AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I sighed. “We’re not performing for anyone in here; you don’t have to do this.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you talking to me, or yourself? You know I genuinely care.”
“I do. I just…” Another sigh. I’d have to get that under control too. “I’m running on determination and if I stop, I’ll stall.”
“You have to process.”
I leaned against the door with my arms crossed, more to hold myself in than to keep him out. “If I do, I’ll crumble. I won’t be able to stop fixating on how fucked up this all is.”
“All right.” Hunter sounded as unhappy with the conversation as I felt. He grabbed a travel mug from the counter next to him. “Take the coffee anyway? I don’t drink mine the same way you do, and it would be a shame to dump this.” He crossed the room to hand me the stainless steel.
Warmth sparked in my stomach, and a resigned smile slipped out. I took the mug from him. “All right. Thank you. By the way, I’ll be home pretty late tonight.”
“Is it something I said?” His laugh was weak.
“No. I promise. Even if I weren’t here, doing”—I waved my free hand in lieu of words—“I’d have to work late. After Lyn’s, I have a bunch of shelter work to do, and it’s easier from there.”
“That’s fair. Be safe.”
I nodded. It felt odd walking out the door. It wasn’t like I was going to give him a goodbye kiss or anything, though.
When I got to work, I found Lyn in the kitchen, as was typical in the mornings. She’d already been up for hours, baking for the day. She looked surprised to see me. “I kind of hoped you’d call in, and take me up on that offer for time off.”
“Do you even know me?” It was a struggle to keep my teasing from sounding forced.
Lyn arranged croissants in a neat row in a wire display basket. “You just got married.”
Right. “And we’re planning something big”—it wasn’t really a lie, the big thing was just more likedivorcethanhoneymoon—“but he has obligations, I have things I can’t let slide. Trust me, things are still intense at home.” Suffocatingly.
Lyn handed me the basket. “Hunter always struck me as a good guy.”
“He really is wonderful.” The truth was so much easier than bullshit. “I’m gonna prep to open.” I walked back into the main shop, placed the croissants on display behind glass, and got to work.
The rest of the day was long, but uneventful, and I was worn out when I gothomethat night. The small lamp left on in the living room, even though Hunter had gone to bed, made me smile. I shut everything off, and as I climbed into bed, I let exhaustion take over my mind.
The next morning, Hunter was up and waiting, with coffee, when I got to the kitchen. I wanted to tell him he didn’t have to do this for me, but when I’d dated Ramsey—my heart ached at the name—Hunter had always been up this early.
“Still a morning person?” I asked lightly. “And thank you.” I took the coffee he handed me and sipped cautiously. Perfect temperature.
“I am until someone makes me stop. And, sorry to get all business on you first thing in the morning…”
My sliver of disappointment wanted a friendly, no-pressure chat, butbusinesswas probably better. “It’s fine.”
“Will you be home for dinner tonight?”
“Is there something on the calendar? Are we expecting guests?” I hadn’t been told and forgotten. Had I? Dinner with his mother was tomorrow night, but I’d set aside time to dread that after work.
“The question is exactly what it is.” Hunter almost looked amused. “If you’re going to be here, I’ll plan on enjoying your company.”
Oh. There was that spark of warmth again, bigger this time. “That sounds nice. I’ll be here.”
My mood was lighter than in a few days—charcoal instead of pitch black, but I’d take it—as I headed to work. Once there, things ran the way they should. The way they always had. It was soothing to fall into the familiar routine, including my weekly, mid-morning meeting with Lyn to talk schedules and ordering, and just check in.
Elle, one of the bakers Lyn had finally hired as backup, on Owen’s insistence, poked her head into Lyn’s office. “Ramsey is here for you.”
His visiting wasn’t unusual—though the knot that formed in my stomach at his name was tighter than I was used to. He was a fan of the chocolate croissants, and stopped by a lot to chat with Lyn.
She looked at me as she stood. “Do you want to hide back here? I don’t know how things are with—”
