bad taste in your mouth. But you’ll do it for Gray, because he’s everything to you.”
Aidan made a point of looking around. “What, are we filming a chick flick? What’s with all the feels?”
But Hudson was on a roll, and once the guy had a bone he never let go. “And even though you think Jacob wants to be left alone, you’ll help me find him for the sole reason that I need to. And then there’s Kenna. You brought her here to Cedar Ridge when she crashed and burned even though she was afraid of being an imposition—which she was—but you never let her feel it.”
“You done?” Aidan asked.
“No. Because then there’s whatever it is you’re shoving deep down and pretending isn’t eating at you.”
“That’s a load of bullshit,” Aidan said, even though he knew. Christ, he knew.
Lily.
Hud shook his head. “It’s not, and you know it. So do me a favor and remember how screwed up you are too the next time you feel the urge to save me.”
Aidan felt his temper rise, but he reminded himself that’s what Hudson wanted. A diversion away from himself. He wasn’t going to get it. “This isn’t about saving you. It’s about Jacob.” Or it had been before he and Hud had provided the evening’s entertainment for the bar patrons. “We’ll find him and bring him home,” Aidan promised.
Hudson’s eyes darkened with his own temper that barely hid his grief. “And if we can’t?”
“We will.”
“What if we’re too late?”
“We won’t be,” Aidan said grimly, and prayed to God that would be true as he pulled out cash to cover their bill.
“I still want to knock your ass into next week,” Hudson said as he stood.
“Ditto,” Aidan assured him.
It was noon a few days later when Lily took a break from waxes and facials and hairdos for a quick escape to the back room that was office, staff room, and kitchen all in one. Gray must have approved the renovations she’d requested. They’d picked out paint colors and she was getting new shelving in as well. She’d been working on a new layout and, over a sandwich, she played with it some more on the computer. Then she checked her phone and found exactly zero emails—sigh—and a missed call from her mom that brought panic. She and her mom talked about once a month—unless there was an emergency. And as there’d been a few of those—Ashley, her dad—Lily still felt her heart drop whenever her mom showed up on her phone screen.
“Lily!” her mom said in delight when Lily rang her back. “Is that you?”
“Hi, Mom, yes it’s me. Are you all right?”
“Of course I am. Why do you ask me that every single time I call you?”
Lily let out a shaky breath and tried to calm her racing heart.
“Lily?”
“I don’t know,” she finally said, trying to channel Aidan and sound calm. “Force of habit?”
“Darling, it’s been ten years,” her mom said softly. “You’ve got to let it go. It’s okay to let it go.”
“I have,” Lily said. Lied. “Totally and completely. One hundred percent.”
“Do you mean one hundred percent minus one hundred percent?”
Lily let out a low laugh. “Let’s talk about you, okay? What are you up to?”
“Nice subject change. But because I’m in South Africa I’m going to allow it. Did you know they serve fried caterpillars and sheep heads here as a delicacy?”
“Yummy.” Lily still wasn’t used to the changes in her mom. Once upon a time, Donna Danville had been born and raised right here in Cedar Ridge, Colorado. She’d married and had two kids and worked just about 24/7 at Mt. Rose, never leaving the only town she knew and loved.
Until she’d lost half her family in the span of a single week from hell.
Lily and her mom had had many talks over the years about how Donna wanted Lily to let go of the past enough to move on. Lily always assured her she had, telling her she had a full and happy life in San Diego.
And most of the time Lily even believed her own lies.
Until she’d come back to Cedar Ridge.
Now she knew the truth. She hadn’t let go of the past at all. She’d buried it deep, let it take root, and had even secretly harbored it. “It’s good to talk to you, Mom.”
“Oh, darling, so good.” Over the air came the telltale sniff and Lily’s heart dropped.
“Mom, don’t cry.”
“It’s just so lovely to hear you.” She paused. “I’ve sent you something that