At Last (37 page)

Staggered, she stared at him. “But you don’t do love.”

“I never said that. I said love hasn’t worked out for me. But all it takes is the right one. You’re the right one.”

No one had ever said such a thing to her before, and it made her heart swell hard against her ribcage. “I love you, Matt. So much.”

He smiled like she’d just given him the best gift he’d ever had. She settled against his good side, and they
stared up at the star-laden sky. “I knew I’d find something on this journey,” she said. “I wasn’t sure what, but I knew it’d be something special.”

They pulled into the North District office at nine a.m., one full hour late, and Matt knew that hour was going to cost him, in a big way.

He didn’t regret being late. Couldn’t. He’d meant what he’d said to Amy, that he was no longer putting his job ahead of his life. That had been habit, a self-preservation technique.

And it was chicken shit.

He’d learned something about himself here in Lucky Harbor.

The town trusted him. His friends trusted him. Amy trusted him. And he could trust himself and let happiness in.

Amy was his happiness.

The ranger station parking lot wasn’t usually a hotbed of activity, but this morning the entire lot was jam-packed with cars.

“What’s going on?” Amy asked.

Matt was staring at the lot. “I have no idea.”

They got out looking like a ragtag team from
The Amazing Race
. Matt was still shirtless, the sling in place. Amy’s clothes were torn from her breathless, in-the-dark climb down to where Matt had fallen. She was disheveled and glowing.

Not from the climb.

Just looking at her warmed Matt from the inside out.

“Mallory’s car is here,” Amy said, pointing it out. “And Grace’s. And isn’t that Josh’s car? And Ty’s truck?
And Sawyer’s cop car? What—Why is everyone here? Do you think they’re all here supporting you?”

Yeah, that’s exactly what he thought.

Proving it, the station door opened, and people filed out, his coworkers, and then Jan, Lucille, Lucille’s entire posse… half the town.

“What the hell?” Matt said.

Sawyer reached him first. “Got Riley’s assailant in custody. The idiot showed up at the diner last night with a knife, threatening everyone in sight if they didn’t produce Riley, and Jan beaned him with a frying pan. She’s pressing charges, and Riley will do the same.” Sawyer looked at Amy. “Jan told Riley that they were even now. The slate was cleared, and Riley could rent out that little hole-in-the-wall studio apartment above the diner if she wanted.”

Ty and Josh reached them. Josh’s attention narrowed in on Matt’s makeshift splint. “Ah, hell,” he said, sliding the torn shirt aside, examining the shoulder until Matt hissed in a breath. “You did it again, didn’t you?”

Lucille pushed her way between the two big men, barely coming up past their elbows. “Well?” she demanded of Matt. “I came out here and missed my morning talk shows. The least you can do is give me an exclusive quote on the situation.”

Matt shook his head. “I don’t know the situation.”

Lucille went brows up, looking as if she’d just swallowed the canary. “So if I told you that we all came here to see your sexy tush fired, you’d believe me?”

Matt slid a look to Josh and Ty, both of whom were wearing dark sunglasses and matching solemn expressions, giving nothing away. Some help.

Lucille smiled and patted him on the chest like he was a sad puppy. “Aw, you’re too cute to tease. We all came this morning to plead your case. Ty and Josh here told your boss that you couldn’t be here because you were busy saving a woman who’d gone into the forest alone.” She turned to Amy. “Did you need saving again, honey?”

“Actually,” Matt said, holding her tight to his good side. “She saved
me
.”

“Sweet,” Lucille said. “I saved you, too, don’t forget.” She elbowed Ty. “See, Facebook isn’t
completely
evil.” She beamed with pride. “Oh, and you’re cleared of any inquiries or blights on your record,” she said to Matt casually. “Those Facebook pics were pretty damning.” She turned to Amy. “I was thinking an exclusive show.”

“Show?”

“Your art. You came to Lucky Harbor to follow your grandma’s decades-old adventure, hoping for the same life-changing experiences, right? Do you have any idea what a great story that makes to go with the art? It’s fantastic. I can’t even make that stuff up. You’re going to sell like hotcakes. We’re going to make buckets of money.”

“How did you know all that?” Amy asked. “About my grandma and everything?”

“Honey, I know all. The question is, did you get your life-changing experience?”

Amy looked at Matt and smiled. “I did.”

Matt’s entire heart turned over in his chest. “Damn,” he said, pulling her in. “Damn, I love you.”

“Watch the arm!” Josh warned.

“He’s not watching that arm,” Ty said as Matt kissed Amy again.

“Christ,” Josh said.

Matt ignored them all and kept kissing Amy. A surge of emotion rocked him to his core when she responded with everything she had, and the kiss got even a little more heated. He was vaguely aware of everyone cheering and hooting and hollering, but he didn’t give a shit. He had everything he ever wanted, at last.

Raising his head, he looked down at the woman whose smile made it seem as if she were lit up from within. She was filthy, exhausted, probably half starved, and a complete mess. But she took his breath and owned his heart, and he’d never seen anything more beautiful. “Be mine, Amy.”

“I already am.”

4 large eggs

1 cup of sugar

1 cup of brown sugar

1 cup of butter (2 sticks)

1 1/2 cups of sifted cocoa powder

2 tsp of vanilla

1/2 cup of sifted flour

1/2 tsp of salt

Use the mixer to beat the eggs on medium speed until they turn light yellow. Add both sugars and salt. Mix well. Then gradually add the rest of the ingredients: vanilla, butter, cocoa powder, and flour. Keep mixing until it is all combined but the batter is still lumpy.

Pour into an 8" x 8" greased, nonstick pan and place it in the oven at 300 degrees. After 45 minutes, use a toothpick to check the brownies. Check every five minutes for a total cooking time of up to 60 minutes. When the toothpick comes out clean, remove brownies and let them cool before you cut them.

Voila! Your chocolate fix.

Chocolate makes the world go around.

T
ired, edgy, and more than a little scared that she was never going to get her life on the happy track, Grace Brooks dropped into the back booth of the diner and sagged against the red vinyl seat. “I could really use a drink.”

Mallory, in wrinkled scrubs, just coming off an all-night shift at the ER, snorted as she crawled into the booth as well. “It’s eight in the morning.”

“Hey, it’s happy hour somewhere.” This from their third musketeer, Amy, who was wearing a black tee, a black denim skirt with lots of zippers and kick-ass boots, the tough girl ensemble softened by the bright pink Eat Me apron she was forced to wear while waitressing. “Pick your poison.”

“Actually,” Grace said with a yawn. “I was thinking hot chocolate.”

“Or that,” Amy said. “Be right back.”

Good as her word, she reappeared with a tray of
steaming hot chocolate and big, fluffy chocolate pancakes. “Chocoholics unite.”

Four months ago Grace had come west from New York for a Seattle banking job, until she’d discovered that putting out for the boss was part of the deal. Leaving the offer on the table, she’d gotten into her car and driven as far as the tank of gas could take her, ending up in the little Washington State beach town of Lucky Harbor. That same night she’d gotten stuck in this very diner during a freak snowstorm with two strangers.

Mallory and Amy.

With no electricity and a downed tree blocking their escape, the three of them had spent a few scary hours soothing their nerves by eating their way through a very large chocolate cake. After that, meeting over chocolate cake became habit—until they’d accidentally destroyed the inside of the diner in a certain candle incident that wasn’t to be discussed. Jan, the owner of Eat Me, had refused to let them meet over cake anymore, so the Chocoholics had switched to brownies for a while. Grace was thinking of making a motion for chocolate cupcakes as the next dessert. It was important to have the right food for those meetings, as dissecting their lives—specifically their lack of love lives—was hard work. Except these days Amy and Mallory actually
had
love lives.

Grace did not.

Amy disappeared and came back with butter and syrup. She untied and tossed aside her apron and sat, pushing the syrup to Grace.

“I love you,” Grace said with great feeling as she took her first bite of delicious goodness.

Not one to waste her break, Amy toasted her with a pancake-loaded fork dripping syrup and kept eating.

Not Mallory, who was still carefully spreading butter on her pancakes, her diamond engagement ring catching the light with every movement. “You going to tell us what’s wrong, Grace?”

Grace stilled for a beat, surprised that Mallory had been able to read her. “I didn’t say anything was wrong.”

“You’re mainlining a stack of six pancakes like your life depends on it.”

This was a true statement. But nothing was wrong exactly. Except… everything.