Page 24

H olden’s eyes shot open, and he went from dead asleep to wide awake in under a second.

What had woken him?

He looked down to see Clara’s body half on top of his and her back rising and falling in steady succession.

The last few days, they’d fallen into this easy rhythm of living together. Cooking in her kitchen. Sleeping in her bed.

But it wasn’t Clara who’d woken him just now.

He scanned the bedroom, only the dim glow of the moon poking through the curtains giving him a bit of light.

Nothing was out of place in the bedroom. He checked the closed door, the eerie quiet loud in his ears.

Then a sound cut through the silence—the click of the front door closing.

Someone was in the house.

Gently, he shook Clara’s shoulder.

She moaned and scrunched her eyes.

He set his lips close to her ear, his voice barely a whisper. “Clara, I need you to wake up.”

She opened her eyes with a frown. “Holden?”

“There’s someone in the house.”

Her eyes popped open wide and she tried to sit up, but he gripped her shoulder, keeping her in place. “We need to be quiet. Go to the bathroom and lock yourself in.”

“What about you?” she asked.

Without making a sound, he reached into the side drawer where he’d stashed his gun, before looking back to Clara. “I’m armed.”

Her eyes flared with fear, but she pushed the blankets back and climbed out of bed.

He moved with Clara across the room, waiting for the soft click of the bathroom lock before crossing to the door.

Another noise sounded from the hall, this time the light shuffle of movement.

He slipped back into the man he’d been in the military, calling on his training and maintaining his calm.

Silently, he turned the knob and opened the bedroom door, his Glock immediately pointing around the hall and living area. Even in the darkness, he saw everything. The hall table. The couch. The mugs they’d left on the coffee table.

But no intruder.

He slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him, his movement slow and deliberate. His bare feet didn’t make a sound against the wooden floorboards.

He was about to check Scarlett’s old room when he heard another shuffle, this time from the kitchen. Then the crackle of what sounded like plastic.

Quickly, he shifted to the opposite wall and stepped into the living room. When he reached the kitchen, he aimed his Glock. At first, it appeared empty. Then a figure stepped out of the pantry. A familiar figure.

“ Indie? ”

The woman screamed, a bag of balloons flying into the air as she grabbed her chest. “Oh my God, Holden! What the hell are you doing?”

“What am I doing?”

“Yes! You scared the life out of me! I think I’m dead. Am I dead?”

He lowered the pistol. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s Clara’s thirtieth birthday.” She frowned like she was the one confused. “I texted you last night.”

He hadn’t checked his phone since dinner. He and Clara had gotten…distracted. “You texted to tell me you were breaking into the house?”

“It’s not breaking in if I have a key.”

He disagreed. And he had a mind to remind Indie that they were already on high alert since Scarlett’s death, but he gritted his teeth. “Why are you here so early?”

“So I can blow up thirty balloons, set her favorite flowers in the middle of the table, and serve her almond croissants. That takes time.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, setting his gun on the island. It was too damn early for this.

Footsteps sounded behind him. “Indie?”

He cursed. “Clara, I told you to stay locked in the bathroom.”

“It’s just Indie.”

“You didn’t know that!”

Indie suddenly screeched, “Happy thirtieth!” She ran around the island and flung her arms around Clara.

Clara chuckled. “Thank you.”

When they separated, Indie grinned. “Now you need to march your butt back into the bedroom so I can set this room up, then pretend you didn’t see me and come out in thirty to sixty minutes and act surprised. Okay?”

“Okay.” Clara squeezed his arm before leaving the room.

Indie turned back to him. “And you should not pull a gun on me ever again. Colt taught me self-defense, and I will use it on you.”

He bit back the laugh. The woman was five foot nothing. “Have you spoken to him lately?”

There was a small tensing of Indie’s muscles. “No. Not for a while.”

Holden nodded. Colt was a Marine, and they hadn’t been in Amber Ridge at the same time a lot, so Holden didn’t know him well. But he’d seemed like a good guy.

He stepped forward. “Need help?”

“Nope. I’d like you to go and give Clara a big happy birthday kiss and keep her occupied for as long as this takes me. Oh—and take that gun with you. I don’t need to look at it. It’s killing the party vibe.”

“Shout if you need anything.”

He grabbed his Glock and returned to the bedroom, but it was empty and the bathroom door was closed. Once the weapon was secured in the bedside table again, he went to the bathroom to find Clara in front of the mirror while the shower ran.

He stepped inside and wrapped his arms around her waist, his lips going to her ear as he whispered, “Happy thirtieth birthday, Clara.”

A little shudder coursed down her spine. She leaned back into him and placed her hands over his. “I made it.”

He froze. Had she not expected to?

“When you’ve been diagnosed with stage four cancer, every year feels like a gift,” she clarified.

He pressed a light kiss to her neck. “You’ve got a hell of a lot more birthdays in your future.”

She turned in his arms, her gaze shifting between his eyes, the small smile slipping from her lips. “Will you be there to celebrate with me?”

She still doubted him. He shouldn’t be surprised. That fear still snuck up on him, usually when he least expected it. “I’ll be wherever you want me.”

“Here,” she whispered. “Right here by my side.”

He lowered his head and kissed her. “Wait here. I have something for you.”

In the bedroom, he pulled a small box from his suitcase.

When he returned to her, Clara frowned. “What is it?”

“Your present.”

She grinned. “You got me something?”

“It’s your birthday , Clara.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She looked down at the box and opened it. Then she gasped. “An amethyst gem…”

The gem sat on a gold chain and was identical to the one she’d lost.

Tears shone in her eyes when she looked up. “You remembered.”

“You never replaced it.”

“I’m not sure why. I guess it just never felt like the right time to replace it.”

It was a gift she’d bought herself after chemo because it signified growth and transformation. “It was important to you.”

She smiled as a tear ran down her cheek. “It was. Thank you.”

He took the necklace out of the box and slipped it around her neck.

She touched it before giving him a teary smile. “I think you’re the most thoughtful man I’ve ever met, Holden Forbes.”

“And the best-looking?”

She laughed as she leaned into him. “Definitely the best-looking.” Then she lifted to her toes and kissed him.

Clara walked beside Indie as they strode down the street, Holden and her mother trailing a bit behind. It was almost evening, and she’d spent her day eating croissants, laughing with her favorite people, and being a couch potato.

Last year, she’d gone bungee jumping, and the year before, she’d flown to Australia to see Uluru. But this year, with everything going on, a quiet birthday was exactly what she needed.

She had no idea where they were headed, just that Holden, Indie, and her mom had organized a dinner somewhere. All she knew was that it wasn’t a fancy restaurant, because that was something she’d firmly vetoed.

Today, she just wanted to spend relaxing time with the people she loved most.

“So…” Indie started slowly. “I’ve been holding this question in all day, but now that we’re finally semi-alone, I need an answer.”

Oh God, why did Clara’s belly flutter at that? “Okay.”

“I know that Holden’s been sleeping over to watch out for you. I also know from my early visit this morning that he’s sharing your bedroom. I know you’ve kissed, but—”

“Holden and I had sex.”

Indie’s eyes widened, and Clara squeezed her arm before she could scream.

“Shh! Mom and Holden are behind us.”

“You tell me that you finally lost your V-card, then ask me not to scream?” Indie shout-whispered. “Are you crazy? When?”

“The night Scarlett died…and every night since.”

“ That was like five nights ago! ”

“Shh!” Jesus Christ, did the woman want to alert the entire street?

“Why did you not immediately call me over and tell me over champagne and croissants?”

“You know why. Scarlett had just died, and celebrating anything didn’t feel right. Plus, you and I haven’t had a lot of alone time.”

Indie cringed. “I’m sorry. I haven’t checked in enough these last few days.”

“Don’t apologize. I know you’re going through your own stuff.”

“Still…I should have been there more.” Indie glanced over her shoulder, then back at Clara. “So…how was it?”

“It was amazing. Soft and slow and…it was Holden, you know? So it felt right.”

Indie’s arm tightened around hers. “Does this mean you’re together?”

“Yeah.”

A glimmer of tears shone in Indie’s eyes. “Oh, Clara. I’m so happy for you. You’ve loved him for so long, and you deserve to be happy. So that stuff about being scared—he’s over that?”

“He says he is.”

“But you don’t believe him?”

“Maybe I’m just projecting my fears. I don’t know. But time will tell.”

Indie frowned, silent for the next few steps.

Clara bumped her cousin’s hip. “Say it.”

“I don’t want to project what happened to me onto you, but…be careful. I know how much you love him. And losing someone you love that much hurts.” Real pain wound through Indie’s words.

Clara wanted to tell her friend that she wasn’t scared. But that wasn’t true. Something had changed in her after sleeping with Holden. Her love for him had deepened, something she hadn’t thought was possible.

She opened her mouth to respond but realized they were at The Tea House. And through the glass, she saw a dozen people. Her family. Clients who’d become friends. Even Mildred.