Trinity Falls (Finding Home 1)

“I’m here as a representative of the Trinity Falls Town Center Business Owners Association.” Was the wobble in her voice noticeable? “What additional information can you provide regarding plans to sell the center to a high-end broker to revitalize the property?”

Ramona pulled her microphone closer to her mouth. “Like what?”

Ramona’s intimidation tactics were familiar—flat stare, bored tone—and they usually worked. Megan glanced over her shoulder. The members of her group, including Quincy and Darius, nodded encouragement.

Megan squared her shoulders and faced her cousin. “What types of businesses were you planning to attract? Where would you locate these new businesses?”

“We don’t have answers to those questions yet.” Ramona’s dismissive tone slapped her down.

Megan wanted to end this exchange and return to her seat, but her group was depending on her. “You’re trying to draw new businesses, but you don’t know what type or where you’d put them? Then why do you want them?”

Ramona lowered her brows. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Ramo . . . Mayor McCloud, new businesses will impact Trinity Falls’s existing retailers. The result will be increased competition for discretionary, as well as essential, spending. Businesses have to prepare for these changes—”

CeCe interrupted her. “I can understand your concern, Megan.”

“I can’t,” Ramona muttered.

CeCe continued. “As soon as the council has the information that you’re requesting, we’ll share it with you and the rest of the town’s business owners.”

“Thank you, Councilwoman Roben.” Megan nodded toward the council before leaving the podium. Her legs were like Jell-O. She was out of breath.

Again she felt Ramona’s eyes burning into her. Why would the council announce its intent to attract new businesses to Trinity Falls if it didn’t know the types of businesses it wanted to attract, or even where they would be located? What was really going on?

The sound of leaves crunching behind her pulled Megan from her solitary thoughts early Wednesday morning. The fellow jogger was gaining ground on her fast. Perhaps too fast. From the weight of the footfalls, the runner was probably male. Without breaking stride, Megan loped to the edge of Freedom Park’s nearly deserted dirt path, signaling the newcomer that he was free to pass.

“It’s not safe to run alone in the dark.” Ean’s rich baritone almost sent her into cardiac arrest.

It never occurred to her she would come into contact with him during her morning exercise. But here he was, with his olive green eyes focused on her.

Megan blinked. Her heart thumped once. Twice. “It’s after six o’clock in the morning.”

“It’s still dark.”

Megan puzzled over his statement as they jogged through the pools of light spilling from the lamps stationed every couple of feet. “This is Trinity Falls, not New York City.”

“Unfortunately, women are accosted in small towns, too.”

“That’s one of the reasons these lamps were installed.” Megan watched a drop of sweat trail down Ean’s broad forehead, drip off his aquiline nose and land on the gunmetal gray T-shirt stretched across his broad chest.

She shifted her attention away and drew in the chill October air to cool her suddenly overheated body. Ean seemed to have adjusted his pace to match hers. Was his concern for her safety the reason he didn’t just jog past her? Megan was trapped.

She tried to distract herself by focusing on the fall colors on the trees and bushes bordering the hard dirt path. Some of the vibrant leaves were strewn along the ground and grass.

She loved this time of day; the still silence of the early morning, when it felt as though she was the only person on the planet. The scent of fall was heavy in the air. She glanced at Ean in her peripheral vision. Did he sense the magic of the early morning, too? A ghost of a smile touched his full, sexy lips.

“What are you thinking about?” Her question startled her. Why had she asked him that?

“The past. The path hasn’t changed much, except for these lamps.” He gestured toward a tree root. “I twisted my ankle on that once, before I learned to hop over it.”

“The town hasn’t changed much.” Megan returned her attention to the trail. “People come and eventually go. They rarely return.”

“Is that a not-so-subtle reference to my homecoming?”

“Maybe.” Megan’s fingers trembled to smooth his thick, arched brow and wipe the sweat from his forehead. She fisted her hands.

“The bookstore’s changed. A lot.”