After Teagan left Jackson Brews last night, I went to break it off with Myla. Unfortunately, she’d already left. When I texted her this morning, I found out she’s out of town for a conference for the next few days. Even if we were casual, I hated ending things over a text, but I couldn’t risk Myla blowing our cover in front of Teagan’s family when she comes back to town. I told her I was seeing Teagan and we were going to be exclusive. Her response left little doubt in my mind as to how Myla feels about the sudden change to our relationship.

Three words: Wow. Fine then.

After getting that curt response, I was glad I could have the conversation with Beth in person, but now, I’m suddenly dreading it.

“Hey, Carter,” Beth says, flipping her red hair over one shoulder.

Teagan blinks up at me. “Do you know everyone?”

“Beth’s a good friend of mine,” I say. “She used to work at the department with me.”

Beth folds her arms and fights a smile. I know her well enough to know she’s thinking, Yeah, and we fuck on a semi-regular basis.

Teagan shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Beth. I knew that. I swear, I forget what a small world Jackson Harbor is.”

“No worries,” Beth says, her eyes darting back and forth between Teagan and me, as if she can judge the status of our relationship by nothing more than the air between us. “I forget too, believe it or not.”

Her words are heavy with meaning, and I can tell she’s not going to talk about us in front of Teagan, but there is a conversation to be had. I shake my head—later. “Teagan, can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure.” She puts down her pen and swings around the nurse’s station. I fall into step beside her, and she leads the way to an empty room labeled “family comfort area.” Inside, there’s a television, a couch, a couple of chairs, and a shelf stacked with paperbacks and magazines.

“Are you going to get in trouble because of Shasta?”

“Isaiah’s mom?” Teagan grins. “Oh, hell no. Shaun wanted to get her out of the room. I’ll talk to Isaiah’s guardian, and if she agrees, Shasta won’t be allowed on the unit next time she tries to visit.”

“Marta will agree. She’s had enough of Shasta to last her many lifetimes.” I exhale. “He doesn’t need her around while he’s trying to recover.”

“How do you know him?”

“Isaiah is Max Goldright’s son.”

“And Max is . . .” I see the moment the name snaps into place for her. Sympathy casts shadows over her face. “He was on your team at the fire department. He was the one who died at that warehouse.”

The one who died. The one who should still be here raising his son. “Max was raising Isaiah on his own, so Isaiah had to move in with his grandma after . . .” An unwelcome surge of emotion presses down on my chest. I focus on my breath. In and out.