“Honey, I saw the way you lit up when he was checking on you in the hospital.”
“He’s just...” I pause, remembering our text conversation. “He’s genuine. The way he handled everything at the accident scene, how he kept me calm. And last night we texted for hours about everything. Fishing, travel dreams, our shared love of photography. Did you know he wants to photograph the Northern Lights someday?”
“And he looks like he stepped out of a firefighter calendar doesn’t hurt either,” Nic teases.
“Well, there is that.” I laugh, unable to hide my grin.
After parking at Sweetheart Scones & Stories, we enter, and I’m enveloped by the heavenly scent of brewing coffee and pastries straight from the oven. The interior strikes the perfect balance between snug and lively. Through an arched entryway, the romance bookstore section flows seamlessly from the bakery, decorated in soft rose and cream tones. Bright natural light pours in through expansive windowpanes.
At the counter, I scan the menu board, my stomach growling at the sight of scones, muffins, and pastries. “I need the biggest latte they have,” I declare. “And maybe... everything else?”
“The peach and raspberry scones are to die for,” Nic suggests. “And Callie’s signature latte is pure magic.”
“This place is adorable,” I say as we step further inside.
Nic beams proudly. “Callie and Brittany have really outdone themselves here.”
We approach the counter, and my eyes widen at the array of pastries and treats displayed. “Oh wow, look at those scones! And that cinnamon roll...”
Nic chuckles. “Told you it was worth it.”
We place our orders: lattes and an assortment of pastries because I intend to have a bite of each one. We sit down in a cozy seat near a window.
As we wait for our order, Nic leans in. “You know, Ryan really cares about this town, and the firehouse fundraiser is something I’m helping with, wanna take a swing and jump back in the saddle?”
I sigh, stirring my latte. “A fundraiser sounds amazing, but I don’t think I should take on any events right now. Marcus is making everything so difficult with the lawsuit.”
“What a snake,” Nic shakes her head. “I still can’t believe he forced you out of your own company.”
“Yeah.” My throat tightens. “All those years building our reputation, and he...” I take a sip of my drink, letting the warmth calm me. “You know Patricia, my lawyer? She says we have a strong case. The documentation shows how Marcus violated our partnership agreement, making deals and promises behind my back.”
“And pushing you out of decisions about your own company. I hope Patricia nails the SOB to the wall.” Nic reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Remember that gorgeous vineyard wedding we collaborated on last spring? Before all this mess? You were in your element, bringing everything together, making magic happen. That’s the real you, not this stressed version dealing with Marcus’s greed.”
“I miss that feeling,” I admit.
“Then maybe this is perfect timing.” Nic’s eyes sparkle. “Think about it—you’re away from Atlanta’s pressure cooker, away from Marcus’s toxic energy. Here, you could reconnect with what you love about event planning. Start fresh, have fun again. We can work out the payment terms—Marcus will be none the wiser; it’ll be through me.”
I bite into a warm scone, considering her words. “You might be right. I’ve been so caught up in the legal battle, I need to get back into it for the love of the work. What he doesn’t know, right?”
“Exactly! And what better way to stick it to Marcus than by thriving? Show him he didn’t break you.” Nic grins. “Plus, planning a firefighter fundraiser? With a certain handsome captain? That’s what I call a win-win.”
I nod. “You’re right. Besides, event planning is what I do best.” My thoughts drift toward Ryan. “I could use something positive to focus on right now.”
Our full plate of delectable pastries arrive. We dig in, and I savor each bite and sip my latte.
“This place has such a warm vibe,” I muse between bites of a blueberry scone.
Nic nods enthusiastically. “And think—you could create events and bring more warmth to Peachwood Grove.”
“I’d love that,” I say.
After finishing our treats, we gather our things.
“Ready to settle in at The Azalea Inn?” Nic asks with a smile.
I nod, rejuvenated. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 4
