“Thanks, Sunny,” I murmured, savoring the warmth of her soft, feminine body. “I know I did the right thing. I know that Miles would never blame me, but man, it hurts.” She tightened her embrace. After a while, she lifted her head and studied me with watery eyes. I smoothed back the hair from her face. “I’m happy you’re here with me, Sunshine.”
She smiled at the old endearment, then her expression faltered. “Do you still love Kenzie?”
“I’ll always love Kenzie.” Sunny stiffened in my arms. “But I’m not in love with her anymore. Our friendship survived the breakup.” I paused. “I mean, it took a while, but we’re good now, and I’m happy for her and Ripper.”
“Really?” A note of skepticism—or hope—lingered in her voice.
“Yeah, really. It all worked out for the best.”
“I’m glad,” Sunny said, her eyes luminous in the dusky light.
“Me, too.”
We lapsed into silence. She laid her head on my shoulder. I nuzzled her hair, breathing in the scent of honey and grapefruit shampoo. Man, honey and grapefruit was fast becoming my favorite smell.
Sunny lifted her head. “It’s still early. Do you want to try to get some more sleep?”
I have a better idea. I almost said the words out loud, but stopped myself. We needed to wrap our heads around our evolving relationship, figure out what we’re doing before we jumped into sex.
I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s 5:30, and I’m too wired to fall back asleep, but you go ahead.”
“No.” Sunny hopped out of bed, extended a hand, and pulled me up. “Let’s go down to the kitchen, make cups of coffee and tea, then go out on the balcony and wait for the sun to come up,” she suggested.
We put on the terry bathrobes we’d found in the closet and tiptoed down to the kitchen, a huge room full of top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances. Appliances that worked, thanks to the house’s generators and solar panels, a fact that still boggled my mind. I’d never take electricity for granted again.
I found the coffee and tea and brewed a cup of each while Sunny poked around in the kitchen. Swinging open a door, she gave a low whistle. “Check this out,” she called. I followed her into a large walk-in pantry lined floor to ceiling with shelves crowded with foodstuffs. Another refrigerator and a huge freezer stood along one wall.
“Reminds me of Miles’s basement,” I said. At Sunny’s quizzical expression, I explained. “Miles was a survivalist, and he had a ton of food set aside for the end of days.”
“Sounds like a smart guy.”
My chest ached, the way it always did whenever I spoke about my friend. “He was.”
“Excuse me,” a voice called. Sunny and I turned around. Hildy stood behind us. Despite the early hour, she was wearing an immaculate gray dress and a white apron. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t here to make your coffee and tea,” she said.
Sunny smiled. “It’s not even six in the morning. You don’t need to get up to make us coffee.”
Hildy frowned. “Mr. Allsop wouldn’t like that his guests had to fend for themselves.”
“Then we won’t tell him.” Sunny winked and laid a conspiratorial hand on Hildy’s arm.
“If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to wake me.” Hildy pointed toward a short hallway leading from the kitchen. She blinked rapidly, appearing flustered. “First door on the left.”
“You were up late last night making those delicious brownie sundaes,” Sunny said. “Then I bet we woke you up early rattling around in the kitchen.”
“Oh, no,” Hildy said quickly. “Mr. Allsop likes to have fresh pastries with breakfast. I’m always at work by six. I’m baking croissants this morning.”
Sunny’s eyes grew wide and hopeful. “By any chance are you making chocolate croissants?”
“I am now.”
Sunny squealed and hugged Hildy. “Do you need help?”
Hildy patted Sunny’s shoulder and offered a genuine smile. “No, miss. The dough is in the refrigerator. All I need to do is shape the rolls and give them a final rise. You and the gentleman should enjoy your drinks while I get to work.”
“Okay, we will.” Sunny picked up her cup of Earl Grey tea. “Thanks for making chocolate croissants. I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure.” The woman beamed.
Sunny’s kindness and warmth had worked its magic on Hildy. I took my cup of coffee and followed my old friend—friend, yeah right, the jig was up on that one—onto the wide balcony that overlooked the city. She settled onto a cushioned outdoor sofa and patted the spot next to her, inviting me to sit.
I’d missed her during the past crazy months, missed her gift for drawing people in and making them feel valued and seen. The new, dangerous world hadn’t dulled her spirit, made her cautious or less openhearted. I wasn’t entirely sure that that was a good thing. The urge to cherish her and keep her safe burrowed deep in my chest.
“The Allsops run that woman ragged,” Sunny said as I took a seat next to her.
“They sure do,” I agreed.
In the distance, the skyline of downtown Boise slowly grew visible in the lightening sky.
Sunny shivered. I threw an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. She snuggled against me, clutching her cup of hot tea to her chest.
“We can go inside if you’re cold,” I suggested.
“No, I like this. I like sitting with you waiting for the sun to come up.”
“Me, too.” I dropped a kiss on her temple, and she sighed, her lips tilting up in a small smile.
We fell into silence. Birds twittered in the nearby trees. In the distance, a coyote yipped, then a second joined in. A cacophony of sharp barks and yelps erupted.
“I hope they didn’t find a dog,” Sunny said, turning her face toward the sound.
“Probably a rabbit.” I hoped it was a rabbit.
“Probably,” Sunny repeated, her voice uncertain. She shivered again, and I rubbed my palm up and down her arm. “I wonder where Sara and Rocco are right now.”
“Do you think they’ll come back to Boise?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she said slowly. “I know that they feel responsible for the people here. But if the Nampa Boy told them that everybody at the Haven is dead and that they’d taken control of the city, Sara and Rocco might decide that it’s too risky. They might go into hiding or take off.”
“At least they got away,” I said.
“Thank God for that.” She snuggled against my shoulder. “You still want to go back to Valhalla right away, don’t you?”
I shouldn’t be surprised that my forthright friend brought up the subject that I’d been wondering how to broach.
“Yeah, I do. It’s my home, and the people there are my family.” I caught her chin and tilted her face up to mine. I needed her to see the conviction behind my words. “I want you to come with me, Sunny. I couldn’t bear to leave you behind.”
Her beautiful amber eyes glistened in the pale morning light. “I want to be with you, too.”
Something shifted inside of me, and certainty settled in my chest. I dipped my head and brushed my lips against hers. We weren’t playing for an audience. We weren’t selling our roles as boyfriend and girlfriend. It was just the two of us. No witnesses. No ghosts from the past.
What would Jake say if he could see us now? Would he be glad that his friend stood by his little sister’s side as she faced the post-pandemic world? I hoped so.
Sunny moaned and shifted, curving her body against mine. Her tongue darted from her mouth and teased my lips apart. I tasted bergamot and lavender as we deepened the kiss. Her fists clenched on my terrycloth robe. She slowly pulled the collar apart, baring my upper chest. Delicate fingers traced my collarbone then dipped into the notch in my throat. Sunny yanked her mouth away from mine. We stared at each other, panting.
“You want to stop?” I choked out.
“Nope.”
&nb
sp; “You sure?”
She laughed softly. “I’ve fantasized about kissing you since I was fifteen. So, no, I don’t want to stop.”
My brain short-circuited. Sunny had wanted to kiss me since she was fifteen?
Her gaze dropped to my chest, and she bit her lower lip.
What was the woman doing?
With half-closed eyelids, she lowered her head and pressed open-mouthed kisses against my pecs. When her fingernail scraped over my nipple, I bucked. Seizing her hips, I pulled her across my lap. She straddled my thighs. I tangled my fingers in her hair and tugged, dragging her mouth back to mine. My body rioted, my nerve endings set ablaze.
Behind us, somebody cleared their throat. Sunny and I jerked apart. I twisted my neck, scowling. Brody leaned against the wide-open French doors. He lifted a cup of steaming coffee to his mouth and took a sip, his eyes dancing. “Sorry to interrupt, brother. I’m heading to the gym to get some cardio in before breakfast. Hildy told me you’re up, so I thought I’d invite you to join me.”
Sunny swung off of my hips and stood. If I’d guessed that she’d be embarrassed that Brody Allsop caught us making out, I would’ve been wrong. Bending over, she pressed a quick kiss on my mouth. “Later, babe,” she said. Chin held high, she sauntered past a smirking Brody.
“You want to come, Sunny?” he called after her.
Pausing, she glanced back over her shoulder. “No, Brody, I don’t want to come. At least not now.”
He barked out a laugh as she disappeared into the kitchen, then he turned his eyes toward my lap. “You… uh… need a minute, buddy?”
Yeah. I needed a minute. Dammit.
He’s lucky I don’t strangle him.
FIFTEEN
Sunny
I resisted the urge to lick the melted chocolate off my thumb, although now that I thought about it, wouldn’t it be smarter—less wasteful of resources—to clean up with my tongue rather than smearing dark chocolate on a white linen napkin?
“Thank you for the croissants, Hildy,” I said to the housekeeper, who was bustling around the breakfast table refilling coffee cups. “They were perfect.”
She bobbed her head, acknowledging my thanks, and glanced at Mr. Allsop. “That will be all, Hildy,” he said. “You may go.”
“Yes, sir.” Clutching the coffee pot to her chest, she scurried from the room.
Mr. Allsop dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, then settled back in his chair. “Now that we know that the doctor and nurse have escaped, we can begin to plan an assault on the Nampa Boys headquarters. Kyle, I’d like you to join Jonesy, Brody, and me in the war room.”
War room? The Allsops have a war room?
Kyle looked as startled as I was by the request, but he recovered quickly. “Of course, Mr. Allsop.”
“And Sunny. We need to get the word out about your friends’ escape. I’d like you to take one of my men and visit your fellow scavengers.”
“Sure,” I said. “Could you send the same guy who went with me yesterday? We got along great.”
He inclined his head. “As you wish.”
“Maybe they could stop at Northumberland Heights when they’re finished,” Kyle spoke up. “Sunny could use some more clothes, and I’d appreciate it if your guy could drive my pickup back here.”
“Of course.” Mr. Allsop tossed his napkin onto his plate and stood. “Sunny, my man will meet you out front in ten minutes. Now gentlemen, follow me to the war room.”
“One sec.” Kyle hopped to his feet and dug in his jeans pocket. “You’ll need my keys.” His hand closed briefly over mine when he handed me the fob. I tilted my face up, and he dropped a quick kiss on my lips.
“You taste like chocolate,” he murmured.
I smiled. “You taste like coffee and chocolate.”
Mr. Allsop cleared his throat.
“Later.” Kyle backed away, smiling a farewell.
“Later,” Brody echoed, following his father from the dining room.
After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush my teeth and attend to business, I met Finn in the driveway. “Hey, Sunny.” He greeted me like an old friend. Most of Mr. Allsop’s people maintained a painfully polite distance. I appreciated Finn’s relaxed manners. He waved a small spiral notebook in the air. “I’m supposed to write down as many addresses as you can remember, so we have a record of where the scavengers live. It’ll come in handy once we get the Haven back on its feet.”
I doubted that I could remember them all, but maybe if we put our heads together, the other scavengers and I could compile a comprehensive list. Finn and I climbed into Daisy. This time, when the engine hesitated Finn didn’t comment. We drove into town. Within a couple of hours, we’d visited the homes of five of my fellow scavengers. The last man—Josef—directed us to two more of our people. Finn dutifully wrote down everyone’s names and addresses.
“You ready to see my old neighborhood?” I asked him when we were done.
“Sure thing,” he said.
I steered Daisy toward Northumberland Heights. Finn gave a low whistle when we drove past the guard shack. “Guess I should have figured you were rich, being friends with the Allsops and all.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call us friends,” I said. “More like acquaintances. Mr. Allsop knew my parents and Kyle’s. We all belonged to the same country club.”
“Country club.” He laughed. “Like I said. Rich.”
I could have argued the point. My family had never been Allsop rich—with live-in staff and a private jet—but we’d undoubtedly lived a life of comfort and plenty. Growing up, I’d been damned lucky, and more for my family than for our material possessions. I sighed.
“What is it?” Finn asked.
“Just missing my parents and my brother,” I confessed.
He reached over and patted my arm. “I know. Me, too.”
When we parked in my driveway, I turned to Finn. “My food supply is hidden upstairs. I won’t need it. Would you mind if we box it up and take it to Mrs. B. and Ever?”
“Not at all. I’d like to see that little rascal again.”
I glanced his way with wide, shocked eyes. “I’m going to tell Mrs. B. you called her a rascal.” I mock gasped. “Even though she deserves it. What did she call you, a ‘tall drink of water’?”
“No, ma’am. You will not tell that sweet old lady that I called her a rascal.” His voice was firm, but his blue eyes twinkled with humor. “You know darned well that I was talking about the little girl.”
I grinned. “Knowing Mrs. B., she’d probably prefer that you call her a rascal rather than a sweet old lady.”
He snorted. “That may be.”
Finn carried an empty box into the house and followed me upstairs to my bedroom. I pointed to my bookshelves. “The food is hidden behind the rows of books. Can you start packing it up? I’m going to go grab a suitcase from my parents’ closet.”
“You bet.”
I crossed the hall to my mom and dad’s bedroom, then faltered before stepping across the threshold. I hadn’t stepped inside the room since the day they died. The messy bed sheets were rumpled and stained, the air in the room so sour that my nose stung. In my mind’s eye, I saw my father lift Mom’s body from the bed, knocking both a pillow and a glass of water onto the floor as he staggered under her slight weight. Was his heart already failing when he lifted her? Was that why he stumbled? Or was it grief? I’d never know.
“Shit,” I whispered, overcome by memory.
Finn appeared at my side. “You need help?”
I almost asked him to fetch the big, black suitcase from their closet, but changed my mind. If Kyle and I left Boise, this might be my last time in this room, in this house. I’d never forget my parents, but I wanted to take a few tangible reminders of them.
“No,” I said. “Thanks, but I got this.” He clasped my arm, then silently returned to my room. Squaring my shoulders, I marched toward the closet, lifted the suitcase down from the shelf, and rolled it in
to the hall.
I walked over to the dresser, to the inlaid wooden box where Mom kept her treasures. I pushed aside a diamond bracelet and the emerald earrings Dad gave Mom for their twentieth anniversary. I was looking for something far more precious.
There. My fingers brushed over Grandma’s charm bracelet. Grandpa had given grandma the 14 karat-oval linked-bracelet on the day they wed, with a single heart-shaped charm attached. They’d been in college at the time, and he’d worked extra shifts at his part-time job in order to afford the gift. Over the years, as his business grew and flourished, he’d added to the bracelet. Dozens of charms now adorned it. A cat with sapphire eyes purchased for their fifth anniversary. A gold baby rattle to celebrate my mother’s birth. The Eiffel Tower to commemorate their first trip to Paris. An hourglass engraved with the words Grow Old Along With Me. They had grown old together, lived a long and happy life. Something the damned flu had denied my parents and millions—maybe billions—of other souls.
I fastened the charm bracelet around my wrist, then walked to the dresser. In the bottom drawer I found Dad’s favorite sweater, an army green, Irish knit cardigan with leather patches on the elbows. When I was little, Dad read me storybooks every night before bed. On chilly evenings, perched on his lap, I’d snuggle into that sweater, warm and safe in my daddy’s arms. I folded the sweater over my arm and picked up the framed family photo that sat atop the dresser.
My gaze traveled slowly over the room. The bracelet, the sweater, the picture; I didn’t need anything else. No wait. I jogged to the closet, lifted Mom’s favorite scarf from a hook, and wrapped it around my neck. She called it “her signature fashion statement,” and she wore it all the time. A 1960s Pucci print scarf sporting a jarring kaleidoscope of pink, green, and orange swirls.
I carried the suitcase back to my room. The cardboard box full of food sat in the hallway outside my door. Finn watched in silence while I packed up clothes and a few mementos. I stuffed my heavy winter parka into the suitcase; I bet I’d need a warm coat on the ranch. And some sturdy boots.
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