we won’t find her.”

Straight to the heart of it as usual.

I exhale shakily. “What if she keeps running?”

“She left clues.”

I look toward him finally.

Torin’s blue eyes stay on mine beneath the lights spilling through the café windows.

“She wanted somebody to follow eventually,” he says. “People who want to fall off the edge of the earth don’t leave trails behind.”

A lump of emotion clogs my throat for a moment. Because maybe he’s right. Maybe Maggie left breadcrumbs because some part of her wanted to be found eventually.

Just not by Tom.

“But there’s no somebody to follow except me.”

He nods. “Yes.”

His eyes are telling me what I suspected since finding the note—that he thinks she left the trail for me.

I glance through the café’s steamy windows and glimpse Briggs gesturing decisively as he argues with Ashby about something probably involving the healing power of muffins.

My chest tightens unexpectedly watching them.

These men.

This strange impossible thing growing between us while my regular life falls apart everywhere else.

Torin notices where my attention has drifted.

“You know they’d follow you anywhere now. Me too.”

My heart thuds painfully. I wrap both hands tighter around my coffee cup for strength. “That seems emotionally irresponsible of all of you.”