Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

P resent Day

“Why do you insist on torturing me?”

Callie’s lips twitched as she glanced up at her friend from behind the desk. “Some call it torture. Others call it Pilates.”

Aspen scoffed, pushing a lock of blond hair off her face as she sprawled across the yoga mat. Anyone would think the woman was dying. “I call it a special kind of misery.”

“I don’t mean to state the obvious, but you do realize you chose to take this class. Signed up and everything, and I don’t think anyone held a gun to your head.”

“I know that, but how else am I supposed to bond with my fitness-loving long-lost best friend?”

“First of all, we live together, so there’s plenty of bonding being done. Secondly, I was only away from Misty Peak for two years, and we spoke and texted every day. I’d hardly classify that as long or lost. Besides, you’re a romance author. Don’t you believe that absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

“Absolutely not. My readers would kill me if the characters were absent from each other’s lives for years. Not that I have many readers these days.”

Callie tilted her head. “You have readers. You just need to release your next book.”

“I know, but I’m uninspired.”

She was tempted to tell Aspen that her boyfriend might have something to do with that, but she bit her tongue. Callie had never liked Dylan. She wasn’t entirely sure why; there was just something about him that was…off-putting.

Her friend climbed to her feet. “Even though your classes resemble a bit of a torture chamber, I do kind of like the six-pack I’m getting.”

“So this place isn’t all bad?” Callie signed out of her laptop and closed the lid before glancing back over at her friend, who was now cringing as she stretched her quads.

“No, not all bad. And you know I’m ridiculously proud of you for coming home and opening your own studio.”

Callie’s heart gave a little kick. She was ridiculously proud of herself too. For the last two years, she’d been living in Bali, running yoga retreats, and she’d loved it. Lived and breathed it. She hadn’t planned to return to Misty Peak and open a studio, but she knew better than anyone that plans changed. Sometimes for the better, but not always.

“Thank you.”

Aspen’s smile softened. “Did you see Hamish looking at you today?”

“Hamish wasn’t looking at me.”

“He was. And I’m pretty sure he does your classes just to see you. He’s cute. Weird, but cute.”

Cute? She supposed he was kind of cute. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but there was also an awkwardness about him. “He doesn’t do the classes just to see me.”

“Whatever you say.” Aspen tilted her head. “How’s your dad?”

The usual tightness wrapped around her chest. “He says he’s fine.”

“But…”

Of course there was a but. Callie rounded the desk. “But I wish he’d let me take care of him more, like he did for me when I was in a hard situation. I want to help him.”

Her father was a stubborn man, but he was also kind and protective and the entire reason she’d come home.

Aspen dropped her leg to the floor and stepped forward, setting a hand on Callie’s arm. “You being here is helping him. You’re his whole world, Callie.”

Guilt swamped her. Because it was true. She was his whole family, and he was hers, and she’d left him for two years. And during those two years, her father had started having symptoms and had to deal with them himself. It was only after he’d finally gotten his diagnosis that he’d told her.

“Thanks,” Callie said.

“Of course.” Aspen nibbled her bottom lip. “Now, there was also something else I wanted to talk to you about before I head out on my search for story inspiration.”

Callie’s belly dropped…because she knew exactly what her friend was going to ask. “I haven’t seen him yet.”

Aspen nodded slowly. “I did.”

Oh God, she didn’t want to talk about this. She’d heard he was home. In the small town of Misty Peak, it was impossible for anything to go unnoticed.

Lock was back. And every day since learning that, she’d almost been afraid to step out of her house. Eventually she’d run into him, and she was nervous as hell for that day.

“Where did you see him?” she finally asked.

“I was walking down the street near Meridian, and he was coming the other way with one of his brothers.”

She almost asked which one. Lock had four brothers and a sister. The sister no longer lived in Misty Peak, but all his brothers did.

“I think he was with Jace,” Aspen said, as if reading her mind. “The two of them seemed to be deep in conversation, and I almost thought they wouldn’t notice me. Then Lock looked up.”

His ocean-blue eyes flashed in her mind. The image cut off her breath. “Did you talk to him?”

“No. He stopped talking to his brother and almost looked like he wanted to say something to me, but I looked away and walked faster. It was for his own safety. If I’d stopped, I probably would have kicked him in the shin.”

She shouldn’t ask. She knew she shouldn’t, but… “How did he look?”

“The same. Tall. Broad. Serious. But also different.”

“Different how?” God, Callie, stop.

She lifted a shoulder. “I’m used to seeing him with you.”

What did that—

“And he was always happy with you.”

Her heart thumped. Yep, she really needed this conversation to be over. “You should go. You’ve got a book to write.” She went to step away, but Aspen grabbed her arm.

“Hey. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m sorry he’s back. I’m sorry that it’s going to be hard for you before it gets easy.”

It wasn’t hard. Hard was waking up at six a.m. while it was still dark outside. It was learning to play the piano when you’d never played an instrument before.

Being back in the same town as the man she’d loved more than anything in the world, only to have her heart broken, wasn’t hard. It was excruciating.

She lifted a shoulder. “Life can’t always be easy.”

“Let me know if next time I see him, you want me to kick him where the sun don’t shine, okay? Because I will, and I can do some serious damage.”

Despite everything, Callie laughed. “Really? You’d kick a former Ghost Ops team member?”

“Hell yeah, I would. Then I’d run like hell.”

Callie laughed again, because not only was Lock tall and strong, he was also fast. There’d be no getting away and Aspen knew that. “You’re a good friend.”

“I know. That’s why the next time I sign up for another hour of suffering, you’re going to let me sit out those side-lying crunch things.”

“Again…voluntary. The class is voluntary.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Aspen tugged Callie into a tight hug before heading out of the studio.

Callie was still smiling as she watched her friend move toward her car through the window. It felt good to be back with her best friend. Leaving this town two years ago had meant leaving both Aspen and her father. It had been hard, but at the time, she hadn’t felt like she’d had a choice.

She was back now though. The only thing she hadn’t counted on was Lock being back too.

Her heart gave a little twist. Aspen was right. She couldn’t avoid him forever. Misty Peak was too small for that. But the idea of seeing him made every put-together piece of her tear apart. She hadn’t seen him since that day. But she’d thought about him. God, had she thought about him. Even when her heart had screamed to forget.

She swallowed and turned, grabbing some spray and wipes before moving around the studio and cleaning the machines. Everyone wiped down their reformer at the end of each class, but she always gave them another once-over before leaving her studio for the day.

Her studio. It sounded crazy. She’d actually opened her own studio, something she’d wanted to do for as long as she could remember.

There were five reformer machines on one side of the room for her Pilates classes and five mats on the other side for yoga. The classes were small and intimate. The perfect size for her.

When the machines were clean, she grabbed her laptop and a pile of mail she hadn’t opened yet and headed into the back room. There was a small kitchenette on one side and a table with a couple of chairs on the other. There was also a small bathroom across from this room.

She dumped the mail onto the table before throwing out the wipes. Her plan for the rest of the day was a trip to the grocery store to get supplies for prime rib—her father’s favorite.

She turned back to the mail and was rifling through the pile when one letter had her pausing. The fine hairs on her arms stood on end, and a chill swept over her skin.

No…it couldn’t be. She hadn’t received one of these letters in years—since the last time she’d lived in Misty Peak.

She traced the familiar handwriting with her eyes. The indentation of the ink was deep, like the person writing it used so much pressure they almost pushed their pen through the envelope.

For six months, she’d received letters from this person while still living in Misty Peak and dating Lock. Letters about her looks. About the brown locks of her hair shining in the sun. The green of her eyes reminding him of a forest. They were never signed with a name.

Even though she’d been dating Lock, she hadn’t told him. He’d been special operations in the military, working a super dangerous job. He didn’t need to worry about her too.

After a few months, she’d gone to the sheriff at the time, but there’d been nothing he could do. There’d been no prints on the notes and no return address, and the person had never escalated past sending letters. They’d only stopped when she left, and she’d almost forgotten about them…until now.

Quickly, she tore open the envelope to see two words.

Welcome home.

Her heart punched her ribs. There was nothing threatening about those two words. There’d never been anything threatening about any of the letters. But whoever it was, they knew she was back…and they wanted her to know that.

Her skin crawled.

Who was it? Two years had passed…surely they should have lost interest in her in that time?

She’d just shoved the letter back into the envelope and dropped it to the table when the creak of a floorboard sounded in the other room.

She took a deep breath. A potential client was in the other room. She needed to forget about the letter, at least for a few minutes.

She turned and stepped into the studio, only to grind to a halt as she looked up, way up, into the familiar blue eyes of the man she’d loved. The man who’d changed her. Hurt her. Left her.

Lock Walker.