Page 6 of Chasing Shelter (Sparrow Falls #5)

ELLIE

I hid behind the curtain like some creepy stalker, watching as Trace made his way down my walk.

His steps slowed as he put his phone to his ear.

I didn’t miss the way the motion made his biceps flex.

My eyes traced the curve of the muscle, and I couldn’t help but imagine how easily he could lift me. How he could— nope, nope, nope.

I was not going there. This was a man-free zone. One that needed to stay that way for quite a while. And I knew all the reasons why. They were infinite at this point. So, why wasn’t I moving?

But I couldn’t help mapping Trace’s broad chest with my gaze as he turned toward his house, taking in the dusting of dark hair and broad shoulders.

I ripped myself away from the window. “No more being a dumb girl, Ellie.”

Talking to myself probably wasn’t a great sign, but it was better than drooling over a man who always seemed to look at me with a hint of wariness in his eyes. As if I were a wild animal that could turn on a dime. Maybe I was .

As I strode toward the kitchen, a new scent cut through the smoke. I sniffed, trying to catch it. Sandalwood and…black pepper?

I pulled the neck of the tee I had on to my nose and inhaled deeply. The aroma nearly made me stumble. Earthy and real. Unexpected. So very Trace .

I instantly released my grip on the cotton. “Now, you’re sniffing him?”

I was an idiot. I forced my feet to move deeper into the scent of smoke. That would burn out the witchcraft of Trace’s cologne.

Donning the one pair of dish gloves I had, I got to work cleaning up what I could.

The oven’s interior would have to wait until tomorrow when I could get the proper supplies and call a repair person out to make sure the fire hadn’t damaged anything important.

I’d replace the range if I had to. The last thing I wanted was poor Mrs. Henderson knowing I’d almost set her house on fire the first night. Not a good look.

As I finished mopping the floor where the extinguisher goo had landed, my phone dinged, cutting into the pop tunes no longer feeding my happy buzz. I leaned the mop against the counter and headed for the living room. If Trace had tattled on me to my brother, I was going to egg his house.

Disconnecting my phone from the speaker, I stopped the music and opened my messaging app.

The moment I saw the name at the top, my stomach sank.

I tapped on the text, seeing the string of messages I’d left unanswered.

They started with apologies, promises that it would never happen again, moving to petulant guilt trips, and finally anger.

Bradley

You break off our engagement so you can move into a trashy house in the middle of nowhere?

A chill skated down my spine, and my palms began to sweat. I suddenly felt far more exposed than I had standing in my kitchen with Trace in just a bra and underwear. I knew it was bait. Something to startle a response out of me when nothing else had worked.

I hadn’t told Bradley where I’d moved, but it wouldn’t be a stretch for him to assume I’d gone to Linc.

It also wouldn’t have been the first time Bradley had put eyes on me.

The driver he’d gifted me with in New York had reported my every move to my future husband.

But when I caught sight of the email dossier, I hadn’t said a word.

Just played the good little girl and kept my mouth shut. No longer.

I wasn’t about to let Bradley win. He’d already stolen too much from me.

No, not stolen. I’d given it away. I’d become exactly what my father demanded of me and what Bradley expected of his future wife.

I’d given up the pieces of me that made me who I was.

Now, I couldn’t even remember where I’d hidden them away.

My doorbell rang, making me jump and fumble my phone. I cursed as it hit the floor, part of me hoping it was smashed to bits so I could become one of those people who lived without one.

When I snatched it up, I saw that I wasn’t so lucky. But as the bell rang again, I realized I might need to call 9-1-1. I unlocked the device and crept toward the door, hitting those three numbers on the screen, just in case.

“Who is it?” I called through the door.

“Firehouse Pizza,” a youngish male voice called. “Got a delivery.”

“I didn’t order anything.”

“It’s a gift. From your next-door neighbor. Veggie lover’s pie.”

I stilled, a stinging sensation taking root in my nose. I carefully unlocked the door and opened it. The guy standing on my front porch looked no older than seventeen. As his gaze swept over me, stilling on my bare legs, I remembered what I was wearing.

I winced, heat hitting my cheeks. “Sorry, I, uh, wasn’t exactly expecting anyone.”

The teenager grinned. “Don’t gotta apologize to me. Never gonna mind a beautiful woman answering the door in just a tee.” One corner of his mouth kicked up further. “A tee that looks a hell of a lot like one of Sheriff Colson’s.”

Oh, crap. That was just what I needed. Some rumor that I was banging the sheriff getting back to Linc or the Colsons.

“It’s not like that.”

“Never is,” the kid said, amusement lacing his words .

“My oven caught on fire and…never mind. It’s a long story.”

He chuckled. “Well, hopefully, the pizza helps. I’m Steve. Welcome to Sparrow Falls.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“We deliver for free within town limits, and we’ve got more than just pizza. We’ve got pasta and salads and all sorts of stuff. I threw in a brownie for free because I knew you just moved in.”

That shiver down my spine was back as I scanned the street. There was no sign of anyone watching.

“Sorry,” Steve said, wincing. “That probably sounds creepy if you’re not from a small town. Are you?”

I shook my head. “New York.”

“City?” he squeaked.

“Manhattan. All my life.” One that carried more scars than I wanted to admit.

“Whoa. Wait, you Linc’s sister?”

Of course, my brother had already made friends within the teen gossip mill. “I am.”

“He’s the coolest. Paid me a hundred bucks to bring pizza out to Arden’s place when she was recovering. That’s baller.”

It was my turn to laugh, and the release of tension was more than welcome. “He’s not opposed to a bribe now and then.”

“I am very bribable.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“Thanks.” Steve shot me a charming smile. “You need a tour around town, just stop by the shop and let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I took the pizza from his hands. “Thanks for this.”

“Anytime. Just call.”

“Will do.”

I shut the door and locked the deadbolt, the scent of cheese and veggies filling the air. My stomach rumbled, and that stinging sensation in my nose was back. Trace must’ve been on the phone with the pizza shop as he walked away from my house. Trying to remedy the one thing he could .

It was such a simple gesture. Nothing over-the-top like Bradley’s apologies or my father’s bribes. This was simple kindness. An effort to ease the sting of a rough day in a new place. But it meant more to me than anything else I’d ever been given.

I suddenly didn’t want to eat the pizza. I wanted to find a way to preserve it for eternity so I could remember how this felt. My stomach growled as if to argue with me.

“Okay, okay.” I carried the pie into the kitchen and set it on the table.

The room still smelled like smoke, but I had nowhere else to eat, so it would have to do.

Flipping open the box lid, I snapped a picture of the pizza, marking the memory.

Not for social media or to send to anyone. Just so I would remember.

Before I could sit, my phone dinged again.

Bradley

Pizza? Really? Not sure you can afford those calories.

My blood ran cold, and I suddenly didn’t have any appetite at all.