shook his head in mock pity as he claimed a seat at the counter. “I’d check my sources if I were you, my friend.”
Ean chuckled. It was good to be home. He looked over his shoulder at Quincy. “How’ve you been, Quincy?”
“The same since we last spoke a month ago.” Quincy took a seat on the other side of Darius.
Ean’s smile wavered at the other man’s short tone. “I feel as though I’ve walked into a time warp. You both look the same.”
Darius’s eyes twinkled with evil intent. “You look older.”
Ean broke into laughter. Darius hadn’t changed. It was like being back on his front porch with his friends after school, sharing dreams and swapping insults.
Quincy shifted in his seat, staring down at the gray-and-white–marble countertop. “I’m sorry the town seems so prosaic to you. Maybe you should have stayed in New York.”
Ean frowned. He opened his mouth to respond but was forestalled by his mother’s appearance.
Doreen liberated two mugs from the collection behind the counter. “And how are you young men this morning?”
Darius and Quincy returned his mother’s greeting with an easy familiarity as she gave them each a mug. This morning’s meeting seemed a comfortable habit for the three of them. The sting of envy deepened the frown across Ean’s brow. For months, his childhood friends and his ex-girlfriend’s younger cousin had shared breakfast with his mother almost every morning. Meanwhile, he’d been in New York chasing an adolescent’s dream.
“Do you two want the usual this morning?” His mother’s question confirmed his suspicions.
Darius smiled up at Doreen as she filled his mug with coffee. “Yes, please.”
Doreen quirked an eyebrow. “Darius Knight, that innocent smile didn’t fool me when you were a child. And it certainly doesn’t fool me now. My son’s return doesn’t give you a free pass to cause havoc like you three did as children.”
Darius lifted the mug to his smiling lips. “Your suspicions wound me, Ms. Doreen.”
Doreen tipped the coffee carafe to pour the hot, fragrant drink into Quincy’s mug. “Quincy was always the sensible one. But he had his hands full, trying to keep the two of you out of trouble.”
Darius pretended to choke on his coffee. “Don’t let his quiet demeanor fool you. Some of those misadventures were Quincy’s idea.”
Quincy lifted his mug of black coffee. “I don’t remember it that way.”
Ean offered his mother a smile as she topped off his drink. “Thank you.”
Quincy’s surly manner stood out against the friendly banter around the counter. Darius seemed oblivious of the tension surrounding their friend. Was Quincy always this grumpy in the morning? For his students’ sakes, Ean hoped the professor didn’t schedule any early-morning classes.
Doreen returned with a white Books & Bakery paper bag she handed to Quincy. “One Trinity Falls Fudge Walnut Brownie, fresh from the oven.” She turned to the other customers at the counter. “Your orders will be right up.”
As Doreen returned to the kitchen, Darius reached for the bag.
“Touch it and die.” Quincy scowled at the other man. “If you want a brownie, order your own. Why are you always going after mine?”
Darius returned to his coffee. “You shouldn’t eat sweets. They’re not good for you.”
Ean leaned forward to see Quincy on Darius’s other side. “How’s your family, Q?”
“Fine.”
So much for that line of conversation.
Ean turned to Darius. “How are your parents?”
Darius’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Very happily driving each other insane, thank you. My dad’s planning his retirement, and my mother’s indulging every jealous bone in her body.”
Ean sobered as he remembered the tension in Darius’s childhood home. “I’m sorry, man.”
His friend shrugged. “At least I don’t live with them anymore. I can handle one Sunday dinner a month.”
“What about Jack?” Ean looked from Quincy to Darius, asking about Jackson Sansbury, the last member of the town’s founding family.
Darius shook his head. “He’s still in mourning, man. He bought those old cabins at the lake and completely cut himself off from the town.”
Ean sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Why did you come back?” Quincy’s question sounded like a personal attack.
Ean studied Quincy’s profile. What was eating at his friend? “I told you when we spoke last month. I’m through with the rat race. I wanted to come home to Trinity Falls.”
Quincy snorted. “Growing up, you couldn’t wait to leave.”
Darius swallowed more coffee. “And now he’s back. At least he’s not afraid to go after what he wants.”
Quincy glared at Darius.
The reporter ignored him. He set down his mug and turned to Ean. “So you’ve escaped the rat race. Do you intend to live a life of leisure in Trinity Falls?”
Ean frowned. Why was Quincy resentful of his return? And what did Darius mean when he said Ean wasn’t afraid to go after what he wanted? He needed answers, but the mulish expression on Quincy’s blunt features told him he wouldn’t get any—not yet.
He settled back in the swivel seat. “I have a couple of ideas. I’m going to take my time and consider them.”
“I’m sure you can do that.” Quincy drained his coffee. “You were making big bucks in New York. The cost of living in Trinity Falls must seem laughable to you.”
“Shut up and eat your brownie, Q.” Darius’s voice was flat.
The tension was getting to Darius, and Ean had had enough. He checked his wristwatch. “I’m going to see Ramona. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Darius looked up. “Good to have you back, man.”
Ean grinned. “Good to be back.”
Quincy eyed him coldly. “Why are you going to see her? You broke up six years ago.”
“Ramona and I are still friends. You know that.”
Ean nodded at Darius and pondered the back of Quincy’s head. What was Quincy’s problem? And what was he afraid to go after?
CHAPTER 5
Ean entered the dim stairwell that would take him to Ramona’s office on the second floor of the
