Page 29 of Riding the Curve

My stomach growls loudly. I look across to the stove and the fridge that I know is fully stocked. However, I can’t bring myself to cook in her kitchen. Instead, I decide to head into town.

What I need is fresh air and a change of space.

“Well, hello, stranger.”

Harper greets me as she places pots of flowers on the bistro tables set outside her little bakery. When she begins to lift the chairs from their stack, I rush over to help.

Old Oak Oven looks more vibrant and inviting since she took over the business after her parents passed. Pale violet awnings cover the windows, flowers overflowing from the boxes beneath them. It’s like a little piece of Parisian life has sprouted right here on Main Street.

Ryleigh shared with me a while back that Harper’s parents had been older when they had her. Her twin brothers were much older than us and had left to join the military when she was only ten. I remember Dad telling me about the tragic car crash that took her parents away from Harper during her second year of college.

Between us, we share an understanding of the hole that loss leaves inside your heart.

She reached out to me after Mama’s funeral and told me she’d always be a listening ear to talk about it all if I ever needed it. Though I never took her up on it, I’m grateful to know that there is someone there for the day that I finally admit that I do need help.

Sliding the last chair around the bistro table, I hold the door open.

“Thank you, I appreciate the help. Coffee is on me today.”

Opening my mouth to argue, I’m cut off by her narrowed glare and hands placed firmly on her hips. I raise mine up in surrender while she smiles in satisfaction then heads around the counter to make my coffee.

“To-go or for here?” she shouts over the espresso machine.

There are only a few small booths and a few tables inside the small bakery. And it looks like all the inside tables are full today. Right before I open my mouth to tell Harper I’ll take it to go, I spot a familiar head of cinnamon locks sprawled out over a sleeping body in the back. Harper follows my line of sight and hums softly to herself.

“Looks like it’ll be for here,” she murmurs.

Heat radiates up my neck as a smirk lifts her lips. “How long has she been like that?”

“For about an hour,” she says, plating a cinnamon roll and setting it next to my coffee by the cash register. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my wallet to pay for the pastry, but she shakes her head once more. “This is for taking care of her the other day.”

Puzzled, I raise a brow.

“She told me all about the plane and the drive home.”

“Oh.”

Her eyes wander behind me to her best friend’s slumped body, then back to mine. “The Coles don’t really have a whole lot of extra space with Ryleigh and Lyla there too, so she’s been sleeping on the couch.”

I wince.

“Yeah, so she basically hasn’t been sleeping at all. Plus, as of today, she just started working with me. I feel like she worked out all her frustrations for the past hour and completely exhausted herself.”

She sighs, sliding my coffee and roll into my hands.

“Thank you.”

Turning to join Henley, I can still feel Harper’s gaze on my back. Only a few steps in, her voice stops me in my tracks. “I know what happened all those years ago, Em. I’m not sure what your intentions are now, but if any of them have to do with Hen, please make sure this time it doesn’t end up the same way. She deserves to have someone who will treat her like the wonderful goddess she is. Something deep down in my soul tells me that could be you, but if you’re not ready to treat her right, I suggest you back away now. Her heart can’t withstand another devastating break.”

Harper walks away from the counter and busies herself taking loaves of bread out of the oven. Leaving me standing in the middle of the bakery, trying to find the courage to take a step.

I could sit outside, never bother to wake her up. Continue to keep my space from her while I’m here. Or I could slide into the seat across from her and try to rekindle the one thing I lost all those years ago.

My pulse thrums inside my chest as I take another step forward.

CHAPTER 12

Emerson