Olive had gone back to her coloring, humming to herself as if she hadn’t just called Seth CunninghamUncle Sethin front of half the town. And Seth, stoic, sharp, impossible Seth, hadn’tcorrected her. He’d just… smiled. A tiny one, but enough to knock the breath out of me.
I busied myself wiping down the already-clean counter, scrubbing at a non-existent stain until the rag squeaked. Anything to keep from thinking about that moment, or how the shop had gone silent, or even how Evie had raised her brows like she’d been watching a soap opera unfold in real time.
The bell above the door jingled again.
“Madison!”
I turned and felt relief loosen my shoulders. Blair stepped in, brushing her blonde hair back as the morning breeze followed her. She carried the kind of calm I’d always envied, grounded, steady, like nothing could shake her center.
“Blair!” I rushed around the counter and hugged her tight.
She pulled back, eyes warm. “How are you holding up?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Barely. But we’re managing. Olive’s treating the guesthouse like it’s a vacation home. She’s already claimed her ‘cozy room’.”
Blair smiled knowingly. “That sounds like her.” Then she tilted her head, studying me. “And how are you doing with… Seth?”
The name made my stomach twist. I grabbed a fresh rag and started wiping down the pastry case. “Tolerating him.”
Her brows arched. “That bad?”
I huffed. “He’s infuriating. Bossy. Smug. Always acting like he knows better.”
“And yet,” Blair said gently, “you’re here working your shift, and Olive’s happy, and you had somewhere safe to sleep last night.”
I stopped scrubbing, biting my lip. “I know. It’s just complicated. Olive adores him already. She calls him Uncle Seth, for God’s sake.”
Blair’s smile softened into something almost teasing. “Well, he kindaisher uncle. Technically.”
“Not the point.” I set the rag down and leaned on the counter, lowering my voice. “What if she gets too attached? What if he lets her down? She doesn’t deserve that. She’s been through enough.”
Blair reached across the counter, resting her hand over mine. “Maddie. Seth may be rough around the edges, but he’s not careless. He wouldn’t let her down. And maybe…” She squeezed my hand. “Maybe you should let yourself see that side of him, too.”
I swallowed hard, blinking against the sudden sting in my eyes. I hated how much her words made sense.
Olive’s laugh rang out from the back table, bright and untroubled. She was holding up her crayon drawing for Evie to admire, chocolate still smudged at the corner of her mouth. Safe. Happy.
And maybe, just maybe, I had to admit that had something to do with Seth Cunningham.
Chapter 17
Madison
The rush finally died down by mid-afternoon, the clatter of mugs replaced by the softer hum of the ceiling fan and the scrape of chairs against the floor. The Beanery always carried that lived-in comfort. Cinnamon sugar woven into the wood grain, mismatched mugs stacked in open shelving, and chalkboard doodles from Evie that made even theOut of Ordersign look cheerful.
Olive sat cross-legged at her little table in the corner, head bent over her coloring page. She had drawn a crooked house with a giant sun overhead, Bunny holding hands with a stick-figure that suspiciously resembled Seth. My stomach knotted the second I recognized the messy scribble labeledUnkl Seth.
Blair’s words echoed like they were stitched into the walls:Maybe you should let yourself see that side of him, too.
I tried to shove them aside, but they stuck, persistent as burrs.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Blair leaned against the counter, sipping the iced chai Evie had slid her way.
I shook my head, tugging the rag over a clean patch of countertop for the tenth time. “You don’t want to know.”
She smirked. “That bad?”
“That's confusing.” I lowered my voice, leaning closer so Olive wouldn’t overhear. “Blair, she called himUncle Seth. In front of everyone. And he didn’t– he didn’t stop her. He just let it happen. I don't want her to be disappointed when she doesn't see him again once the house is fixed.”
