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.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mateo.”

I took Mateo’s hand, his palm warm and calloused and big enough to envelop mine. It was the first time we’d touched.

Never in my life had I wanted to lick a man’s throat. Until now.

“You look pretty tonight.” This was the best wedding of my life. “Thanks.”

That man had the most perfect ass I’d seen in my life. My hands itched to slide into those pockets and squeeze. My cheeks flushed and I tore my gaze away. And found Anne’s eyes, waiting.

This was enough. This had to be enough. Mateo was never going to think of me as anything other than an honorary member of the Eden family. He was never going to see me. He was never going to love me. It wasn’t fair. I’d worked so hard these past two years. On the dark days, when I’d almost given up hope, I’d kept going. I’d come so far. I’d waited for him. I’d waited and waited and waited.

“Don’t say ‘Hey.’ And no. I’m not okay.” I squared my shoulders. “I’m not your sister.” “My sister?” His forehead furrowed.

“He’s allergic to shellfish,” I told the blond.

“His favorite color is blue. He loves snap peas but only if there is ranch to dip them in. Almost everything he buys for his daughter is purple.”

“You have a daughter?” He ignored her, his stare fixed on me.

“He’s a pilot but he doesn’t fly anymore. I don’t know why. He’ll drop anything to help his sisters or brothers. He wears brown boots with a black belt even though they don’t match.”

“He’s a morning person. He drinks black coffee. He’s really good at math and can add numbers in his head faster than anyone I’ve ever met. He looks magical when he’s riding a horse. And light follows him. It’s always sunny when he’s around.”

“He won’t treat you like you’re broken, even when you are,” I whispered as the tears streamed. “Vera.” Mateo’s voice had a rasp,

And before Mateo could say another word, I pressed my lips to his, holding that soft mouth for two aching heartbeats before I pulled away. He stared at me, his face unreadable.

“I’m done waiting for you to see me.”

How was it that I could still feel her lips, soft and sweet, on mine?

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.

“It finally happened, didn’t it?”

“You knew?” “I’ve watched for years, wondering if and when you’d notice.” “Thanks for the warning.”

“I’m sorry. I never knew what to say. I thought it would fade. Or that maybe...

“I noticed her, Mom. It wasn’t that I didn’t notice her. But I didn’t think . . . I didn’t know she felt that way.” Vera ...

Mom put her hand on my arm....

“Eyes wide open.”

“I love you, Mateo. And I love Vera. No matter what, just be gentle with her heart.”

“You’re not broken.”

“Everything you said last night was right. Except that. It’s the one thing you got wrong.”

“You’re the most courageous person I’ve ever met, Vera. You’re not broken. When I think about your strength . . . if Allie gets just a fraction of that when she’s grown, I’ll be grateful.”

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.”

“I see you, Vera.” The emotions swelled so big in my chest I couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t know how to navigate this. It’s . . . weird. I made it weird at Willie’s.” “No, you didn’t.”

“You made it clear. And if it makes you feel better, I’m not exactly sure how to navigate this either.”

“We’ll find our way together,”

“What?” “I want to kiss you.”

“Tell me yes. Tell me you want my mouth as much as I want yours.” “I—” Her breath hitched. “Yes.”

“You kissed me last week.” I gulped. “Sorry?” “You should be sorry.”

“You kissed me before I could kiss you back.” “Oh.” My. God.

“My turn.”

This kiss was better than I ever could have imagined. All those nights I’d wondered what it would be like to kiss Mateo? The dream couldn’t compete with reality.

“I promised you slow,” he said. “I never asked for slow.”

“I want to do this right. For your first time.”

“It wouldn’t be my first time.”