A Really Long Time Since He’d Felt Warm

“Have you brought me here to kill me and dispose of the body?” Wes asked Addie as they pulled up to an old stone building

that looked like something out of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid . The metal bars across the windows and the one small bulb lighting the door added to the movie-set feel—which, of course,

in this area of Colorado, worked. It was also entirely possible that rather than just being designed to replicate a movie

set, it was an actual historical location where Butch and Sundance had hidden.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say I have completely ruled it out, but no,” Addie replied, “that’s not the primary item on the

agenda for the evening. As of now.”

He used his arm to wipe away the fog on his window and studied the building in front of him for context clues. Milo’s was written in a modern cursive font on a small shingle to the side of the door, but apart from that, there was nothing.

Though the longer he stared at the building, and then as he finally began looking up and down the sidewalk and spotted the

other storefronts, awareness took hold.

“Did this used to be the day care?”

“Good memory.”

“So what is Milo’s?” he asked.

“It’s the best food within a hundred miles is what it is. Cole’s restaurant.”

“As in he owns it?”

Addie nodded. “Owns it, chefs it—is chef a verb?—remodeled it, turned it into a destination location... you name it. It’s the first place in Adelaide Springs that’s

a little less ‘the greatest generation’ and a little more ‘the greatest generation’s deadbeat grandkids make good.’ He’s going

to have a Michelin star or two before long. I just know it.”

Funny. He’d never made any guesses in his mind about what Cole Kimball might have gone on to do with his life, but if he’d

been forced to predict something back when they were still kids, he probably would have landed on police officer or park ranger,

maybe. He had always been a protector. The de facto leader of them all who seemed to carry with him all the responsibility

that the other four were more than happy to shirk.

The sound of Addie’s door creaking open caused him to follow suit. As soon as he met her on the sidewalk, he threw his hand

up and then quickly unbuttoned his coat, pulled it off, and reached it out to her. “Can you hold this a second?”

She chuckled as she took it and laid it over her arm. “What are you doing?”

Wes buttoned one more button toward his collar, so he was exposed only to his collarbone rather than the top of his chest, and freed the tail of the shirt from his slacks.

He pulled the rest of the shirt from its neatly tucked-in confinement as he headed back to the truck, then slipped out of his suit jacket and opened the passenger-side door.

As he carefully folded the jacket over the seat back—he may have been trying to be more casual, but the suit was Tom Ford, and he was no monster—he spotted Addie’s scarf and gloves on the bench seat and grabbed them.

And as the wind whipped up his shirttail and attacked his exposed skin, serving as a painful reminder of just how cold it was and that sometimes tucked-in shirts served a dual purpose, he slipped the gloves and scarf under his chin long enough to roll his shirtsleeves midway up his forearms and then shut the door and hurried back over to her.

“A little more ‘man of the people’?” he asked, holding his arms out to fully reveal his new look. He smiled at her, but she

just stared at him, and he tried to interpret her silence. The way her bottom lip was being bitten to within an inch of its

life made him fairly certain she was holding back some snarky comment or other. Ah well. If that was it, he appreciated the

effort she was putting into not making too much fun of him.

“Not very convincing, huh? I know.” He found the two ends of her scarf and held one end in each hand, then took a couple of

steps toward her and curved it gently around her neck, circling his hand around her head once to loop it. And then, in a move

even more familiar than tying a Windsor knot and just as ancient, he brushed his fingers around the back of her neck and tenderly

freed her chin-length strands from the confines of the scarf.

Oh. Sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess.

Those were the words in his brain, but he couldn’t get his mouth to say them. Not when he still had a lock of her hair dancing

in the wind between his fingers and he couldn’t quite figure out how to pull away at an appropriate pace. And definitely not

when he could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks without even touching her skin. Not when he was beginning to wonder

if he’d grievously misinterpreted what it was that her teeth were attempting to hold her lips back from.

“Ahem.”

Well, that sure helped him figure out some quicker pacing. He stepped away from her and turned to the door, where the sound had come

from, and in an instant was assaulted by the comfort that accompanied the best, happiest, most worry-free moments of his life.

Cole and Laila. Even as kids, they’d all so rarely said one of their names without the other, and there they were, standing

together, looking so different than he remembered them in the ways that didn’t matter, but exactly the same in all the ways

that did.

Laila was staring straight at Wes, tears in her eyes, while Cole’s gaze darted from Wes to Addie and back again.

He was still the protector, Wes understood immediately.

They’re her friends now. Not yours. It was important that he remember that, he knew, rather than slipping into a false sense of comfort and nostalgia within

himself. They were kind enough to want to have dinner with him... to see for themselves and make their own determinations

as to who he had become. He was grateful for that. But he couldn’t lose sight of the fact that he’d abandoned them too. And

not only were they left with their own pain and anger and resentment and who knew what else, they’d also been the ones left

behind to try to help Addie pick up the pieces of the world Wes had shattered.

“I, um...” Wes cleared his throat. How could he begin this conversation?

Great place you’ve got here.

’Bout time you two got together.

Thanks for the gloves, Laila. They’re really great .

He might have gone with that one if not for the fact that he wasn’t wearing the gloves. They were in the pocket of his coat,

which Addie was still holding.

Yep. That’s right. That’s why I’ve lost feeling in at least the top two layers of skin.

And the gloves in his hands were Addie’s lavender ones. He should really get those to her. She was probably freezing. Although

her hands were tucked under his coat, so maybe she was okay.

He was freezing. Maybe that was why he couldn’t think. Maybe that was why all he wanted to do was run away and find warmth and

curl up in a ball and...

Warmth.

Nothing was more prevalent in Laila’s eyes than warmth. Concern, yes, but coated in warmth. Uneasiness, sure, but bolstered

by warmth. Pain and sadness and skepticism and nervousness, all engaged in battle with warmth. Warmth and, if he wasn’t mistaken,

hope . And whereas Addie’s eyes (and words) had cautioned him, from his very first moments back in town, that she would not entertain his despair over what he had done to her, Laila’s eyes seemed to be inviting him to join her at the corner of regret and reconciliation.

“I’m so sorry, you guys.” Wes choked down a sob fighting its way out of his chest, or from so much deeper. “I’m so sorry for

what I did. For how I did it. I’m so sorry for everything.”

Laila was there before he could even register what was happening, and he had to pull his arms out from between them in order

to return her embrace. Wes rested his head on the top of hers and held her and even found himself comforting her as she gave

in to the emotion—rubbing her back, smoothing down her hair, being sure not to dribble snot onto her. And then, best of all,

laughing with her when he voiced his concerns about dribbling snot on her.

He was pretty sure the smile plastered on his face would never leave, and by the time they pulled apart from each other and

he looked up, he had actually been lulled into the comfort he’d warned himself against. He’d been so sure he was about to

share the perfection of the moment with Addie and Cole, but they were gone.

“Where’d they go?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Laila looked behind her. “Oh. Well, you know.” She began bouncing on the balls of her feet now that the two of them

were no longer sharing body warmth. “It might take Cole a little longer.”

“Oh.” This was not a surprise, Wes reminded himself. There was nothing at all unexpected in what Laila said. “Of course. Sure.”

More than anything right then, he wished he knew if Addie had gone in after Cole, to comfort him, or if it had been the other

way around.

“Come on.” Laila tucked herself under his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Let’s go inside where it’s warm.”

He really hoped that would be the case.