CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Levi
The café looksalive even before the sun is fully up. Light spills through the front windows like someone pulled back the curtains on a stage, and I sit there in my truck for a second, staring at it.
For a building that’s been half under repair since she came back to town, it feels different this morning—like her excitement has soaked into the walls and seeped out through the bricks.
I glance at the basket sitting on the seat beside me. Wrapped in cellophane and tied with the ribbon that Tessa insisted on, it looks a little ridiculous for a grown man to be carrying around, but the thought of Wren’s reaction makes me grin.
I’ve been on late shifts all week, dragging myself in and out of the station, but today is hers. She deserves to start it feeling seen.
I get out, balancing the basket carefully, and knock on the café door. The sound of her voice carries through the wood—light, cheerful, threaded with that little laugh that always does me in.
She’s on the phone, I realize, which gives me a moment to breathe her in before she even opens the door.
When she does, I nearly forget why I’m here.
She’s wearing a simple floral dress, the hem brushing her thighs, paired with brown cowboy boots that make her legs look longer than they already are. Her hair is done soft and loose, makeup light but perfect for her face, and for a second, I just stand there like an idiot, staring.
She’s got the phone tucked between her cheek and shoulder, still talking, and her eyes widen when she sees me.
I step inside, the smell hitting me instantly—warm sugar, browned butter, cinnamon, apples, something citrusy and bright under it all.
Every surface is covered. Counters lined with Tupperware, the tables crowded with cooling racks. I swear there isn’t a free inch in the entire room.
Pancake stretches from his spot near the counter, tail swishing, and I crouch to run a hand over his head.
Her voice softens as she finishes her call. “I know, Mom. I’ll send you pictures. Yeah… I miss you too. Okay. Love you. Bye.”
She presses the phone off and sets it down. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I answer, straightening, still holding the basket. “Everything good?”
She nods, brushing a hand over her hair. “Just my mom. She wanted an update on today. I think she’s more nervous than I am.”
I give her a look. “I doubt that.”
She laughs under her breath, then gestures toward the oven. “I still have something in there—muffins, I think. I lost count about two hours ago.”
Before she can slip away, I catch her waist and pull her in, pressing my mouth to hers. Her lips taste faintly sweet, like she’s been testing one of the fillings. I breathe her in, my hand sliding up her back.
“You look so damn good,” I murmur against her mouth.
She smiles, cheeks pink. “Thanks.”
Her gaze drops to the basket. She raises an eyebrow.
“And this? What’s this, Maddox? A boo basket?”
I chuckle, setting it down on the nearest free space. “That was Tessa’s idea. She said if kids can get boo baskets in October, then you deserve one for the festival.”
She tilts her head, fighting a grin. “A festival boo basket. You two really are something else.”
“Open it.”
She peels back the wrap, her fingers careful, and pulls things out one by one. An apron, flour-dusted already because I didn’t think ahead. A jar of honey from a local farm. A thermos that keeps coffee hot for more than ten minutes. A few silly things Tessa tucked in—stickers, a packet of face masks.
Wren’s fingers pause when she sees the small jewelry box. Her eyes snap up to me. “Levi…”
