The image of his recurring nightmare flashed before his eyes.

He was running down the road with his mother, laughing while she chased him, her daisy-yellow dress blowing in the wind. He heard the car ahead but ignored it, too intent on the game he adored. When he realized she’d stopped chasing him, Dalton looked back.

A strange man stepped out of the car and held out his hand. His mother paused in front of the man, glancing once toward Dalton. He waited for her to tell the man to go away and keep chasing him, but she didn’t. Instead, she smiled at the man, climbed into the car, and disappeared down the road.

In shock, Dalton began running after her, wondering if this was a brand-new game and she was just teasing him. He saw the taillights flash, and he ran faster, closing the distance. The shriek of brakes echoed in the air, followed by the crash of metal hitting metal. He screamed and ran faster, and faster, and faster . . .

The car was in flames. His mother cried, trapped behind the shattering glass, imprisoned by the strange man who held her captive. In that one final moment, their gazes met and she mouthed the last two words she’d ever utter.

I’m sorry.

The car exploded.

Dalton shook his head hard. The nightmare had haunted him for the first year after his mother’s death, then receded for a while. But it was always there, like the bogeyman in the closet, ready to pounce after a stressful or emotional day. He’d had it again last week for the first time in months, as if it was a sign of something to come.

Opening up the balcony door, he took a calming breath and cradled his hands around the telescope. The stars glittered and beckoned, a million different stories and possibilities tangled together, full of pure and blinding light.

Even happy endings.

Dalton studied the stars.

chapter fourteen

Raven looked around the bar.

It was perfect.

Pride and joy mixed together and rushed through her system. Mahogany and bronze gleamed with high polish. The magnificent blended wood of the stools perfectly accented the brick wall behind. The old, ripped vinyl booths had been torn out and replaced by sturdy blocked tables and dark leather, blending into the walls instead of standing out, allowing the bar to shine as the main feature. The two game tables were strategically placed across from the pool table and dartboard, allowing a bit of separation to offset the balance of gaming and show off the antique beauty. Dalton had helped with the layout, able to envision what an onlooker focused on and how to get the most bang for her visual dollar.

He’d worked an insane schedule this past week in order to deliver everything in time for the interview. The crew would be here within the hour and she was so nervous, her tummy was jumping around in a wild dance. Dalton had checked in with her this morning to make sure she had everything she needed, and then they’d shared this strange silence that held more emotional undertones than she could handle. Finally he’d wished her luck and hung up.

So he was officially out of her life. Kind of. The work was complete, and the only time she had to see him was at her bar to serve him drinks and food. Sure, she wanted more information about his parents, but being around him was getting a bit too dangerous.

Raven might have to back off.

Her cell jumped. When she glanced at the caller ID, a relieved smile curved her lips. She pressed the button. “About time you called to check in with me. What’s going on with hot cop?”

Her best friend, Izzy, gave a husky laugh. “He’s still hot and all mine. Wanted to wish you luck on the interview. Of course, you’re gonna kick ass and become famous, and travelers all over the world will flock to My Place just to get a taste of your exotic cocktails. Make sure you don’t forget about the little people, babe.”

“You could never be little if you tried.”

She’d met Isabelle MacKenzie at a party in upstate New York, and they’d immediately bonded. Like two halves of a whole, they were both on the search to forget the past, bury their pain, and exploit every pleasure. They’d gotten their tattoos together, commiserated over sleeping with all the wrong guys together, and traveled with only a backpack to places young girls should avoid. Izzy was her soul sister, fellow mischief maker, and best friend in the world.

Unfortunately, when Izzy had gotten hooked on drugs, their friendship had become strained, but Raven was there to not only push her into rehab but hold her when she finally broke. Izzy had a twin sister, but there’d been a falling-out, so she’d turned to Raven to help get her life back on track. Izzy was doing well now, living in Verily, New York, with her sister and working at the local matchmaking agency, Kinnections. She’d also met a hot cop who seemed to be her perfect match. Izzy was finally happy, clean, and sober, and they’d both stopped chasing disaster around every corner.

They’d finally grown up.

“I’m nervous I’ll say something stupid and they’ll print it and no one will come back to the restaurant,” Raven admitted.

Izzy seemed to consider. “Could happen. But if you said something stupid, it would probably have the opposite effect. It will go viral, and everyone will want to come check you out to see why you said something that stupid.”

Raven laughed and shook her head. “You’re probably right. I miss you. Can you come visit soon?”

“Definitely. I’ll bring Liam with me so you can get to know each other. Anyone I should be meeting?”

Raven hesitated. “Maybe.”

“You don’t want to tell yet?”

She blew out a breath. “He’s been doing work on the bar for me. He’s sexy as hell, smart, charming, and we have a crazy connection.”

“Problem?”

“His mother is the one who ran off with my father. His name is Dalton Pierce.”

Shocked silence settled over the line. Izzy whistled. “Umm, okay. Wow, didn’t see that coming. Coincidence isn’t a big enough word for this.”

“I know.”

“How do you feel about him?”

The question was too direct. She closed her eyes, trying to avoid her friend’s probing. “I’m not ready to explore it yet. I think it may be better to stay away.”

“Did you tell him?”

“No, and I don’t want to. Maybe it will go away. Maybe it’s just a passing sexual connection and when he moves on, we won’t even think of each other again.”