BONUS EPILOGUE

TINKER

“Are you sitting down?” My best friend, Carrie, sounded breathless over the phone. “Do you have wine? I have news. Big news.”

My hand halted, wineglass inches from my mouth. Damn, she knew me far too well . . . You’re getting predictable with old age.

“Yes, I’m sitting on the porch with my wine, just like every Sunday afternoon,” I admitted. “Just half a bottle, though. It’s been a shitty week—I’ve earned it. Am I going to need more?”

“Maybe,” she said, her voice far too serious. Uh oh. “You know your sexy tenant? The one who’s been doing all that work around the building, and mowing the lawn without his shirt?”

“I’m aware,” I replied dryly, taking another sip of wine. “I’m the one who invited you over to watch him with me, remember?”

It wasn’t something I was proud of, but I’d developed quite the weakness for my newest tenant, Cooper Romero. He’d been living in the unit directly behind my house, which fronted one side of the C-shaped apartment building my parents had owned my entire life. He was gorgeous, friendly, nice, and had a girlfriend who was not only hotter than hell, she was probably fifteen years younger than me. Seeing as I pegged him at my own age or slightly older, I obviously wasn’t his type.

Didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the view.

“Well, something big happened down in Ellensburg yesterday, at the car show. You know he’s been hanging out with the motorcycle club a lot, right?”

“Yes, I’d noticed,” I said, my voice turning sour. I wasn’t a fan of the club, at least not in recent years. They’d always been a part of the town, but lately they’d gotten out of hand. People were scared of them these days, and with good reason.

“Well, they got in some kind of big fight and tore up a bar. Then the cops arrested all of them. Not just the guys in the club, but anyone with them, and Cooper was right in the thick of it.”

“What?” I asked, sitting up. Cooper didn’t seem like the violent type. I mean, he was big and tough and all that, but he was always so gentle with me. I’d thought the time he was spending with the Nighthawks was just because of his girlfriend, Talia.

Their president was an asshole and a bully, and his sister—the hated girlfriend, and yes, I’m saying that out of petty jealousy—was flat-out mean. She’d caught me staring at him a while back and threatened me. Like, seriously threatened me. With a knife.

Said she’d cut me if I touched her man.

Despite all that, I’d held out hope for Cooper. I mean, he was definitely a biker, but he’d been fantastic about doing work around the place in exchange for reduced rent. Reliable. Friendly, even. We’d had a few dinners together, watched a movie one evening. I’d have thought he was interested in me if Talia wasn’t spending four or five nights a week at his place.

Screwing the skinny little witch was bad enough, but this business of getting arrested . . . that was a bigger deal.

“Guess I didn’t know him as well as I thought,” I admitted, stomach churning. “Although anyone can get caught up in a bar fight. Just because they arrested him doesn’t mean—”

“There were drugs,” she added, and I heard genuine regret in her voice. “Lots of drugs. Meth, apparently. I guess a bunch of the guys were carrying it.”

I coughed. “Meth?”

“Yup,” she said. “They aren’t saying what’ll happen to them, but it’s not good. This might be the end of the club here in Hallies Falls. I wonder if he has drugs in his apartment. You should go check—if he’s dealing, you need him out of there. You can’t trust a guy just because he’s hot and mows the lawn without a shirt.”

Lifting my glass, I chugged it dry. My nose prickled, and I sniffed. Shit, why was this bothering me so much? It wasn’t like I really even knew him.

“Thanks for telling me,” I said. “Guess that’s one fantasy man I can cross off the list.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied. “But it’s for the best. If he’s a bad guy, it’s better to find out now so you can evict his ass. That club has gotten worse and worse, everyone knows it.”

“I can’t evict someone for getting arrested. That’s illegal.”

“It’s a month-to-month lease, right?” she asked. “You don’t need a reason. Just give him thirty days’ notice and get rid of him. You don’t want that kind of trash around your place, Tinker. You’ve got enough on your plate already.”

Carrie was a great friend, but she’d always been bossy, ever since kindergarten. She’d given me the information, which I appreciated, but I also wanted to process it on my own.

“I have to go, Carrie. There’s someone coming, one of the other tenants. I’ll talk to you later.”

Hanging up the phone, I looked across the empty porch toward the equally empty sidewalk, wondering why the news about Cooper bothered me so much.

Had I really been stupid enough to actually fall for him?

Maybe a little bit.

Crap.

Reaching for the wine bottle, I refilled my glass. Should I evict him? It seemed like common sense to get rid of a potential troublemaker, but one of the main reasons I’d left Hallies Falls all of ten minutes after my high school graduation was to get away from the gossips. This town was full of small-minded, judgmental people who wouldn’t hesitate to brand someone for life for one stupid mistake.

No, I wouldn’t evict him.

Cooper had been arrested, but he hadn’t been convicted. Innocent until proven guilty—that’s how I’d approach this. I’d give him the same respect that I wished people had given me.

•   •   •

It was just after ten that night. I leaned forward into my mirror, rubbing moisturizer on my face and wondering if the tiny lines at the edges of my eyes were bigger than they were yesterday. Of course not, that was ridiculous . . . but I was definitely getting older, no question.

Thirty-six.

Only four years from forty, which meant I’d be officially middle-aged soon. I wasn’t ready to be middle-aged—half the time I hardly felt like an adult. It wasn’t fair. The roar of a motorcycle outside caught my attention, and I walked over to my bedroom’s second-story window to look outside.

There he was—Cooper.

I watched as he backed the bike into the curb, then swung his leg over, glancing toward my house. The outdoor lights he’d installed for me less than a week earlier cast long shadows in the darkness, and I cocked my head. Something was different. I studied him, trying to figure out what it was. He wore his usual leather boots and faded jeans. Dark hair pulled back in a braid, leather vest with . . . Wait. This wasn’t the one he’d been wearing every other time I’d seen him. That one had a Harley Davidson patch on the back, but this looked more like what the Nighthawk Raiders MC wore. Not the same as theirs, but the same style.

I waited for him to walk over to his apartment entrance, a small doorway off the ground floor not far from where he’d parked. Instead he started around the side of the building toward my porch. Crap, he was obviously coming to talk to me, and here I was without any makeup, my hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wearing jammies. Not sexy jammies, either, just a pair of boy shorts and an old T-shirt that’d been washed so many times I’d forgotten its original design.

Downstairs, my doorbell rang.

For an instant, I considered pretending I wasn’t home. Brilliant, Tinker. Your car is parked outside and your lights are on, but I’m sure he won’t notice that you’re hiding. Instead, I grabbed a long, flowing satin robe and pulled it on over my jammies before tying the belt around my waist—it’d always reminded me of something a 1940s movie star would wear. Hopefully it would give me confidence as I faced him.