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Outside, the big Ox statue threw its shadow across the lot. Chuck got in the damn truck, pulled out past the manzanita that screened the road, and made the turn onto the highway without thinking about it.

He got as far as the junction before the sign told him what he’d done. He’d turned north.

Chapter 9

NIALL KNEW something was wrong the moment Chuck walked into the bookstore on Monday morning. Chuck carried his shoulders high and tight, and he wouldn’t quite meet Niall’s eye. Yesterday he’d sauntered in, but today he arrived later than usual, well after Niall had opened the store, and though he smiled and kissed Niall hello, his distracted detachment set off warning bells.

“Everything okay?” Niall asked as Chuck set down his toolbox and surveyed the half-finished treehouse.

“Yeah, didn’t sleep great.” Chuck ran a hand through his hair, a gesture Niall was beginning to recognize as a sign of stress. “Aunt Lydia’s got a new neighbor with a Pomeranian that barks at every bird.”

It was a plausible excuse, but Niall didn’t quite believe it. Something had changed since yesterday, since that phone call in his office that Chuck had been so vague about. But he didn’t press, didn’t want to act needy or suspicious when they were still finding their footing in this new whatever the hell this was.

“Coffee might help,” he offered instead, gesturing to the cup he’d already prepared. “Black, two sugars, right?”

Chuck’s smile softened into something more genuine. “You remembered.”

“I pay attention.” Niall tried for lightness but couldn’t mask his vulnerability.

Chuck stepped closer and cupped Niall’s cheek with his hand. “I noticed,” he whispered, and then he was kissing Niall, the gentle press of his lips almost like an apology.

Before Niall could analyze that thought, the bell over the door jingled and they stepped apart as a group of tourists entered, looking for local history books. Niall turned to help them, and Chuck moved to the treehouse to lose himself in the familiar rhythm of measuring and cutting.

Around eleven thirty, Chuck set down his tools and approached the counter, his expression as neutral as he could manage. “I need to run an errand.” He still wasn’t meeting Niall’s eyes. “Should be back in an hour or so.”

“Anything I can help with?” The question came out thinner than he wanted.

“No, it’s just… a meeting. About a potential job.” Chuck finally looked at him directly. “Nothing major. Exploring options.”

Niall’s hand flattened on the counter. A job. Options. The implications were clear—Chuck was already thinking about what came next, about leaving Candle Bay.

About leaving them.

“Right.” Niall kept his voice steady. “Of course. You should… explore your options.”

Chuck hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but then just nodded. “I’ll be back soon. We can talk then.”

As he walked out the door, Niall went back to the register and didn’t let himself watch the door. Of course Chuck was looking at other opportunities. He was talented, ambitious, used to bigger projects than fixing leaky roofs and building treehouses in small-town bookstores. Niall had known from the beginning that Chuck’s return to Candle Bay was temporary—a pit stop while he figured out his next move.

The fact that they’d slept together, that Chuck had spent time with Winnie, that they’d started to build something meaningful—none of that changed the fundamental truth. Chuck Mitchum wasn’t the staying kind. Never had been.

Niall had just been foolish enough to hope that this time things would be different.

The lunch rush provided a welcome distraction and kept Niall too busy to dwell on his fears, but as one o’clock approached, then one thirty, with no sign of Chuck, the worry expanded into something awful. He found himself repeatedly checking his phone, hoping for a text to explain the delay, but nothing doing.

At two, Amber arrived for her after-school shift and raised an eyebrow at the unfinished treehouse. “Where’s Hot Construction Guy? Thought he’d be done with that by now.”

“A thing. He had a meeting.” Niall couldn’t look at her. “About a job.”

Amber’s eyes widened with understanding. “Ah. Bummer. I was starting to think he might stick around this time.”

“Why would you think that?” Niall asked, curious about what Amber, with her teenager’s perspective, had clocked.

She shrugged as she dropped her backpack behind the counter. “How he looks at you, if you want to know. Like you’re something special. Plus he’s good with Winnie. Most guys who are passing through don’t bother with kids.”

Niall squared a stack of postcards that didn’t need squaring. Out of the mouths of adolescents. Had he misread the entire awkward situation? Was Chuck’s distraction today about something else?

Before he could pursue that line of thought, the bell jingled again, and Niall straightened, hoping to see Chuck. Instead he found himself face-to-face with his former mother-in-law.