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.

I almost dropped my coffee as Mateo strode inside carrying a box. Would my heart ever not do cartwheels when he was around?

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

Someday, I wanted a man to see me the way Vance saw Lyla. To love me with his whole heart.

“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.

She was beautiful. Vera had a beauty not a soul would miss. “Will you give Allie a birthday kiss for me?” she asked. Sad. Tired. Embarrassed. But she’d still remembered Allie’s birthday. Because Vera loved my daughter. My daughter loved Vera. That meant something. That meant everything. I’m done waiting for you to see me. Something shifted beneath my feet like moving sand. Things in my chest, around my brain, rearranged. It was like a deck of cards being shuffled. There was before. This was after.

“You’re flying an airplane, Peach.” Peach? Where the hell had that come from? It had just . . . slipped out. Like I should have been calling her Peach for years. Like the way I’d started calling Alaina Sprout. One day she didn’t have a nickname. The next, she did. And Peach was Vera’s.

Clear and a million. Today, I was seeing clear and a million.

“Will you teach me to fly?” she asked. Spend hours and hours with her, alone and above the world? “Absolutely.”

“Vera, get your stuff.” “But you just said okay.” “Okay, as in you can study at home. Allie sleeps best in her bed. And I want you in mine.” Her cheeks pinkened. It never got old.

I leaned against the corner of the cabin and enjoyed the view. My view. This was mine. He was mine. I was keeping him forever.

“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.”

“I love you.” Nothing else mattered. On the hardest days of her life, I’d be here to remind her that I loved her.

Vera was kneeling by the tub when we made it to the door. Allie reached for her. “Ve-wa.” “Mommy,” I corrected, my voice low enough that Vera couldn’t hear with the water sloshing. The days of Ve-wa were gone. “That’s Mommy.” Allie rested her head against my shoulder, her dark little eyebrows coming together. “Mommy.”

“I don’t understand this note,” Vera said. “What did you write him?” “That I was going to marry you.” She jerked in my arms, her head whipping up to mine. “W-what?”

“Because you fight so often.” “For you, I’d fight them all.”

“Let’s hide out here for a few more minutes. Make a wish on a shooting star.” “You get the wishes.” “You don’t have any?” “They already came true.”

No one moved. Because here, inside this house, in this kitchen, was our party. Mom and Dad. Griffin and Winn. Knox and Memphis. Foster and Talia. Jasper and Eloise. Vance and Lyla. Vera and me. Some of us hadn’t started with the last name Eden. Some of us had changed it with marriage. But every person in this house claimed it. We were the Edens.