Page 25 of 500 First Editions (The Romantics #3)

AUTUMN

PROOF OF LIFE

I stared at the grocery bags on the counter, then peered at the window again.

Ryan was washing my car.

When he got back from his trip into town, he had poked around the house and pilfered what he needed. Then, he headed to the driveway and proceeded to vacuum out my car, detail the interior, and give it a thorough wash.

After 1,500 miles on the road in the span of two days, it desperately needed it. I needed the reset, too.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Lisa teased as she swirled the lingering drops of coffee in the bottom of her mug.

We had started with pleasantries—really just the two of us hugging and crying—then got the funeral updates out of the way.

Lisa was more than happy to move on to what she wanted to know: what the hell I was doing with Ryan Ford.

I rolled my eyes. “You mean the grifter I picked up and did a cross-country road trip with after I stuck my foot in my mouth in front of three hundred people? Don’t hold your breath for a save-the-date.”

She snickered. “That’s some quality one-on-one time.”

“Don’t remind me,” I groaned as I peered out the window again. Ryan had lost his shirt as the midmorning heat beat down on him.

His chiseled chest and arms were glistening from the spray of the hose, making his sleeves of tattoos stand out in the sunshine.

Lisa sidled up to me at the window, clutching her mug. “You lucky bitch.”

She and I had an odd relationship. It was somewhere in the Venn diagram of a stepmother, a sister, and a friend. I loved her for it. Even when Lisa and Shep were just dating, she had carved out a place for me in her life because he had a place in my life.

I giggled. “Fine. So he’s not bad to look at.”

“ Not bad ?!” Lisa spun on me and held up four fingers. “Do you need to get your eyes checked? How many fingers am I holding up?”

I swatted her hand away. “I’m allowed to acknowledge that he’s pretty to look at and also dislike what comes out of his mouth sometimes.”

“I bet he could do some things with that mouth . . .”

“Lisa! You’re supposed to be mourning!”

“I’m coping with humor.” She hip-checked me back to my half of the window. “Now move. You’re blocking the view.” Her tone was full of levity and sarcasm, but I didn’t miss the way she twisted her engagement ring.

I couldn’t imagine her ever taking it off. I still remembered the day Shep sent me pictures of all the ring options he was considering when he was planning his proposal.

Her tone softened. “I can’t help but notice that Bev doesn’t have the other room finished, and both of your suitcases are in the main bedroom.”

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” I admitted. “My mom made me feel like shit for coming out here for the funeral, and I know Amber’s just going to be the same way. I went out to the tree and tried to clear my head, but it didn’t work.”

“I know that feeling all too well,” she admitted as she spun her ring again.

“Ryan was sleeping on the couch. I told him to take the bed since I was tossing and turning. We ended up sleeping together.”

Lisa raised her eyebrows.

“ Just sleeping,” I said.

“You trust him.” She said it as a statement, not a question.

“I guess. I mean, he’s sweet. He’s just not my type.”

“And what is your type?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Lisa turned away from the window and crossed her arms. “I’d say you’re looking at him.”

“Ryan isn’t my type.”

“Really? Because I’d say that man is head over heels for you. I can’t imagine anyone being willing to drive across the country for someone they just met.” Her smile was sad. “Well. Except Shep.”

Shep had met Lisa a year after he and my mom had divorced.

He was on the road, hauling a trailer from Kansas City to Wilmington, North Carolina.

The way he tells it, somewhere around the Virginia-North Carolina line, he pulled off at a gas station in a little town called Falls Creek and found a woman standing in the parking lot trying to change her tire.

He showed her how to change it, then spent thirty minutes drinking shitty midnight coffee, eating stale donuts, and talking to her.

She went on her way, and Shep finished his route with her number stored safely in his phone.

When he got home, he called me and told me that he had fallen in love. Instead of spending his three weeks off the road resting, he hopped in his pick-up truck and went right back to see her.

At the time, Lisa worked as an emergency room nurse in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. After months of Shep driving and flying to see her during his off weeks, she packed up and moved to Kansas.

I thought she was crazy.

Shep spent weeks begging for me to come back to Kansas to meet her. Finally, I saw why they crossed the country for each other.

The way Shep and Lisa looked at each other was undeniable, and I found myself chasing the same magic. I wanted someone to look at me the way they looked at each other.

“Yeah,” I rasped. “Except for Shep . . .”

“You should come by the house,” Lisa said abruptly. There was an urgency in her voice. “There are some things you might like to look through.”

I reared back. “You’re not getting rid of his stuff, are you?”

Lisa’s brows furrowed. “What? No. Heavens no. There’s just .

. .” I could tell she was biting her tongue, but I didn’t know if it was because she couldn’t handle the grief or something else.

Her eyes locked on mine. “He kept a lot of stuff from when you were little.” The corners of her mouth tightened.

“I’ll keep it all, but I think you might want the memories. ”

I didn’t know if I could handle going through Shep’s things, but I didn’t want to hurt Lisa. Ryan would go with me if I asked him.

I nearly stumbled backward at the thought. After the last couple of weeks, it was such a natural reaction to trust him to be there for me.

Lisa cocked her head. “Are you having a stroke?”

I pressed my clammy hands to my cheeks and let out a sharp breath. “I think so.”

She glanced at the time, then back out the window at Ryan as he rinsed off the car. “I need to get going. My folks are flying in today. I should probably be there when they land.”

“I can go pick them up,” I offered. “You shouldn’t be running errands and playing taxi. Let us help you.”

“As much as I appreciate that, I can handle an airport pick-up. You need to go see your family.”

I hated the sound of that.

Lisa squeezed my arm. “Come by the house. I’ll set everything aside for you. Bring your hunky man. He’s nice to look at, and you wouldn’t dare deprive a grieving widow of a moment of joy, would you?”

“You play dirty.”

She patted my shoulder as the door opened and closed. Ryan, barefoot and sweat-soaked, padded in with his shirt draped over one shoulder.

“Ryan, it was very nice to meet you. I hope we get to spend a little more time getting to know each other before you two head to wherever you’re going next,” Lisa said.

His answering smile was kind. “I wish it were under better circumstances, but I’m glad I got to meet you.” Although he was nearly dripping wet, Ryan rested his hand on the small of my back, his fingers working gentle circles against my skin.

Lisa’s eyes ping-ponged between the two of us before yanking open the door. “Right. Make good choices, kids,” she tossed over her shoulder as she walked out to her car.

Ryan chuckled. “What was that about?”

“Lisa being Lisa.”

He moved into the kitchen and started rummaging around the groceries he brought in. “Teasing you about us?”

“Something like that,” I said as I picked up my phone. It had been vibrating off and on while Lisa was here, but I didn’t want to appear distracted.

I settled on the couch and opened the WW text thread that had been blowing up for the better part of an hour.

Whitney

Proof of life check on Willow.

Wander

Did you make it to Michigan? Did you kill Ryan and you’re secretly on the run?

Whitney

He’s alive . . . I think. He posted a photo of her hair. Kinda cryptic but mostly cute.

Wander

She could have posted that from his account to hide the fact that she left his body somewhere in Indiana. The trick is to leave body parts in different states.

Whitney

Are you writing serial killers now? Because I totally want to read a serial killer book by you.

The chat went on and on as they bounced from topic to topic. Finally, it looped back to the proof-of-life request again.

Wander

Wills—It’s been three days since we’ve heard from you. Are you on the run? Send the eggplant emoji if you’re an outlaw.

Whitney

Great. If she sends the eggplant, the FBI agent assigned to look into our questionable internet searches will know that she’s on the run.

Me

What’s the opposite of an eggplant?

Whitney

1. Thank goodness you’re not on the run. 2. It’s the pencil emoji. If Ryan is packing an eggplant, then the opposite is a pencil dick.

I dropped the pencil emoji into the text thread, then glanced up and watched Ryan moving back and forth in the kitchen.

He had popped something into the toaster oven and had a kettle going on the stove.

His back was to me, giving me an unobstructed view of the straps of muscle that crisscrossed his back and shoulders, and the obscene way his mesh gym shorts cupped his ass.

If the feel of him on top of me this morning was any indicator, he was definitely packing an eggplant.

I looked down at the text thread and debated what to tell them.

Wander

Did you make it to Michigan or are you still on the road?

Me

Change of plans. We’re in Kansas.

Whitney

We? We as in you and Ryan? OH MY GOD.

Wander

HOLY SHIT, YES. I’m totally winning the bet. Tell us when you hook up for the first time. Have you hooked up yet? Also, what happened to Michigan?

Me

Shep died.

Two sets of three dots appeared and disappeared as the girls typed responses, deleted them, and retyped. There were no words they could say that would ease the sting or dampen the grief. I knew that, and they knew that, so I put them out of their misery.

Me

I might be MIA for a bit. Ryan’s here with me. He helped with the drive. Lisa was over a little bit ago. I’ll be okay eventually. It just really fucking hurts right now.

Whitney

Are you staying at Bev’s house?

Me

Yeah.

Wander

Good. You’re where you should be. Let us know what we can do for you.

I had no doubt that Whitney and Wander would jump on a plane if I so much as asked for a tissue. I had done the same for them. But Whitney was pregnant, and Wander was settling into her own happily ever after. I didn’t want to be the needy single friend who was a constant burden.

“You doing okay?”

I didn’t even realize that Ryan had walked up. He settled on the couch and set a tray on the coffee table in front of us.

Pierogies and hot chocolate.

“I fully understand that it feels like hellfire outside, but pierogies are comfort food even if they come from the frozen food section.” He picked up a mug and handed it to me. “And a wise woman once said that hot chocolate is made for pierogies.”

Tears welled in my eyes at the first sip. “Ry . . .”

He picked up his mug and tapped it against mine in a somber toast. “To Step Shep.”

Prickles of sadness clawed at my throat as the knot in the middle grew and grew.

“You need to eat something,” Ryan said as he took a sip, then set his mug back on the tray. “I can make you a sandwich or something if this doesn’t sound good.”

“No,” I said through the sand that coated my voice. “This is . . .” I sniffed and shook my head in disbelief. “This means a lot to me. The food . . . You washing my car . . . You being here.”

Ryan nodded in understanding. “I know our circumstances are a little unconventional, but I do care about you. And I do like spending time with you. A lot.”

I made a show of huffing like the entirety of our forced proximity was an inconvenience.

When, really, it was the furthest thing from it.

“I suppose you’re not entirely repulsive, Ryan Ford. Some might even call you tolerable.”

I grabbed a pierogi as Ryan laughed. It certainly wasn’t as good as the ones we had in New York, but it wasn’t bad for a freezer aisle score.

“Are you one of those ‘some?’” Ryan asked as he went for one of his own.

“No,” I said through a bite.

Ryan looked at me curiously. “No? You don’t think I’m tolerable?

” He licked the sheen of oil off his fingers, then held them out, ticking off each point as he listed them.

“I’m a great driver. I find good places to stop.

I’m an excellent bedmate. I’m highly motivated by food, so you know whatever we eat is going to be good. ”

“Those last two make you sound like a dog. Maybe I should get a dog.”

“Why get a dog when you have me?” He nudged me with his elbow. “I’m a great companion.”

We shared subdued smiles as we ate in silence, simply enjoying the feeling of not being alone.

“Can I be honest with you?” Ryan said as he grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

“I would prefer that to you lying to me.”

A half-cocked boyish grin hooked on the corner of his mouth. “Smartass.”

He sat back against the couch and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I curled my feet up on the couch and tucked into his side. It was such a normal feeling that the gravity of that comfort didn’t fully resonate.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I liked your books. But the part I need to be honest about is that I didn’t start reading them on the drive. Not entirely. I read one of them before Rom-Con. To be fair, I read one of Whitney’s and Wander’s too. And one written by that other guy.”

“Jordan Loft.”

His fingers grazed my shoulder as he traced abstract shapes on my body.

“But I couldn’t stop thinking about yours.

Then we met in the check out line. I didn’t recognize you because your hair was purple the last time you posted a picture on social media.

And then everything happened the next morning.

But every assumption or notion that I had about you in all those moments pales in comparison to who I’m learning that you are.

” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I hope that I get to keep knowing you. ”