Page 19 of The Shots You Take

“Goodbye, Adam.”

“Bye,” Adam said, but Riley had already left.

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Adam decided he couldn’t leave things as they were with Riley. He stopped by Paula’s to arm himself with coffee and two of the delicious-looking cinnamon buns (still warm!) that were piled on a platter next to the cash.

“You won’t regret those,” Paula herself said as she rang him in. “We’re famous for them.”

“I’m sure I won’t.”

“Is the second one for poor Riley?”

Adam paused in the middle of entering his PIN. “It’s—yeah.”

“Such a sin,” Paula clucked. “Harv was one of a kind. Well, I suppose Riley didn’t fall far from the tree. Looks like him too, only…”

“Taller,” they both said at the same time.

Paula smiled. She was probably in her sixties—about Riley’s mom’s age—a white woman with short gray hair and kind eyes. She was dressed very casually and wore no makeup, like someone who had been doing this job a long time and wasn’t trying to impress anyone. “You tell Riley to come by anytime for a hot meal. No charge. And give him this.” Shegrabbed a loaf of homemade brown bread off a shelf behind her. “His favorite.”

Adam stashed this piece of info away like a treasure. He’d take anything he could get. “Thanks. I will. And I’ll tell him.”

She glanced at a table where two men who were probably in their fifties were sitting, both staring at them. “Oh, for pity’s sake, fellas. Just ask him.” She turned back to Adam. “Arnold and Jeff over there are die-hard Toronto fans.”

Ah.Adam put on a smile. “Do you have a pen I could borrow?”

Fifteen minutes later he parked in one of the three spaces in front of Tuck’s Sporting Goods. A truck that likely belonged to Riley was already there.

Before exiting the car, Adam took a steadying breath and said, “Don’t fuck this up, Sheppard.” He carried the tray with the coffees and cinnamon buns in one hand, and the bread in the other.

There was a Pride flag sticker on the shop’s glass door, just above the handle. That definitely hadn’t been there when Adam had last been in Avery River. The bell chimed as he walked into the store, and Riley glanced up from where he’d been breaking down a cardboard box.

“Fucking hell,” Riley muttered.

“Hi.”

“What now?”

Adam lifted the tray in his hands. “I brought coffee. And cinnamon buns. Oh, and this bread is for you, compliments of Paula.”

Riley glared at him, then said, “Nice of her.”

“She’s great,” Adam agreed, ignoring how annoyed Riley clearly was. “She said you could come by for a free meal anytime.” He set everything on the counter, then glanced around. There was a lot of work to be done. It was absolutely ridiculousthat Riley thought he could put the store back together on his own. “Cream and sugar,” Adam announced as he pointed to one of the coffee cups. “Just how you like it.” He was proud of himself for remembering that.

Riley slowly approached the counter, as if worried Adam might attack him. He looked every bit as exhausted as he had the night before, and the day before that. “I take it with milk now. No sugar.”

“Oh.” There was no reason for Adam’s heart to deflate as much as it did at such a tiny thing.

He brightened a bit when Riley wiggled the coffee cup that was marked with CS for cream and sugar out of the tray, then peeked into the paper bag that sat between the cups.

“Couldn’t resist the cinnamon buns. You know my sweet tooth.” Adam laughed nervously. “I mean, I still have it. Still love dessert.”

Riley took a sip of his coffee.

Adam tried for a subject change. “Where’s Lucky?”

“Asleep in the back. We went for a long walk on the beach this morning.”

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