I run up the side of the house to the driveway until I reach my car.
“Juno!” Austin yells.
I turn around and he tosses me Colton’s ring box. I catch it, confused as to why he has it. But instead of asking, I say, “Thanks,” slide into my car, and roar down the driveway.
I go way over the speed limit on the way to Colton’s house, but when I get there, I find it empty. I run up the stairs and find the bedroom neat and orderly. Nothing out of place or out of the ordinary. Running back downstairs to the kitchen, there’s no note, and when I check the garage, his truck isn’t there. Where would he have gone?
I rush down the hallway to his office and don’t see any clues. I sit at his desk and rub my temples before pulling out my phone to call Kingston, putting it on speaker.
“Heard you’re in crisis,” he answers.
“Seriously, how fast does the Bailey phone tree work?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Where would he go, King? He’s not here, and I’ve blown it. He’s finally reached his limit!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down first. You won’t lose Colton. You’re at his house, right? Is his suitcase there?”
“Hold on.” I take the phone with me and rush upstairs where he keeps his luggage in the closet. “It’s missing. Oh my God, he’s flying somewhere.”
“Boot up his computer. If he were home, let’s hope he’d book a flight on his computer and not his phone.”
I run back to the office and do as he says, entering Colton’s password. “I don’t see anything.”
“Go to his history.”
I scramble to click and finally find it. “There’s nothing that sticks out to me.”
“Go to his recent files on his computer. What has he been doing?”
“Okay.” I scroll to his documents and click on recent activity. I click on the first one and it’s a slideshow of pictures. “It’s a picture slideshow of…” I lean forward. “No way.”
“What is it? Please don’t tell me if it’s naked pictures of the two of you. I don’t want that in my head.”
“It’s a slideshow of all my success stories with SparkFinder. Pictures of them now, married or with kids. Each one thanking me. One of their kids is holding a sign that says, ‘Juno the Matchmaker—if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here.’”
“Way to go, Colton,” Kingston whispers.
“Oh, Kingston, they all look so happy and in love.”
“And they found each other through you,” Kingston says. “Still doubting that whole matchmaking thing?”
I click off the slideshow. “I need to find Colton right now. Where else do I look?”
“Let me see if he’ll answer a call from me. I’ll call you back.”
“Okay, I’m going now to drive around.”
“Just sit and wait. Maybe he’ll return there.”
“He took his suitcase. I’m going.”
He blows out a breath. “Okay, I’ll call you if he answers.”
“Thanks.”
We hang up and I grab my keys, going back to my car and thinking I’ll drive to the airport. I press on the gas, and the streetlights pop on as the sky darkens. I try to call him again, but he doesn’t answer. I hit the highway toward Anchorage with so much anxiety, I can’t stop tapping my hand on the steering wheel.
A while later, my phone finally rings and it’s Kingston. “Did he answer for you?”
“Juno, can you come and get me?”
“Where is he?” I ask.
“Just come and get me and I’ll drive you to him.”
“Kingston!” I yell.
“He’s on his way up north to his parents’ cabin.”
My stomach sinks to the floorboards. “Wait.” I pull over. “Did you talk to him?”
There’s silence. “No, he didn’t answer, but Mrs. Stone did.”
“And what did she say?” I can barely get the words out, afraid of the answer. Do they know how stupid I’ve been? That I’ve jeopardized my future with their son?
“She said he called her and asked about the code. Told her he had to get away. Just come get me.”
“Oh my God, King, she probably hates me.” I can’t get enough air in my lungs. It feels as if my throat is closing in. “I think I know my way there. If anyone asks, that’s where I am.”
“Juno, I’m not letting you to drive up there by yourself when it’s almost dark. He’s let me use the place a few times. I can get you up there, and I’ll drive your car back. You can stay there and enjoy the makeup sex.”
I cannot lose Colton because of my idiocy. I almost