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In response, Fallon just leans over me and plucks a hair from the crown of my head. I yelp, slapping a hand over my scalp. My brother, with a self-satisfied smirk, dangles a pure white hair in front of my face. “You were saying?”
“Rude!” I snatch the hair and hold it between my fingers, staring.
“Oh, come on,” Dorothy says, patting her silvery-white head. “It’s not so bad. You young people make a big deal out of the silliest things. I heard gray hair was all the rage these days. Iliana was wearing her grays proudly all week!”
I bunch my lips to the side as the medic straightens in front of me. “She’s all good,” the medic says to a blond-haired man near the stairs.
“Fallon?” The man arches his brows. “You good to continue filming? The staff will take care of your…” He tilts his head, studying my face. “Sister?”
I nod. “Yeah. Sister.”
Fallon gives me a long look. “This isn’t over. You and I need to talk.”
I force a smile. I’m not sure what else there is to say. Slim found out where I lived and asked me to deliver a message to Fallon. I don’t have any other information, but I admit seeing Slim Miller freaked me out. Last night was the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in weeks.
My breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh when Fallon heads back down the stairs. Candice puts an arm around me and Simone grabs my elbow on the other side, the two of them leading me to a fully functional bench.
Fiona cringes at me. “It’s not usually like this, Nora. Heart’s Cove is just a sleepy town, I promise.”
Simone snorts. “Do you promise that, Fiona? Because last I checked, Heart’s Cove is the furthest thing from sleepy.”
Fiona chews her lip. “Okay, so yes, dramatic things happen here. But not usually injury-inducing things.”
“What about Wes’s ankle?” Simone asks. “Or Jen’s brush with those killer birds? Or Candice’s house fire?”
“Is this supposed to be helping?” Fiona plants her hands on her hips and stares at the red-haired woman opposite her. “We should be making her feel good about being here. Not fearing for her life!”
My lips twitch. “It’s fine. I like it here.”
Candice squeezes my shoulders and sits me down next to her, and I realize it’s the truth. I do like it here. I like the way Candice rang the doorbell this morning and treated me like an old friend. I like that when she invited me to come watch my brother bake with Jen, it didn’t seem forced. It felt like she truly wanted me to come along.
For the first time in a long, long time, I almost feel…at home. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this.
It’s too bad Fallon left Heart’s Cove, and from what he told me, he has no plans to move back. Otherwise, we could both make a life here.
CHAPTER 14
Jen
“Your caramel was brought to the perfect color,” Bernard says, inspecting one of the choux he plucked from the croquembouche. “The spun caramel is delicate. Perfect.” His eyes flick to mine, and he holds my gaze so long I start to blush, forcing myself not to squirm.
Heather hums in agreement. “The addition of lemon curd was genius. It cuts the sweetness of the crème pat absolutely perfectly.” She smacks her lips. “I’d take the whole thing home.”
I can hardly contain my excitement. Today’s challenge felt good. Everything went right, and I actually had fun. Even in front of a live audience, with a big, angry timer counting down the time and cameras stuck in my face.
The mezzanine crowd cheers, and I hear Candice whooping loudest of all. Cheeks burning, I can’t quite keep the smile off my face. It took a little while to get everyone settled after the bench collapsed, but now the air in the barn is back to being electric.
Fallon shifts his weight, glancing down at me with sparkling eyes. “That was all Jen.”
“We figured.” Bernard grins. He gives me a wink, and my blush deepens.
“Yeah, all right, all right, no need to rub it in.” Fallon puts his arm around my shoulders and tucks me into his side. His movements feel rough, as if he’s…making a point.
There’s no time to decipher it, because my heart is warm, overflowing. When we bring our croquembouche back to our station, I let out a deep breath and glance up at the man beside me. He was amazing today. Focused, on task, and totally willing to go with all my ideas.
I’ve never felt that kind of support. When I worked in tech, I was always second-guessed. I saw my ideas being passed over, or worse, repeated by my male colleagues and celebrated. When I quit the job, my boss called me by the wrong name, even though we’d worked together for years. Even though I was the best team member by far.
Being good at things is natural to me. It comes with the perfectionism. But to have someone stand by my side and support me? To have Fallon’s quiet strength, his encouragement?
