Chapter 3: Smoke & Shadows

(Eden’s POV)

The second I stepped off the plane, the air felt heavier.

Not like the suffocating heat of the city—this was something else. Saltwater. Pine. A weight of memory that clung to the back of my throat like an old song I didn’t know the words to anymore.

I adjusted the strap of my carry-on and made my way through the tiny airport terminal, past outdated travel posters and a coffee kiosk that somehow still had the same burnt hazelnut smell I remembered from high school.

Outside, Harper’s fiancé, Joe, leaned against his pickup truck, wearing aviators and a grin that was almost too cheerful for someone about to marry into our family.

“Miss Quinn,” he called, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat. “Welcome home.”

I smirked. “I’m not calling you ‘brother-in-law’ until the ink dries.”

“Fair enough.” He took my bag and tossed it into the truck bed like it weighed nothing. “You ready for tonight?”

“Define ready.”

He laughed and opened the passenger door for me. “They’re already setting up. Harper’s in full panic mode, obviously. She’s convinced the potato salad is too creamy.”

“She’s not wrong. Too much mayo is a sin.”

He gave me a look. “Please don’t say that at the table.”

⸻

By the time we pulled up to the house, the front lawn had transformed into a Pinterest board. String lights crisscrossed the porch. Mismatched folding chairs formed a semi-circle around a fire pit. The grill was already smoking.

And there they were.

Luca and Levi Blackwell.

My stomach did something that felt too much like panic.

Luca was at the grill with my dad, flipping ribs with a pair of tongs and a look of intense focus, as if rib perfection were a sacred calling. He was taller than I remembered. Broader. His dark shirt stretched across shoulders that looked like they’d been carved by intention. His hair was still short, close to his scalp, but thicker on top—like he gave up trying to control it and let it do what it wanted.

Levi stood nearby, laughing at something Joe said. A beer in one hand, the other gesturing wildly. His curls were longer, brushing the tops of his ears. A tattoo peeked from under the sleeve of his T-shirt—black lines, sharp and angular. He looked like trouble. He always had.

Neither of them had noticed me yet.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted them to.

Joe headed inside to find Harper while I lingered on the edge of the porch, trying to decide whether I should wait or just walk in like I wasn’t suddenly thirteen again with a wildly inappropriate crush on two men who barely knew I existed.

But then Levi turned.

His eyes met mine across the yard. Just for a second.

He raised his chin in a lazy hello and offered the smallest smirk—like I was a familiar face he couldn’t quite place but didn’t mind seeing.

Luca followed his gaze, and his nod was almost imperceptible. Cool. Measured.

That was it.

No “Hey, Eden, long time no see.”

No bear hugs.

No wow-you’ve-changed glances.

Just a nod. A smirk. And back to whatever they were doing.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

What did you expect, confetti?

I stepped onto the porch and made a beeline for the drinks table. The sangria was already sweating in its oversized glass pitcher. I poured myself a plastic cup’s worth, added a slice of orange, and took a sip.

Too sweet. But effective.

Harper appeared a moment later, already glowing from wine and excitement. “You made it!”

“Barely.”

“You look cute,” she said, then added with a raised brow, “Try not to act like you’re at a funeral, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“You saw them?” she asked, casually nudging her head toward the twins.

“I saw them.”

“And?”

“And I’m going to need a refill.”