Page 30 of 500 First Editions (The Romantics #3)

AUTUMN

THE WOMAN IN BLACK

S hepherd Winslow was a simple man. He liked people and coffee, and didn’t mind if the coffee was bad as long as the people were good.

It made sense that he wouldn’t have wanted a big funeral service in a church. The cemetery was beautiful, with clear blue skies and lush grass as far as the eye could see.

“Sit tight,” Ryan said as we slowed to a stop along the narrow road where everyone was parallel parking, and slid out from behind the wheel. He rounded the car and opened my door.

“Putting on a good show,” I said as I stood and adjusted the hem of my dress.

Ryan’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t deny it.

Mourners cloaked in black floated across the cemetery, heading for the tent that had been set up over Shep’s burial plot.

While Ryan had thoughtfully packed his suit before we left New York, I had to dig out an old black dress from my storage unit so I could match the wraiths.

“Are your mom and Amber coming?” he asked as we crossed the first swath of grass.

I paused and dug my sunglasses out of my purse, then slid them on. “Your guess is as good as mine. I texted them last night to make sure they knew what time the service was.”

Guilt ate at me for the comment I had made about him putting on a show. Truth was, Ryan had been nothing but compassionate and supportive since we had arrived in Kansas.

“You look really nice,” I said as I found his hand and slipped my fingers between his. “It reminds me of what you were wearing at Rom-Con.”

Even though it was somewhere near a million degrees outside, he was in a three-piece suit with a sweater vest. I had come to learn that Ryan wearing glasses was the rule, and his contacts were just for when he was recording his podcast or creating content for his social media pages.

I hadn’t quite figured out why. His glasses were hot.

Today was a glasses day, which made it just a little easier. I got my version of Ryan. Not the one that was available for public consumption.

“Why are you always so surprised that I can dress well?” he said with a curious smile.

I was careful to walk parallel with the headstones as we neared the tent.

“It wasn’t what I expected when we met. The only side of yourself that you show online is the feet-up-on-the-desk, tattooed playboy.

The night we met in the check out line, you had your tattoos covered.

The next day, you were in a sweater vest and glasses. You kept surprising me.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“A good thing. I . . .”

He smirked. “Yes?”

“I think you’re hot,” I clipped. “There. I said it.”

“Yeah, I know. I see the way you look at me, cupcake.” Ryan gave one of my pink curls a teasing tug.

“And there’s the playboy I know and hate,” I grumbled as I nudged him with my elbow.

“You like it,” Ryan whispered as the shadow of the tent fell over us.

Before I could retort, arms wrapped around me from behind. It couldn’t have been Lisa, because there were four arms banded around my body.

“What the—” I turned and found Wander and Whitney standing under the tent. Their husbands, Jack and Miles, stood a respectful distance.

“What are you guys doing here?” Tears flooded my eyes, and I was thankful I had put my sunglasses on. “How did you even know?”

Wander pulled me in for a hug. “Remember that time I tried to quit and ghost, and you showed up at my house and slept on my floor? Consider this payback.”

“We would have been here earlier, but our flights got delayed and we had to come straight to the cemetery,” Whitney said as she stole a hug of her own. “How are you holding up?” Her eyes danced between Ryan and me, and she smirked. “Or do I even have to ask?”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, and the girls laughed.

“Hey, champ,” Miles said as he pulled me in for a backbreaking hug. He was in one of his fancy, tailored bodyguard suits and a pair of black Crocs. “Long time, no see.”

“We missed you at Rom-Con,” I said.

Jack tugged at his neatly pressed collar. I hadn’t gotten a chance to know him as well as I knew Miles, since Miles often traveled with Whitney for events. But Wander was in love with him, and I couldn’t deny that the hot firefighter thing had its appeal.

But that wasn’t what appealed to me at the moment.

Ryan’s palm was warm against the small of my back as he extended his hand to Miles. “We haven’t officially met, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Miles shook his hand. “Miles Zhou. Whitney’s husband, Willow’s bestie, and father to the first Zhou duckling.”

“Congratulations.”

Miles grinned. “And thanks to my super special skills, I can kill you in under fifteen seconds if Willow gives me the signal.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow and looked at me. “You have a ‘kill Ryan’ signal?”

I mimed zipping my lips.

“Don’t worry about it, man.” Miles gave Ryan’s arm a fraternal slap.

“I’ll make it painless. Kind of. Honestly, I don’t know.

I’ve never been dead. On the upside, your death will be quick.

And since there’s already a hole in the ground, it’ll make disposing of you a lot easier.

Shep seemed like a practical guy. I don’t think he’d mind a two-for-one. ”

I pressed my fingers to my lips to keep from laughing as Ryan paled.

“The first time we met, he asked me what size body bag I wore,” Jack said as he extended his hand to Ryan.

“Ryan Ford,” he said, and they shook hands.

“Jack Wharton.” He tipped his head to Wander. “I belong to Aurora.”

Miles glared at him, and it nearly knocked me off balance. I had never seen him frown before. “What’s the first rule of author husbandry?” Miles clipped.

Jack looked up at the sky and silently prayed for patience. “Always use pen names in public,” he grumbled.

“You make it sound like fight club,” Ryan quipped.

Miles cracked his knuckles and grinned. “Fight club is hella fun.”

A hug snuck up from behind and I knew, without a doubt, that it was Lisa. “I’m only going to ask once because it’s the funeral. But how are you holding up?”

Lisa let out a sharp breath as she plopped her sunglasses on top of her head and dabbed her red-rimmed eyes. “I thought about getting a bus ticket this morning.”

“No one would have blamed you in the slightest.”

“I would have blamed myself.” She let out a sharp breath as she glanced at the casket, then lowered her sunglasses back over her eyes. “Life sucks, but you can’t run from it.”

“He loved you a lot,” I whispered as I blinked back tears.

Ryan’s arm banded around my back as he tucked me into his side.

“Thanks for being here,” Lisa said as she peered around me. “Want to introduce me to your entourage?”

“Sorry, we’re funeral crashers,” Whitney said as she gave Lisa a quick hug. “I’m Whitney West. This is my husband, Miles.”

Wander followed her lead, giving the same introduction for her and Jack. “We’re so sorry for your loss. Willow talked about Shep all the time. He sounds like an incredible person.”

“Thank you,” Lisa whispered.

The minister tapped her on the shoulder to let her know that he would begin whenever she was ready.

For some reason, it didn’t feel right sitting by Lisa and her parents or Shep’s parents, though all of them had always felt like family. I stuck with the WWs. The six of us took our seats, a few rows behind them.

Whitney came armed with packs of tissues and passed them out like candy. “Fair warning. I’m going to cry. Everything makes me cry. So, if you’re a sympathetic crier, just look away,” she said.

I took a tissue, even though I knew it would be a soaked, sopping mess in just a few minutes.

As the minister began with his opening remarks, Ryan glanced over his shoulder, then tapped my leg. “Your mom’s here,” he whispered.

I turned and spotted her immediately.

She hadn’t joined the crowd under the tent to pay her respects.

Instead, she lingered on the outskirts of the hill, standing in the shade of a beautiful oak tree.

Her hands were folded in front of her, lying on top of her black skirt and gray blouse.

She wore sunglasses, but I would know my mother anywhere.

“Amber’s not,” I whispered back as I turned to face the front.

Ryan draped his arm around my shoulders and tucked me into his side. Even though it was sweltering, I leaned into his warmth.

The casket was a plain pine box, polished and lacquered, with sunflowers and greenery in a spray on top.

It didn’t feel real.

It felt like that box was empty.

It felt like this was a fever dream or some sick, twisted joke.

It felt like, at any moment, he’d pop out from behind the preacher and scare the shit out of everyone just to get a laugh.

Given the extent of the crash injuries, Lisa had decided to forgo the viewing and open casket.

I always hated viewings, but maybe that’s what gave people closure.

What I wouldn’t have given to see him one last time.

This had to be bizarre for Ryan. He was at a funeral for a man he had never met, with a woman he had known for barely a month.

It was like going to a wedding on a first date.

But there he was. Sitting beside me with his arm around me. Fingers traced abstract shapes on my shoulder as he paid his respects to a complete stranger.

I glanced over my shoulder again to see if my mom was just lingering by the tree because Amber was late. But my mom was still alone in the distance, and Amber was nowhere to be seen.

I turned back to pay attention to the minister as he neared the peak of his short speech. “Shepherd Winslow was a loving husband, friend, and father. He cared deeply for his family and community, often using his time on the road to call someone who he thought might need a listening ear.”

I lifted my sunglasses and dabbed my eyes with the tissue Whitney gave me. I liked that the preacher had called Shep a loving father. He had been like a father to Amber and me. He deserved the title.

As far as I was concerned, he was.

Lisa didn’t seem fazed. She just stared blankly at the space between the suspended casket and the open burial plot.

From her seat beside me, Wander reached over and held my hand. I still couldn’t believe they were here. Were they staying in town? Were they going to sleep on my floor the way Whitney and I had crashed at Wander’s? How did they even get the funeral details?

At the preacher’s signal, Lisa stood and placed a sunflower on top of the casket, then laid her hand on the smooth wood, spending one last moment with Shep.

I followed the crowd and bowed my head as the minister prayed for peace in the coming days and weeks, but kept my eyes closed long after he said, “Amen.”

When I opened them and turned around, the service had concluded and my mother was gone.