Page 126 of Shadows of You

Jonesy chuckled. “Well, that’s sayin’ something considering what you’ve been through these past few weeks.”

“You know, sometimes going through the hard stuff just makes you appreciate the good things more,” I said as I dragged my rag across another table.

Something flickered in Elsie’s eyes that told me she understood. “There’s something powerful in finding purpose to the pain.”

I nodded, wondering what she’d been through. I kept hoping she might open up, but she never did. Still, she hadn’t left Cedar Ridge. Maybe she was trying to find the courage to be a part of a community again.

“It’s finding those little silver linings,” I agreed.

Like the fact that all the events of the past month had brought Roan into my life. Into my home. Into my bed. And he wanted to stay.

The urge to giddy-squeal embarrassingly loud was strong. He hadn’t said anything about officially moving in, but I wasn’t sure what else,“I’m not going anywhere,”could mean.

The bell over the door jingled, and I turned to welcome the newcomer. Only it wasn’t a customer. It was a guy who looked to be in his early twenties, carrying a massive spray of red roses.

“Aspen Barlow?” he asked.

“That’s me,” I said, crossing to him.

Elsie let out a low whistle. “That man of yours is not messing around.”

“Thanks,” I said to the guy, taking the flowers and setting them on the counter. I frowned at the arrangement. This didn’t really seem like a Roan choice. He was more of a wildflowers-he-picked-on-a-hike kind of guy. But maybe I was wrong.

I pulled the card out of the holder and opened it.

RED FOR ALL THE BLOOD OF YOURS THAT SHOULD’VE SPILLED. NOW IT WILL.

38

ROAN

I strodeinto the conference room to find Nash stuffing his face with a sandwich while Lawson combed through a file on the table.

Nash lifted his chin. “Hey, man.”

I grimaced at him. “Your face is covered in mustard.”

He shrugged and kept eating. “I’m hungry.”

“You say that like it’s a new revelation,” Lawson muttered. “You’re always hungry.”

I lowered myself into the chair next to Nash and nabbed a potato chip.

His hand smacked down on mine. “Do not eatmypotato chips.”

“Get a grip. There are more in the vending machine,” I grumbled.

“Then go get yourself some. These are my favorites. They’re maple bacon. Mads orders them special for me.”

I jerked my hand free and popped the chip into my mouth. “Mmm. They are good.”

“You’re a bastard,” Nash growled.

“Children,” Lawson warned. “Please dial it back before everyone else gets here. I don’t want to have to stick both of you in the drunk tank.”

Nash scrunched up his nose. “It smells like puke in there. I’d never be able to finish my sandwich.”

I snorted. “Always has his priorities.”

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