Page 77 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“You haven’t found anything else in the journals?”

“Only a few references to his work in progress at the time of the entries, a manuscript that sounds nothing like any of his published work I know about.”

He sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“If you and Alison want me to, I’ll forget about it and focus only on the journals.”

“But you won’t be happy about it.”

She laughed. “Am I that transparent?”

And that stubborn. Her determination and focus were among the things he was coming to admire about her, and he couldn’t bring himself to discourage her.

“I’ll help you look. I should have some time this weekend. We can start combing through some of the boxes containing Carson’s papers here.”

Her delighted expression made him wish he could reach across the cab of the pickup and kiss her again.

How was he supposed to put that kind of thought out of his head when she looked warm and soft and approachable in his baseball cap and her hoodie?

“Thank you,” she said, reaching for the door handle. “And thank you again for the hike. It was a lovely evening.”

“It was,” he agreed. Despite that kiss he suspected would haunt his dreams.

Chapter 26

Alison

As Ali walked into the Bison Brew House next to Clint Maclean, she felt as if she must be trapped in some weird teenage fever dream.

This was straight out of all her high school fantasies. Clint was as tall and muscular and gorgeous as ever, wearing a Western-cut dress shirt, Wranglers that looked brand-spanking-new, along with a big silver belt buckle and a pair of tooled-leather boots.

Ali hoped she looked good. She wore one of her favorite sundresses topped with a short red bolero-type sweater in case the air was too chilly atop the bar.

She could hear loud laughter and the clink of glasses as Clint opened the door, gesturing for her to go inside.

The place was packed with people. One of the newer hotspots in town and frequented by both tourists and locals, the Bison Brew House was known for live music, fun surroundings and its own microbrewed beer that people seemed to love.

When she had lived here, before she left for college, she had always been too young to go drinking.

Back then, most of her older friends hung out at the Sagebrush Saloon on the other side of town. Now it was slightly disreputable, dirty and dark, catering to the serious drinkers.

The newly renovated Bison Brew House was trendy and cute, with exposed brick and raw wood walls that looked great in social media videos and posts she had seen from friends.

After a quick scan of the room, she picked out a few people she knew and gave a friendly wave. It was obvious that Clint knew far more people than she did. In a short time, he had greeted about half of the customers, who all seemed delighted to see him. Were they surprised to seeherwith him? She couldn’t tell.

“We’re a little early for the band. You want to grab a drink? We could find a seat over there with Smitty and Tank. They’re waving us over.”

She followed the direction of his gaze and found a few guys she knew had played football with Clint. They weren’t hard to recognize, since they somehow looked exactly the same as they had back then.

They had been condescending and downright rude to the smart kids. She remembered they were particularly rough on Xander.

Xandork or the Brainiac. That was what they and their friends had called him.

While Xander hadn’t been weak, he had been skinny and preferred soccer to football, which didn’t go over well in the football-mad town.

Bridger Peak High hadn’t had much of a soccer team when they were in school. It still didn’t, from what she understood, but Xander had been a natural leader on the team. Still, that didn’t earn him many points with Clint and the other jocks.

She didn’t really want to sit with Smitty and Tank, but she couldn’t see any way out of it, especially when Clint started heading over to their table before she even had a chance to answer.

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