But Hideaway Harbor has made time for me.
Before me is everything I thought I wanted: a bakery alive with joy, a town that loves me, proof I belong.
And yet it isn’t enough.
Because a dream isn’t just ovens and sugar and steady business. It isn’t even a Christmas tree farmer.
Not anymore.
Where I once imagined flannel shirts and a man who could build me a bookshelf without a level, I see cashmere and loafers. A man not deft with a saw but with legal jargon sharp enough to carve out security and space for me—and for us.
I see Jack.
All of this—the love, the laughter, the community—means nothing without him beside me.
“Um, just so you know.” Amanda slides up to the counter, Sharpie poised to sign a customer’s Making Whoopie bag like she’s an A-lister at Comic-Con—which, honestly, she kind of is. “Jack’s still here.”
I whip my head toward her so fast my neck twinges. “I’m sorry—what?” Slightly whiplashed, I steady my hands on the display case. “But you said he left.”
“He did.” She scribbles her name with a flourish. “But the LA flight was canceled because of weather. He’s been stuck at the airport ever since, waiting for them to reschedule.” She grabs the customer’s phone, holds it high, and takes a practiced selfie. “Which they did. For noon.” Her head bows just enough for her eyes to angle up, sly and unblinking. “Today.”
My eyes shoot to the clock. My pulse barrels in triple time.
I swivel to Eileen still handing out coffee by the register. “Eileen!”
She startles, sending a few drops of coffee splattering on my clean floor. “Yes?”
“I need your help.” I dig into the pocket of my apron.
Her brows lift. “Of course.”
Yanking the key to the shop out of my apron pocket, I toss it to her. “Close the store.”
Eileen fumbles the catch, staring at the key like I just handed her a live grenade. “Now? You want to closenow?” She sweeps her eyes over the line snaking to the door and down the street, customers chattering and laughing, fully expecting their sweet tooth to be soothed.
“Yes!” I whip off my apron, toss it over a bowl of icing, and jog toward the back door. “Thank you!”
I don’t look back. I can’t. My body is already moving, set on one singular mission: get to Jack before his plane leaves. Tell him I’m sorry. That I’m an idiot. That while my head convinced me we were temporary, my heart always knew he was the forever I didn’t dare plan for.
Bursting into the back lot reserved for shop owners, I nearly collide with someone standing there.
“Mom?” I skid, breath fogging in the cold.
She looks up, startled. “Audrey! Sorry I’m late. The roads around town are fine, but right outside—icy.” She brushes frost from her camel coat. “Took me longer than I thought to get here.”
For a beat, all I can do is gape. “Butwhyare you here?”
As if realizing not is all right with me, she drops her hands. “Jack invited me.” Her words slow as her eyes travel the length of me, trying to figure out what’s wrong.
Of course he did.
Inside, the bell rings and voices swell, muffled but insistent. My mother’s gaze cuts to the back door still ajar then back to me. “Where are you off to?”
My words tumble out just as sharp as the air is cold. “To leave work in the middle of the day, let go of a week’s worthof money, all so I can go beg the man I love to stay with me in a small town where I’ll probably always worry about my bakery’s bottom line but I’ll be happy to do so.”
She blinks, then nods once, as if that’s exactly the answer she expected. “I see.” Digging into her bag, she pulls out her key fob and presses it into my palm. “Take my SUV. It’s safer on the roads than your delivery van.”
For a heartbeat, everything inside me swells with words—gratitude, fear, love, the kind of confessions you only think of when you know you’ll regret it if you don’t say them. But instead I just wrap my arms around her tightly.
