Sable Peak (The Edens, #6)

by Devney Perry

He strode into the room wearing a pair of faded jeans and a black plaid shirt with its sleeves rolled up his forearms. It hung open, revealing a white T-shirt underneath that pulled tight across his broad chest. A silver and gold belt buckle gleamed beneath a flat stomach. His brown cowboy boots were scuffed and faded. Like the other Edens, he had dark hair and sapphire eyes. It was the playful grin that set him apart. The mischievous smirk on his soft lips. The sharp corners of his stubbled jaw and the twinkle in his blue gaze. This kitchen was full of beautiful people. He put them all to shame.

“Hey.” He dipped his chin, like he was tipping an invisible hat. “I’m Mateo.” That name locked into place for all time. Mateo.

He was the light. My light. The shining star that chased away the dark.

“I’m done waiting for you to see me.” I flew from the bar. I ran. And as I raced down Quincy’s sidewalks, I put my love for Mateo away. I shoved it in that locked box. And buried it down deep.

I’m done waiting for you to see me. I saw Vera. I’d always seen Vera. She was sweet. Strong. Her hair went wild sometimes and she’d get so annoyed she’d rake it into a ponytail with a huff that always made me chuckle. She loved cherry tomatoes. I hated them but always thought it would be weird to offer her food from my plate because that was something couples did and we weren’t a couple.

“I love you, Vera. I fucking love you. I won’t leave you. And I won’t let you go.”

“How’s the weather, Peach?” “Better than I expected,” she whispered. “It started overcast and gray.” “And now?” She smiled. “Clear and a million.”