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  It’s him. He’s not a boy anymore. He’s come back from overseas as a man.

  And a badass one at that. I heard he’s a sharpshooter now. Or was. I wouldn’t know, since I did my best to stay far away from anyone who uttered his name. I had to.

  Now he’s home. I can’t believe it. I seriously cannot believe my eyes. If he was home, someone would have told me.

  It’s a small town, and people talk. They sure as hell talked when he broke my heart and left me. But I’ve been sick and stuck inside for days while I recover from this bug.

  I try to calm my racing heart and breathe easy, taking in the sight of his simple white tee shirt that’s snug over his broad shoulders and corded muscles. He’s always been tall, but his ripped muscles give him even more of a dominating presence. He has the same handsome face with a touch of stubble that has my fingers itching to touch him.

  His hair is short on the sides and a little longer on top. I could spear my fingers through the top and just barely grab onto it. It’s loosely styled so it looks a little messy, like he just rolled out of bed looking like a sex god.

  I search his body for every little change. And there’s a lot to look at. His muscles, his tattoos, his scars.

  A soft sigh escapes my lips as I remember how those arms used to hold me. My chest fills with a comforting warmth.

  His dog tags clink together as he turns slightly to the right.

  I suck in a breath with wide eyes and quickly duck back. I hide behind the loosely filled shelves, praying he didn’t see me. My heart races with anxiety, and my blood heats.

  I can’t believe Hunter’s back.

  He left me four years ago after high school graduation with a broken heart, taking a piece of me with him that I could never get back.

  He ruined my reputation.

  He shattered my trust in men.

  And now he’s back.

  CHAPTER 2

  HUNTER

  This town hasn’t changed a bit.

  I drive slowly through the main strip, looking at the too-familiar buildings. Since I’ve been gone, very little has changed in the landscape. A new diner at one end of town, a gas station at the other.

  But Hallow Falls looks about the same. It feels just like it did when I was younger. Younger and dumber, maybe.

  Hallow Falls may not have changed much, but I have.

  The sudden wave of nostalgia that comes over me is bittersweet, almost painful. After everything I left behind here, only to come back four years later empty-handed, it’s all a little overwhelming, to say the least. I feel like I’ve traveled back in time. Back before I ever enlisted in the Navy, before I ever thought about becoming a SEAL.

  When my hands were less blood-soaked.

  I frown at the steering wheel of my truck, trying to focus on driving to the store. Focus on the errand. But the images play through my head as I slow down at the stop light. The rain pounds against the metal roof of the truck, and logically I know it’s just drops of water, completely harmless, but for a moment I can easily hear the ricochet of bullets and the smattering of gunshots in its place.

  My heart beats faster, and my grip tightens on the steering wheel as though it’s my gun. My breathing comes in even, it always does, no matter how hard my heart hammers and my blood heats. Physically, I’m still. I have to concentrate, they’re all counting on me. I run my hand through my hair, trying to relax, but in my vision all I can see is the scope of the gun. Trying to find the bastards shooting bullets in our direction. The breeze from the cracked window morphs into the bullets whipping past me. I have to find them first. I can’t let them live, or we’ll all be dead.

  A loud beep of a horn makes my eyes shoot open; my heart is beating fast, and a sheen of cold sweat is over my skin. I slowly push the metal pedal down and easily continue the drive.

  I’m home. It’s just rain.

  My hands twist on the leather wheel and I relax my tense body, controlling my breathing and pushing away the thoughts and memories that haunt me. I’m home. It’s just rain.

  I haven’t gone anywhere since I’ve been home. I’ve got enough saved up that I can take my time figuring out what I’m gonna do next. My only job has been killing people for the last few years, and now I don’t know what’s left for me.

  I huff a humorless laugh and look out of my window at another shop that at least has a new coat of paint on it. I need to get out and start getting my shit together. I’d at least like to get the hell out of my parents' house. That was the plan when I came back home. I was only supposed to stay with them while I was looking for a place of my own. But I’ve been hesitant to put a bid on anything. I’m worried about leaving my niece, Abigail. My chest tightens with pain; I owe it to her. The thought of leaving makes me feel like I’m turning my back on her. She’s grown so much, and it’s hard to believe how much time has passed.

  My sister Haley hasn’t asked a lot from me since I came home. In fact, a late night run to the store is pretty much the only thing she’s wanted. It’s the least I can do. She deserves more than that from me.

  Mostly she’s either been busy chasing her daughter, Abigail, around the house and tucking her in for her naps and bedtime, or she’s kissing me on the cheek as she slips out of the house late at night. My parents watch her with furrowed brows and worried eyes, but she just laughs it off.

  Haley’s not at all like she used to be. She’s not the only one. And she has her reasons. Just like I do.

  So here I am, her Navy SEAL big brother, running this errand for her. While she’s off having fun at some bar, I’m getting milk for Abigail’s cereal in the morning.

  I try not to grip the steering wheel too hard as I slow and turn into the parking lot of the convenience store. Thinking about Abbi is almost like thinking about her father, and thinking about him is dangerous for me.

  Get your shit together, Hunter. He’s the real reason I’m back home. And I can’t stop seeing his face when I look at Abbi and Haley. It took me four years to come back. But he never will.

  I left this town with a bad boy reputation and came back to everyone looking at me like I’m some war hero. And I may be, but I don’t feel like one. I’m not a hero. I failed when it really mattered. Nothing can take that back.

  There are only a few cars parked in the rain-slicked lot, and I park near them as if I can blend in. My shoes squeak on the wet pavement as I walk through the parking lot, head down.

  When I walk in the door, I almost wince. It’s bright in here, that kind of bright that only grocery stores and hospitals ever are. Antiseptic.

  I look toward the checkout and see one sad old lady standing there looking bored. I almost recognize her. Something about her is familiar. But I don’t know how. I don’t much care either.

  The lady starts and looks my way.

  “Hi there!” she says, smiling at me and perking up as though she’s now awake. She’s wearing dark-rimmed eyeglasses, which I can see have thick lenses as I step closer and let the door close behind me, the chime of the bells sending another wave of familiarity through me.

  I try to return her smile as I wipe my boots off on the mat.

  I look away and try to remember why I’m even in here, but I can still feel her eyes on me and I feel a prickle of unease run down my spine. I turn away, looking to escape.

  I start to head down the nearest aisle, my mind tracing back to my earlier thought about Haley. I’m worried for her, and the guilt is weighing me down. Before I can think much more on it, I glance up and stop in my tracks.

  There’s someone in this aisle, a dark-haired woman wearing penguin pajamas just like the ones Violet used to have. Actually, the woman is about Vi’s size, too. My Vi.

  She was the first person I wanted to see when I came back. But I know better. Two of the three times I came home, she was away at school. I missed her. The guilt of breaking things off and leaving her never felt right. I know I loved her back then. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I didn’t expec
t it to hurt so damn much.

  The third time I came home was the last fucking time. Because I saw her. I knew she was in town, and I couldn’t resist seeing her. I wanted more; no woman’s ever come close to making me want her like Vi. But when I stopped by her place and looked in the window before knocking on her door, she was in another man’s lap. Her arm around his neck and laughing at something while he was leaning in for a kiss.

  It took everything in me not to break that fucking window. It’s what I deserved, and what I should’ve expected. I stormed off and refused to come back home. It’s been over two years since then.

  My teeth grind together, and my hands ball into fists at the memory. I left her. I had no right to be jealous, but I was. I still am. She’s never stopped being my Vi.

  There’s no way it’s her standing here in front of me now, but I can’t stop myself from calling her name out of instinct.

  “Violet?” I say with a hint of disbelief in my voice.

  She slowly turns around, although she’s slow to raise her eyes to meet mine.

  My heart hammers in my chest. It’s her.

  Standing there, wearing a soft cream sweater that’s a bit too big and those same damn pajama bottoms, like she’s on her way to bed. Her dark hair is thrown up into a ponytail. Her wide blue eyes and sweetheart features are still as perfect as the first time I saw them.

  Her curves are hidden by her baggy clothes, but I have no fucking doubt that she is just as hot as she was the last time I held her. Even frozen as I am, my body recognizes hers.

  I’m hard as a rock in seconds, and I make no effort to hide it either. The only sound is my blood rushing in my ears and the only thing I can see, is her. There’s a frisson of awareness that passes between us, a spark that can’t be denied and it finally unlocks me, lets me move.

  “Vi?” I say, taking a step toward her as the trace of a smile threatens to show itself. My blood heats, and all I wanna do is take her into my arms. But that look on her face is holding me back. She’s not mine, and she hasn’t been in a long damn time. Judging by the look on her face, she doesn’t want to be, and she doesn’t feel the same as I do.

  She takes a step back, looking defensive. She looks… well, not surprised to see me, but wary. I straighten my back and wait for her to calm down a bit. My mouth falls open, but I close it and clear my throat, not sure of what to say.

  The last time I talked to her was the day I left. The day she begged me to write to her. I wrote her so many damn letters. Still have them. I never sent a single one. I always thought my father was right to tell me to break it off with her, since I didn’t want to hurt her. But looking at her now, I regret it. And I did the one thing I tried to prevent. I’d take it all back if I could.

  “You’re back,” she says, little more than a whisper. Her eyes glass over some and she looks off to the right, her lips turned down as she swallows thickly.

  The sound of her voice is so familiar to me. I let my eyes close, as the feeling of being home resonates throughout my being. I’ve been walking around Hallow Falls for three days, wondering why I feel so foreign.

  But this… seeing her, hearing her…

  I open my eyes again and she’s staring at me, her mouth in a hard line. The sadness replaced with anger. My heart clenches in my chest.

  “Vi,” I say, wanting so badly to touch her. “Listen-”

  “Do us both a favor, and stay the hell away from me,” she says with a touch of venom in her voice that I’ve never heard from her. Her words hit me like a slap in the face. It fucking hurts.

  She moves in a wide circle, edging past the chips to get around me. They crinkle as she brushes against them to avoid touching me in the slightest. It pisses me off, but that’s what I get. I’m not surprised she doesn’t want to hear a word out of my mouth.

  “Violet,” I say with a hint of a warning in my tone as my hands ball into fists, but she doesn’t stop.

  I follow her, but she just walks out of the store, can of soup in her hand. She’s pissed. She storms off and I think about chasing her down, but I don’t know what I’d even tell her. I turn to the cashier as if expecting an explanation, but she just gives me a bland smile. I watch Vi get in her car and take off. She never looks back at me.

  Shit. That could’ve gone better.

  I exhale and retrace my steps, heading for the case with the milk. All the while, though, my mind is focused on her. I open the door all pissed off and wanting to rip it off the hinges. The cold hits my face, and I welcome it. I need to calm down.

  Violet Evelyn Shaw. The first and only girl I ever told that I loved, the girl who stuck by my side through thick and thin, all through childhood and the beginnings of adulthood.

  The girl whose heart I fucking shredded four years ago, when I joined the Navy and left her behind.

  As I pay for the milk and leave the store, I know I have to make it right. Even if she doesn’t feel anything for me anymore, I don’t want this bad blood between us. She’s the first thing that feels right since I’ve been home. I want her though. I can’t deny that. It’s the only thing I know.

  I’ve had years to think about Violet and everything we had together. I only left her because I thought it was the right thing to do. My own father told me not to promise her anything, so I'd broken it off, thinking she deserved better than what I could give her. I thought she’d be better off without waiting on a SEAL who might not come back to her.

  I thought of her every day since I’ve been gone, filled with nothing but regret.

  I walk out of the store, keeping my head low to avoid the rain and get into my truck wishing life wasn’t this shitty. I leave the parking lot, tires squealing on the slick cement, cursing myself.

  I can think whatever I want about those halcyon days, but I can’t change what I did.

  I drive home silently, mind in the past, back to when I ended it between us. Back when she was mine.

  Now I’m home, and she’s moved on. But one look at her, and I want her back. I have no idea what to do with the rest of my life, but I know I want her in it.

  CHAPTER 3

  VIOLET

  V i. I keep hearing Hunter say my name over and over as I lean against my kitchen counter, staring out the balcony window into nothing. Well not my name, but the nickname he gave me. The one that used to make me melt into him.

  That bastard can’t call me Vi anymore.

  That was something special. It meant something more to me. Something that he ruined.

  The microwave beeps and I make my way across my small kitchen and open up the door. I cringe a bit; I need to go in and give the shop the money for the soup. I didn’t even realize I’d taken it without paying until I got home. Or that I didn't get any cough syrup. I sigh heavily. I don’t touch the bowl, since I don’t have an appetite anymore. I’m sick to my stomach over seeing him. I’m just going through the motions.

  My heart sinks in my chest. I was cold to him, and I feel awful about putting that hurt look on his face. I bite the inside of my cheek and brace myself against the counter, staring aimlessly at the corners of the tile floor.

  I may have been a bit mean to him, but I have to look out for me.

  He’s the one who taught me that. That I have to take care of myself, and that means keeping that man at a distance.

  I reach for the bowl as my cat, Boots, sprawls across the welcome mat at the balcony door. His tabby coloring nearly blends into the mat, but his paws are completely white. Thus the name, Boots. Usually when he does that, it means he wants attention and pets. That’s not happening right now, Boots.

  I grab the bowl and slam the door to the microwave shut, as if it’s the reason I’m so pissed off and upset at the same time.

  It only takes a few steps in this cramped kitchen to get to the small two-person table in the breakfast nook. I sit down and will myself to eat and stop thinking about Hunter.

  But he was looking at me like he wanted me, and I’ve dreamed of that look so many ti
mes. I’d given up on it though. I stopped seeing his face and hearing his name. After four long years, he’s back.

  The spoon clinks against the side of the bowl as I stir the noodles in the broth. It smells so good. It reminds me of comfort.

  I’m anything but comfortable though.

  Nothing’s been the same since he left. He didn’t just dump me and leave. It’s not that easy in a small town.

  He broke up with me and left me ruined. Everyone knew I’d given myself to him. The way we were always together. The way I let him hold me.

  I was proud of it before; I loved the way he held me close as though I belonged to him. But because of that, everyone knew. And even worse, everyone talked.

  I force a bite of the soup down as Boots brushes himself against my legs. I can’t wallow over this. That’s exactly what I’m doing, though. Seeing him was like opening a wound that had only started to heal.

  To add insult to injury, the asshole I dated in college told everyone that Hunter fucked me, as he so delicately put it. Adam asked me if I’d done anything before, and I told him. I trusted him. Then he ran his mouth when I ended things because I didn’t want to take things so fast. After that jerk I stayed away from men. Not that there are many to choose from anyway.

  My cheeks burn from embarrassment. I’ve never been with anyone other than Hunter. In four years, I’ve never even wanted another man.

  No one can blame me. I tried, but Hunter did ruin me.

  Yet everyone in this town looked at me like I was some slut.

  Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to cry. I’ve done my fair share of that. I promised myself I was over him and over this damn town and their gossip.

  Instead I focused on school and work.

  My boss finally retired a few months ago, selling me the shop, so now I own the Sweet Treats Bakery.

  I’m somewhat stable for the first time in my life.

  And now he shows up.

  I’ve got my apartment, my job and my cat. I don’t need him coming into my life and leaving me brokenhearted again.