Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

LILITH

Thirty-two missed calls.

More than half of the calls are from my agent. That’s what happens when you’re two weeks past your deadline for a six-figure book deal. The rest are from my grandparents, my aunt, my best friend, and there’s even one from Tristan… the asshole that broke up with me two weeks after my parents died in a horrific car crash because he couldn’t deal with it emotionally. My aunt must have called him when she was on her Lilith hunt.

In my defense, I left a note. I didn’t just slip away in the middle of the night without a word. I just failed to mention where I was going. It all came together very quickly. That’s the power of the internet, I suppose. Within an hour’s time, I booked a one-way flight from Boston to Charlotte, a rental car that would take me the rest of the way to Magnolia Ridge and secured a long-term homestay.

Since I took a red eye flight, I had some time to kill before I could check into the homestay. While, typically, the mere thought of not having a meticulous plan would send me into a fit of hives, I am choosing to channel my parents and go with the flow today. I swear, there was nothing on this earth that could shake Irving and Dorothea Sharpe. I’m not sure if was their natural demeanors or all the weed they smoked, but my parents were the happiest pair of hippies.

In fact, we came to discover Magnolia Ridge by way of friend they made at a music festival when I was only six or seven years old. Unlike their painfully shy daughter, neither of my parents met a stranger in their entire lives. The first summer we stayed here was so perfect that we came back the next summer and the one after that. Even when I stopped coming with them after I turned eighteen, my parents made sure to make the trip at least once a year.

It’s been six years since I’ve been in Magnolia Ridge. A flood of regret hits me like a tidal wave when I pass the Welcome to Magnolia Ridge sign as I drive across the town line. What I wouldn’t give for one more sunrise coffee with my dad or late-night peanut butter cup s’more with my mom. If only I’d known how you can’t get time back once it’s gone, I would have prioritized spending time with them over chasing deadlines and bestsellers’ lists.

I had every intention of making a trip out here by the end of summer to spread some of my parents’ ashes. There was nowhere on this earth they loved more than Magnolia Ridge. An impromptu spur of the moment visit was not on the agenda, but, again, I’m just winging it over here. As I cruise down Main Street, I find comfort in how things are exactly as they were the last time I was here.

The clock on the dashboard reads just after five o’clock. I managed to get an hour or so of sleep on the flight, but other than that, I’ve been awake since early yesterday morning. The access code for the homestay won’t be active until eight, so since I have some time to kill, I park the rental car at Kitty’s – the only diner in town.

My stomach has been grumbling since before the plane took off from Logan Airport. I could have stopped at any one of the restaurants I saw along the drive, but nothing was going to satisfy the specific hunger I had for a black raspberry milkshake, a bacon cheeseburger with extra pickles, and a plate of salty fries with Kitty’s homemade buttermilk ranch.

My feet aren’t fully over the threshold before I hear a shriek of joy coming from behind the bar.

“As I live and breathe. Lilith Sharpe! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Kitty Wilde is larger than life. Almost everything about her is big – her platinum blonde hair, her boobs, and her personality. The first time I met her, I thought she was Dolly Parton.

As she pushes herself through the swinging door, I brace myself for her embrace. I’m not much of a hugger, but from what I remember, Kitty, and almost everyone else in Magnolia Ridge, very much is.

In the few seconds I have before Kitty pulls me into her arms, I take a quick glance around. Much like Main Street, not much has changed inside the diner. The same row of cracked red leather booths and wooden tables are against the front windows. The walls are still filled with town memorabilia and black and white tile lines the floor. Cushioned tools with no back sit alongside the bar in front of opening to the kitchen.

My heart aches when I inhale the swirls of sweet maple, greasy bacon, and robust coffee that fill the air. Kitty’s was always our first stop of our trip and, without fail, every time my dad would step foot into the diner, he would dramatically take a whiff of the air and say, “if heaven has a scent, I sure hope it’s Kitty’s Diner.”

Then, my mom would tease him saying that it was funny he thought he was going to get into heaven.

“Hello, Miss Kitty,” I chuckle when she reaches me.

“What a welcomed surprise!” she says. Instead of letting go when we break our hug, she places both of her hands on my upper arm and steps back, studying me for a moment. “How you doin’, honey?”

“I’m okay,” I lie. If nothing else, the last month has taught me that no one wants the truth. It makes them uncomfortable. Most of the time when they’re asking, it’s out of a sense of obligation.

Kitty narrows her eyes and tilts her head down. “How are you really doing?”

I start to repeat myself, tell her that I’m “really” okay, but something in me breaks.

“I miss them so much.” I try to swallow the grief threatening to spill out, but before I realize what’s happening, my eyes are brimming with tears. “Everyone else has just moved on with their lives. And I get it. Time doesn’t stop for anyone, but it’s only been four weeks. My aunt wants to have an estate sale. She wants to sell their belonging to strangers. I couldn’t take it anymore. Magnolia Ridge was always their happy place. I thought maybe if I came here, I could feel them again.”

I don’t tell Kitty that I’m behind on my deadline. That’s a whole other can of worms I’m not quite ready to open just yet.

Kitty opens her mouth to answer, but before she can get a word out, the deep vibrato of a man clearing his throat behind us startles us both.

I glance over and pray to all things holy that there isn’t snot bubbling out of my nostrils. Standing behind us is, easily, the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. He towers over both me and Kitty. Though, at a whopping five foot and two inches, most people end up looking down at me. If I had to guess, I’d give him at least a solid six feet in height.

His raven colored hair is styled into a crisply lined undercut, the top locks styled back with a few strands falling to the side of his forehead. His cheeks are peppered with stubble, but not enough that it hides his sharp jawline. And the icing on the cake is his outfit – all black from head to toe. From his black t-shirt to his black workpants… all the way down to his black combat boots.

“Excuse me,” he starts. “Is the bar open?”

“Yes, of course, Bram,” Kitty says to the ridiculously attractive man. “Grab a stool and I’ll be right over with a coffee for you,” she pauses, “This conversation is far from over, missy, but for now, how about you grab a stool too. Your burger and shake are on the house today.”

I know well enough not to argue with Kitty Wilde.

At the risk of making things super awkward, I take a seat a few stools over from Bram. It’s five o’clock in the morning and the only other patron is an elderly man, sitting alone in a booth.

“Fine,” I concede. “But if you won’t let me pay for my meal, then I would like to pay for the gentleman in the booth’s breakfast.”

Every time we came into the diner, my dad would pick a table and pay for their meal too. He had a knack for always finding the people that really needed a pick-me-up.

“Very well,” Kitty agrees with a grin. “Coffee? Or the usual?”

“Both?” I shrug. I’ve been getting black raspberry milkshakes from Kitty’s for two decades now.

Kitty nods with a smile and turns around to make a fresh pot of coffee. The whole time we’re speaking, I can feel eyes watching me from the corner of the bar. Normally, I would tuck my head down and keep to myself, but part of this trip is stepping outside of my comfort zone. “Be brave, Ladybug.”

I hear my mom’s soft voice of encouragement in my head as I turn to face the staring eyes.

“Hi,” I say, reaching across the countertop with an outstretched hand. “I’m Lilith.”

His bright green eyes crinkle with amusement as the corner of his lip curls up.

“Bram,” he answers, taking my hand. The first thing I notice is the roughness of it against my soft skin. His hold is firm, but not tight. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I realize I was staring, but I was trying to figure out where I would know you from. I’ve lived in Magnolia Ridge my whole life and I swear I’ve never seen you, but you sure seem to know my aunt. So, I must have met you at some point.”

With a pot of coffee in hand, Kitty tells him to “hush” as she fills his mug.

“This is Lilith Sharpe , Bramley,” Kitty tells him.

With the emphasis on my last name, I prepare myself for the pity in Bram’s eyes. I haven’t been to Magnolia Ridge since the summer I turned eighteen, but I do remember how fast news travels in this little town. Whether he knew my parents or not, by the show of Magnolia Ridge residents at their funeral, there was no way he didn’t hear about their deaths.

He didn’t offer his condolences or give me that sad, sympathetic smile everyone plasters on their face when they’re not sure what to say. Instead, he pushes his coffee mug across the bar top and then proceeds move himself to the stool next to mine. If I didn’t know better, I would one hundred percent think this was my mother’s doing. Once I had graduated from college, she made the swift transition from strictly mom mode to a mom that could also be your friend too. She always managed to catch me when I spent a second or two lingering on a guy and tried so hard to get me to talk to them. It never worked. Till now.