Page 70 of Lone Wolf in Lights
“Willow, sweetheart,” Diane interjected. She gave a yawn so fake it was laughable. “It’s been a day. I think we should get some rest.”
She nudged her husband, and Cliff chimed in, stretching, not looking tired at all. “Yes, just exhausted.”
Diane nodded at her husband, mischief twinkling in her eyes as she turned to Aubrey. “I’m sure Willow and Eli can clean up the rest of this. Would you mind driving us back to the house?”
“Of course, not a problem at all,” Aubrey said, obviously reading between the lines. “Come on, I’ll call a taxi since we’ve all been drinking.”
“I can drive you all home,” Gunner interjected. He pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ve only had one drink.”
Aubrey hesitated. Her lips pursed in a reluctant frown. “Okay, yeah, that’d be great.”
Eli wondered what her hesitation was, but he nodded his gratitude at Gunner’s offer. He wasn’t quite ready to end the night, and he didn’t mind Willow’s parents were totally setting up for them to be alone. Hell, he appreciated it. They needed to talk.
Turning to Aubrey, Gunner motioned toward the door. “Shall we?”
After goodbye hugs all around, and as they left, Eli felt the space around him shift, the atmosphere subtly changing as if the very walls were conspiring to push him closer to Willow.
It wasn’t much longer before Jaxon stood, offering Charly his hand. “We should get going too,” he said.
Charly turned to Willow. “You’re really all right to clean up?”
Willow nodded, her cheeks turning pink. “There’s not that much more to do. We’re good.”
“All right. Good night, you guys,” Charly said, as she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. “And thanks again for today. Gosh, the Christmas market was a total blast. Timber Falls really knows how to do Christmas.”
“You’re not wrong,” Jaxon said and then gave Willow and Eli a wave. “Night.”
“Drive safe,” Eli said.
As the door closed behind them, it was as if the world outside ceased to exist. The bar felt more intimate, the space between him and Willow charged with a new energy.
“Looks like it’s just us now,” she murmured, a hint of playfulness dancing through her words.
“Yeah, just us,” Eli echoed.
They were alone, truly alone, besides all the million things he needed to say.
Twenty-Two
Time seemed to slow down as Willow headed behind the bar, wiping down the bar’s polished surface, while Eli’s boots scuffed against the wooden floor as he began to collect empty glasses. Her mind felt clear and steady, and she knew the conversation ahead of her was going to change everything. For the better.
She just had no idea where to start.
After he returned from taking the glasses into the back, he headed straight for her. Nervously, she wiped the bar down again, before he stepped forward, gently taking the cloth from her and placing it in the sink.
“Willow,” he said tenderly. He moved to stand in front of her, but gave her a little space. “We need to talk.”
She leaned back against the icebox, held his emotion-packed gaze. “We do.”
He watched her closely a moment and then sighed heavily, removing his cowboy hat to carve a hand through his hair. “I’ve spent a lot of time running,” he confessed. “Running from pain, from memories, from the parts of me that felt too broken to fix.”
The heaviness in his gaze had her instinctively reaching for his hand, urging him on with the silent support she knew he needed.
“Betty—” his voice hitched slightly. “She took me to this group for folks dealing with grief.”
Willow felt her eyes widen. “Did she really?”
He nodded. “And you know what?” Softness entered his tone. “She talked my ear off about not letting grief bury me, and to realize the beauty that is the present and to not forget to live, and...her advice struck a chord with me. It made me realize I have two choices. Live in the pain or live in happiness.” His thumb brushed across the back of her hand. “I want to live in happiness. I went to the jail. I visitedhim.”
