Irene’s smile slipped. A cicada started singing outside the window. “Drink,” Irene said. “Before I change my mind.”

“One last thing?”

Irene crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.

“I like the shop. It suits you.”

“I… Thank you.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder, then stood and started putting the jars back in their places.

Kaden sipped in silence. When he’d almost finished, Irene reached for the cup. Her fingers brushed his, and something in his chest hitched. Her eyes held his for a second before she pulled the mug away. She swirled it three times and upended it on a saucer. Then she flipped it back over, quick.

Kaden leaned toward her, close enough to smell the lavender sticking to the porcelain. But she didn’t pull away as he looked over her shoulder and into the cup. A few noncommittal sounds slipped from her mouth, and she pressed her lips together. Without warning, she stood, cup in hand. She crossed to the front door and flipped the sign to Closed.

“You have plans this afternoon?” she asked.

“Just avoiding an inevitable family reunion.”

“Good. I need more-practiced eyes on this.” She started down the hallway and toward the back door. “Come with me.”

Kaden scrambled out of his chair and followed her, though he wasn’t really sure why. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, a sedan had pulled in beside Irene’s pickup, and Clem Hamilton stepped out of the driver’s side door.

She glanced from Kaden to Irene and back to Kaden.

She tilted her head to the side. “Friend of yours?”

“You remember Kaden Bonner?” Irene asked.

Clem’s eyes went wide.

He lifted a hand in greeting.

“Surprised to see you back in Yarrow,” Clem said.

“You and me both,” Kaden said.

“What brings you home?” Then her face paled. “Oh, shit. You’re here for the funeral.”

“I’m here for a lot of things,” he said.

“Sorry for your loss,” Clem mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Kaden said. “I’m not. My dad was a dick.”

Clem’s eyebrows rose, but she nodded. “Guess it runs in the family.” Then to Irene, “Is this your visitor?”

Irene let out a long sigh and held out his teacup. “That’s what I’m hoping to find out.” She glanced at Kaden. “Get in.”

He looked from her to the truck, then to Clem.

“I wouldn’t keep her waiting,” Clem said.

Chapter 10

Irene

Irene glanced at Kaden as she drove. Took in his leather jacket, his brown hair shot through with a slight dusting of silver, his salt-and-pepper beard. She’d put him around her age, forty-six, maybe a year or two older—strange that she couldn’t remember just how much older he was than his brother. He was devilishly handsome, like all the Bonners. His dark eyes narrowed as they drove past the wrought-iron fence of his family’s estate.