the other milestone of life that occurred on August 28.
The date had rolled around a little over a month ago, less difficult but no less meaningful for Declan and his whole family. Not once on that day had he thought of it as the one and only time he and Evie had sex.
But he couldn’t help remembering when he saw her…and wishing it had all turned out so damn different. If they hadn’t gone camping that night, if Dad hadn’t taken his shift, if life had dealt them different cards, what would have happened?
He wouldn’t have been killed in the fire because he’d have never been sent in first, not back then, less than a year out of probation. So…would he and Evie be married? Would Dad be retiring and helping Declan prepare to take his place as chief? Would she have moved back and started a practice here? Would they have…kids?
God, she’d have been a spectacular mom. And he’d have been…content.
Coming around the last corner, he looked up to the hill, forcing himself to stare at Gloriana House, trying to look at it objectively.
Painted in shades of deep yellow and creamy white, all trimmed with dark brown accents, the three-story manor stood like a monument to an era gone by. Its classic mansard roof draped over the top floor like icing on a cake, and graceful Palladian-arched windows offered maximum light and balance. Wrought-iron railings wrapped around the first and second floors, each supported by stately white columns. A single octagonal-shaped tower rose up from one corner, topped by a pointed turret. The locals liked to say that tower was built by Thad Jr. to be the closest thing to heaven in all of Bitter Bark.
Reaching out on the other side—a second-story veranda that covered a large patio underneath.
That would be the closest thing to hell.
New perspective, Dec. New perspective.
After all, it wasn’t the same overhang that had collapsed and killed his father after rags soaked in linseed oil had combusted into a blaze on the patio underneath it. Penelope Hewitt, Evie’s grandmother, had rebuilt the whole wing in keeping with the historical architecture. No doubt there was still a first-floor sunroom, once Evie’s mother’s painting studio, adjacent to that patio, and a bedroom above it that opened up to an upstairs veranda. But the physical structure was not the same, and Declan had to remember that.
“Plus, you’ll be there,” he said to the dog as he turned in to the drive. “And maybe you can keep talking to Evie for me, since I apparently suck at it.”
He spotted Evie’s compact SUV in the driveway. She stood next to it, looking at her phone, waiting for him, bathed in light and surrounded by that glow that always drew him closer.
No, it wasn’t that he couldn’t talk around her. He simply couldn’t find the words that she so deserved to hear. He didn’t even know what they were.
She looked up and waved, a breeze fluttering her dark hair.
How about… You’re beautiful and I loved you.
Loved.
“Past tense, right? With a D. Right, pooch?”
Pooch didn’t answer.
Declan stared at Evie, feeling an ancient and familiar kick in his gut and that ache he remembered waking up with one morning in the mountains. He’d known for sure at that moment that they were meant to be. Then…life and pain and family changed everything. Well, it changed him.
And he didn’t have the first clue how to explain that to her, but if they were going to spend time together, he’d damn well better figure it out.
Shaking off the thought, he took a deep breath, parked, and climbed out, opening the back cab as Evie approached. “The pupper is crashed.”
“Happy juice,” she said, reaching in to pet him. “Any chance you could carry him?”
“Of course.”
“I called Granddaddy and told him what’s happening, and he insisted on dressing and coming downstairs to greet you. You’d think I was bringing home a prince.”
He gestured to the dog. “You sort of are.”
“Pretty sure he didn’t mean the dog. Come on. I’ll open the door for you and then grab the bed,” she said. “Then we’ll get the rest of his stuff.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He leaned over to reach for Lusky, but Evie put her hand on Declan’s arm, stopping him.
“Dec.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I know this isn’t easy.”
For a moment, he didn’t speak, but got a little more lost in her eyes. Were they always that hauntingly silvery-gray-blue with a hint of sapphire around the iris?
“And I