Chapter 50

RILEY

Later that night, Eric and I waved goodbye to Craig at Broomfield Airport. The thunderstorm that everyone was expecting never arrived—which was fortunate for Eric's agent. The visit to Alex's home was a stopover on his way to Calgary for a conference. If the storm had touched down in Broomfield, there was a high chance his flight would have been canceled.

On our way to the airport, Craig talked about Eric's publishing schedule. After the conference, he was returning to Manhattan and he wanted Eric with him. While I listened to what they were planning, I became more and more worried. I wasn't sure how I felt about long-distance relationships, or even what kind of relationship I had with Eric.

"What are you thinking about?" Eric asked.

I watched the lights from another plane taxi down the runway. "I was thinking about us."

When Eric didn't say anything, I turned and looked at him. His gaze was steady and sure, something I was far from feeling.

Eric looked around the departure area. "Why don't we get a coffee? We can find somewhere quiet to talk before we go back to Alex's house."

I nodded and walked beside him to the nearest café.

"What would you like?" Eric asked.

"I can get our drinks."

His eyebrows rose. "What would you like?"

I sighed. "Fine. A cappuccino would be great."

Eric returned with our drinks and two chocolate-covered pastries. "Where would you like to sit?"

I headed toward a table on the far side of the dining area. Apart from a few people grabbing a late dinner, the tables were empty. I wasn't sure how our discussion would end, so it was just as well there weren't many people around us.

Eric placed our tray on the table and sat beside me. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Sipping my drink wouldn't start the conversation, but I didn't know where to begin. "Are you looking forward to going home?"

"I'm looking forward to getting back to a normal life." Eric's gray eyes never left my face. "I need to tell you something."

I'd never seen Eric look so serious or uncomfortable. My heart sank. "What is it?"

"It's about today. Finding you in the cave brought back a lot of memories—things I thought I'd come to terms with." He took a deep breath. "I want to tell you this so you understand me a little better. The reason I was upset was because Mike died in Central Park at a place called The Ravine. It's supposed to be a sanctuary away from the noise of the city, but his killer turned it into a trap. Sometimes, the memories of that night hit me hard."

I frowned. "Is Mike's death the reason Sherlock doesn't like thunder?"

Eric's slow nod tore at my heart. "There was a storm the night Mike died. Before he was killed, he radioed in to say Sherlock had been shot. When the responding units arrived, he was lying across Mike's chest, trying to protect him."

Imagining the terror Sherlock must have felt made me feel sick. "Did he ever go back to the K-9 unit?"

"No. He was too traumatized by what happened."

I held onto Eric's hand. "I don't know what to say, except thank you. It must have been hard being on the mountain."

"It would have been worse if we'd lost you. Which is why I'm not going back to Brooklyn. Not yet, anyway."

"But your agent?—"

"Craig will have to make do with the phone and the Internet. I still have to write the last chapter of my book, anyway."

"And after that?"

"It'll take a couple of weeks to do the edits before Craig sees the manuscript. Once he's read it, I'll change anything he finds before it's sent to the publishing house. They'll suggest more edits before it's ready for the next stage."

"It's a long process."

Eric nodded. "Mistakes can slip through, but we try to minimize them. Are you okay with me staying at the cottage for a few more weeks?"

"You can stay for as long as you like." I took a deep breath. "I want to tell you something, too. I'm thinking about making Sunrise Bay my permanent home."

Eric seemed surprised. "I thought you'd go back to Italy."

"I'm tired of living so far away from Mom and my friends." I wanted to add, ‘and you' but I wasn't sure how Eric would react.

"Brooklyn's a long way from Sunrise Bay." Eric didn't seem happy with the thought of a long-distance relationship, either.

I knew we could make our friendship work—it just depended on how much we were willing to compromise. "We both have jobs that can be based anywhere in the world. If you'd like us to spend more time together, I could live in New York City for a few months of the year. But I don't want to live there all the time."

"You don't like big cities?"

"I never have," I told him. "They're too noisy and polluted."

"What if I said I could live in Sunrise Bay? Not in the cottage, but in a place of my own. I'd have to fly back to New York City once or twice a month, but most of the time I'd be in Colorado."

My heart pounded. "You'd do that?"

Eric held my hand tighter. "I want to spend more time with you. I can't do that from two thousand miles away."

I didn't know what to say. "I want to get to know you, too."

Eric looked into my eyes. "That's good because I think I'm falling in love with you."

All of my doubts and worries melted away. I leaned forward and kissed Eric gently on the lips. "You aren't the only one who's falling in love. Do you think Sherlock will be happy in Sunrise Bay?"

"He'd be happy wherever we lived, but Sunrise Bay is special. He's found his home, and so have I."

My heart was bursting with joy. From desperately wanting to leave Sunrise Bay as a teenager, my life had come full circle—and I couldn't be happier.