Page 3 of The Light We Lost

“If anyone can take my mama, it’s you.” I handed her cash and winked before taking a bite of the peach. “But we’ll just tell her I stole it.”

She tipped her head back in a laugh, her skin a warm brown. Her husband, Jake, sidled up beside her. “Our boy sure looks ready.”

I smiled, knowing exactly who he was talking about. The town loved their golden boy, even if he was about to leave. I glanced down the street toward Graham—Bait and Game. A group of teenage boys, most of whom had been on the high school baseball team, sat on the tailgates of their trucks in the parking lot. They were laughing, carefree as they had a good time, but one stood out from among the rest.

“He is ready,” I agreed, heart racing as Wallowpine’s golden boy knelt beside the blue pickup truck, looking at the front tire. “But I’m afraid he won’t be doing anything else but losing today.”

Wren chuckled. She knew about the games I loved to play—and how much Ilovedto win. “You better get going, sugar.” She kissed my cheek, telling me to keep raising hell before sending me on my way. I ran through the rest of town, waving as a few folks hollered their best wishes. They’d told me the same thing yesterday, and I’d hear it every day until we were finally gone. The town hadn’t been this excited since a few years back, when a local boy wandered into the forest and got lost.

I crossed the highway, hearing the sure sounds of screeching tires and someone hollering for me to get my head out of the clouds. Ignoring them, I ran down the side of the road and into the meadow. Grass swished against my legs, and I bit into the peach, its juice like a poison on my tongue. I was pushing my luck, but why stop now? Taking one last bite, I tucked it away in my bag as I edged closer to the tree line.

I slipped into the forest and slowed to a walk, telling myself I was panting from running, not because of the peach. The lighting was dim, the fading sun casting a gray hue as I scanned my surroundings. I smiled at the sight of the aspen tucked deep in the forest, its gray bark stark beside the pine trees. It was about a half mile from my house, but I was certain I could find it in my sleep. I quieted my breaths as I walked, careful not to make any noise.

You never knew what you might find out here.

A branch snapped behind me, and I twisted on my heel, searching. My heart raced, faster and faster, even as I found nothing and no one among the trees. With only seconds left, I took off into a sprint.

I raced toward the aspen, a laugh bubbling past my lips, eager to claim my victory. It was within reach, no more than a few feet away, when an arm hooked around my waist.

I screamed, the sound mixed with a laugh as my feet left the ground, my back pressed against a warm, solid surface. “Oh, come on,” I cried, already knowing who was holding me. “How? You were at the shop! Your tire was flat—”

Nolan Graham’s fingers squeezed my side, and I kicked my feet, giggling. After my shift at the diner, I’d snuck by his dad’s shop, Graham—Bait and Game, and let air out of his tires, but I should’ve known that wouldn’t stop him. His voice was hot against my ear. “You really should stop cheating.”

He loosened his hold on my waist, and my feet touched the ground. I moved as he did, desperate to win. I reached out my arm, but he beat me to it, his hand touching the tree first. Accepting defeat, I leaned over, my hands on my knees as I caught my breath. It didn’t matter how many times we’d done this—I was breathless every time.

Nolan’s fingers grazed my back, and clearing my throat, I straightened myself. My breathing might have slowed, but my pulse pounded faster as I peered into his blue eyes, bright even in the fading light. Blond strands of hair fell across his forehead, his skin tan from his time on the baseball diamond. Freckles dusted his nose, and there were crinkles beside his eyes, proof of how much he’d smiled throughout his years in this town.

I smiled wide, not bothered in the slightest when he didn’t smile back. He was the town’s golden boy, not mine. He was leaving Wallowpine in a week to chase a wildly big dream.

And Nolan was taking me with him.

His free hand curled around my jaw, and he leaned down, his lips skimming mine. “I win, peaches.” I reveled in the nickname, melting into him as he kissed me. His lips were thorough, like he couldn’t get enough and was desperate to remember my taste. My breaths were rasps, my throat swelling from my allergy, but I paid no heed.

It was worth it when the poison felt as good as this.

Chapter Two

Indy—Now

Iwas not a patient woman.

If anyone peeked inside any popcorn bag I’d ever made, they’d find half the kernels unpopped. Letting it pop the full minute and a half was torture. There wasn’t a Christmas present I hadn’t unwrapped and then rewrapped growing up, praying my parents wouldn’t notice. Sometimes when I felt extra bad, I’d skip to the end of the book.

I liked happy endings, and I needed everything wrapped tightly in a perfect little bow.

And that little bow was nearly finished.

“Okay, moving forward,” Asher, the agent leading the meeting, said. “Beckett Wilson. Are we any closer to him signing with us?”

I shared a look with Evelyn across the boardroom table, pressing my lips together to hide my smile as she said, “He’s coming in this afternoon. I have the contract ready to go.”

Asher raised his brows, the most he’d let on to being impressed she had gotten one of the most coveted baseball players in the industry to potentially sign with us. “Good work. Send the documents to me before he comes in—I’d like to go through them.”

Pulling out a pen, I scribbled out a reminder in my notepad as he said, “I’m assuming him coming in has something to do with the charge I saw on the company card two nights ago?”

I perked up in my chair, seeing what she might do. She gave him a coy smile. “I’m sure you’ll find it was worth every company penny.”

Asher laughed, the rest of the employees at the table following suit. Evelyn met my gaze and winked, as though to saySee, I told you:it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

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