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Lachlan Calloway stood behind my stool, and up close, he seemed even more imposing than I remembered. His presence filled the space around us, commanding and protective all at once.

I had no idea if he remembered me at all. Nothing suggested he did.

Buck’s hand was still on my back, and I saw Lachlan’s gaze drop to it, then back to my face. Something dangerous flickered in his expression—a coldness that transformed his features from handsome to absolutely lethal.

“We’re fine,” Buck said, but his hand on my back slid away. “Just having a conversation.”

“Is that right?” Lachlan’s attention shifted to me, and I felt pinned under his stare.

“I’m fine,” I managed.

Buck was smart enough to know not to push his luck. “Guess I’ll see you around, Carol,” he muttered and stood, slinking toward the other end of the bar.

Lachlan watched him go, then turned back to me. “Mind if I sit?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. He slid onto Buck’s abandoned stool, and suddenly, the space between us felt charged with possibility and danger in equal measure. “I’m Lachlan Calloway.”

He didn’t remember me. There was no reason on earth that should hurt me, but somehow it did.

“I’m C?—”

“You’re Piper Matthews. I know exactly who you are.”

Chapter 2

Piper

My heart hammeredagainst my ribs as Lachlan said my name. He remembered me. After eight years, he actually remembered me.

The sound of my real name on his lips sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the mountain air seeping through the tavern’s windows. For months now, I’d been Carol or Lisa or whatever name seemed safest in the moment. Hearing “Piper” felt like putting on clothes that actually fit.

“You do remember,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I remember you.” His brown eyes held mine, and I could see genuine warmth there—no pity, no disgust, just… recognition. Like I was someone worth remembering. “Piper Matthews. You lived on Elm Street with your family. Your bike chain used to come off all the time.”

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it, rusty from disuse. The sound surprised me. When was the last time I’d laughed?Really laughed, not the fake sound I used to deflect attention or smooth over awkward moments with strangers.

“That stupid bike. I swear it had a vendetta against me.”

“I fixed it for you once. You were maybe ten years old, sitting on the curb looking like the world had ended because you couldn’t get home.”

I couldn’t believe he remembered. I’d been crying that day—not about the bike, but because I’d come home from school to find my mother sporting a fresh black eye and my father in one of his rages. The broken chain had just been the final straw.

But Lachlan had knelt down on that dirty sidewalk in his good clothes and gotten grease on his hands fixing my bike. Then he’d walked me halfway home to make sure it didn’t break again. He’d been sixteen. Most sixteen-year-olds were too self-involved to do much of anything.

It had meant everything to me. Knowing he remembered it too made something clench in my heart.

But memories weren’t going to get me food. I pressed my lips together and took a sip of my soda, using the moment to scan the room again. I needed to figure out who might be carrying cash and might be distracted enough that I could lift some from them.

“So what was the celebration about?” I asked, nodding toward the crowded table where his friends kept raising their glasses.

Lachlan’s whole face lit up, transforming him from merely handsome to absolutely devastating. “We were celebrating me officially being named sheriff of Garnet Bend.”

Sheriff. My blood went cold for a heartbeat before I forced myself to smile. Of course he would be sheriff. Of course the one person in this town who’d shown me kindness had grown up to be the very person whose job it was to arrest people like me.

“That’s incredible,” I said and meant it, despite the irony. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I can hardly believe it myself. Charlie Garcia finally decided to retire after thirty years, and the town council chose me to replace him.”