Crimson River (The Edens, #5)

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Crimson River (The Edens, #5)

Devney Perry




CHAPTER ONE





LYLA





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“I’m staging an intervention.”

Not exactly the greeting I’d expected from my sister when she and her husband had walked into Eden Coffee a minute ago. “Huh?”

“I’m kicking you out.”

I blinked.

“Of here.” Eloise pointed a finger at the counter that separated us. “Right now. You have to leave.”

Leave? I was working. There would be no kicking me out. The last time I checked, this was my coffee shop. I stared at her for a long moment, then looked to Jasper standing at her side. “Is she drunk?”

“I’m staying out of this. Good luck, Lyla.” He kissed Eloise’s hair, then walked to a table against the wall, taking a seat.

“You’ve worked one hundred days in a row,” Eloise said.

A hundred? No way. That couldn’t be right. I opened my mouth to argue but she cut me off.

“Yes, I counted. You haven’t taken a day off since that Sunday in April when you went to Missoula to get your hair cut.”

I scoffed. “I’ve taken other days off since then.”

“Oh, really?” Eloise arched an eyebrow. “When?”

Uh . . . Well, it was September. And the last time I’d gone to Missoula had been April—my hair was in dire straits and in desperate need of another trip to the salon. But I’d taken time off this summer, hadn’t I? Maybe not a full day, but there were days when I’d ducked out early. That was practically the same as a vacation, right?

Okay, so technically I’d come to the coffee shop for the past hundred days. Who cared if I worked a lot?

I huffed. “What are you, the work police? Who are you to talk, anyway? You’re always at the hotel.” If she wasn’t at home with Jasper, then she was running The Eloise Inn across Main Street. “Go away. I’m busy.”

“Nope.” She planted her hands on her hips, and if she had been able to physically dig her heels in, I’d have had two dents in my hardwood floor. There was a stubborn set to Eloise’s pretty chin that meant she was not letting this go.

My sister was amazing and exasperating all at the same time.

“One afternoon,” she said. “That’s all I’m asking for. You leave here for one afternoon and do something non-work related.”

“Why?” Couldn’t I just be left alone to work in peace?

The sad smile she gave me made me feel both loved and pathetic. “Because I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to burn yourself out.”

I sighed. “I won’t.”

“But you might.” She clasped her hands together. “Please? Just take the rest of the day off so I can stop worrying.”

“I can’t just leave, Eloise.” This business was my everything. My only thing.

“Why not?” She waved to Crystal, my barista, as she came out of the kitchen carrying a fresh tray of scones. “Crystal is here. Jasper and I will hang out and help close.”

Jasper might be able to handle it, but Eloise? Never. She was utterly hopeless when it came to cooking, and I wouldn’t trust her to steam milk if my life depended on it.

But once again, the second I opened my mouth to object, she talked over me.

“Go home. Relax.”

“I can’t go home,” I said. “If I do, I’ll think of everything that needs to get done, and I’ll come right back.”

If anyone could relate, it should be Eloise. She knew exactly the commitment it took to run a business in downtown Quincy, Montana. Before she’d married Jasper, she’d probably put in her own consecutive hundred days at the hotel.

But now that Eloise had found love, her priorities had shifted, and she was shoving this balanced lifestyle down my throat.

This was arguably worse than my twin sister, Talia, who was a doctor at the hospital and kept trying to set me up on a blind date with an X-ray tech. Or my sister-in-law, Memphis, who thought the local UPS driver was cute—even in a brown uniform—and dropped not-so-subtle hints that I should ask him out the next time he brought a delivery to the shop.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to date. I had dated. For years, I’d gone on blind dates. I’d let people set me up with their other single friends. I’d even tried a dating app—two matches and two horrible first dates and I’d never ventured down that road again.

I was just . . . over it. Completely, emphatically over it.

Was my devotion to Eden Coffee such a bad thing? Couldn’t everyone just leave me and my single, workaholic life alone?

My only ally was Mateo. Just yesterday, my youngest brother had come in griping. Apparently, I wasn’t the only Eden being constantly pimped out for dates.

“You could go to a movie,” Eloise suggested.

Meh. Did I mind going to the theater alone? No. I’d just rather stay at work. “I don’t feel like popcorn. Last time I was there I ate too much and it gave me a stomachache.”

“Then don’t get popcorn.”

“Then what’s the fun in going to a movie?”

“You’re exhausting.” She rolled her eyes. “Go for a hike then. You love hiking, and I know you hardly went this summer. It’s a beautiful day. Get some fresh air. Disconnect. Do anything. Just leave this building until tomorrow morning.”

“Why?” I whined. “I like it here. Let me stay. I’ll make you something yummy. Chocolate croissants?”

“Tempting. But no.” She shook her head. “This job is becoming your personality.”

What? No, it wasn’t. I scrunched up my nose. “Harsh.”

“You came into the hotel on Monday and asked if you could get me anything else. In my building.”

Was making sure my sister had a coffee or cookie while she worked a damn crime?

“You serve and wait on people every day,” she said. “Just . . . for one afternoon, do something for you.”

This job was for me. I liked watching people come into my coffee shop and unwind. I liked that I’d created an atmosphere where friends could meet to chat. Where people could treat themselves to a pastry or dessert or fancy latte.

But there was no arguing with Eloise. Not today. She had that determined look on her face, one she’d inherited from Dad.

I groaned. “You’re not going to leave me alone until I agree, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Fine. I’ll go for a hike or whatever.”

“Yay. Thank you.” She failed to hide a victorious smile. “Maybe you’ll meet your dream guy while you’re out hiking.”

Uh-huh, sure. Because Montana hiking trails were teeming with eligible, handsome men who’d worship the ground I walked on.

I untied my apron. “I’m starting to think my dream guy doesn’t exist.” And maybe that was okay. Maybe this coffee shop, my family, was all I needed. “You’ll call me if something goes wrong.”

“Yes,” she promised.

I locked my blue eyes with hers. “There’s plenty of food in the kitchen, but if for any reason cooking is required—”

She held up a hand. “I promise not to go anywhere near an oven. That’s why I brought Jasper. Or I’ll ask Crystal.”

Damn it, this was stupid. I didn’t want to go for a hike. I wanted to stay in my coffee shop, surrounded by the scents of vanilla, coffee beans and cinnamon. And the walls with their scuffed molding. And the floor that would need to be mopped tonight. And the sticky tables that would need to be wiped down.

So maybe I was a teeny-tiny bit sick of this place.

Besides, this seemed to be something Eloise needed. And after the shooting at the hotel this summer, well . . . if this would take one worry off her heart, then I could give her an afternoon.

“All right,” I said. “You win. I’ll go. Happy now?”

“Yep.” That smug grin of hers widened.

While she gloated to Crystal, I trudged into the kitchen to collect my stuff.

With my coat slung over an arm and my purse on a shoulder, I headed for the rear exit, ignoring Eloise as she practically shoved me outside. The minute I was alone in the alley, I stuck out my tongue toward the steel door and Eloise, who was probably watching from the peephole.

“An intervention,” I muttered as I climbed in my car. Weren’t interventions supposed to include more than one person? Jasper didn’t count, considering he’d bolted after five seconds.

“Now what?” My finger hesitated over the ignition button. I stared at the back of Eden Coffee. Couldn’t I just go back inside where it was familiar? No. I sighed and started my navy-blue Honda. I’d be back tomorrow at four in the morning anyway.

I reversed out of my space and headed down the alley, taking my regular route to my house on the outskirts of Quincy.

The house was quiet. It was always quiet. The couch and TV were tempting, but what I’d told Eloise was true. If I stayed home, I’d think about work and go back. So I swapped out the tennis shoes I’d pulled on this morning for my hiking boots. Then with a warmer coat and a beanie to cover my dark hair, I returned to my car and aimed my tires at the mountains.