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“That,” he said, pointing a finger at my mouth. “That little huff. You always do that when you roll your eyes. And I’d know since you do it around me often enough.”
I placed my order without sparing him another glance, then brushed past him—mercifully resisting the urge to assault an officer—to wait for my coffee at the other end of the counter. As I did, I surveyed the layout of the cafe, my mind already ticking through a list of improvements. The Caffeinated Squirrel, with its cozy charm and mismatched furniture, was a town favorite, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t use a little tweaking.
For starters, the old men’s chess corner could be moved closer to the window. Natural light would not only make their game more enjoyable but also open up the space, making the cafe feel less crowded.
Then there was the issue of the kids’ area. A small, dedicated space with a few toys and books could keep the little ones entertained, giving their parents a much-needed break and keeping the noise level down for the rest of us.
And as for the coffee line bottleneck, a clear, designated path for ordering and pickup would streamline the process, making it quicker for everyone—including grumpy officers I wanted to avoid like the plague.
My ideas for the cafe kept me occupied while I waited, and then, as I accepted my coffee from the barista, I glanced back at Adam. He was gathering his order, balancing two trays of coffee in his hands and a bag of bagels between his teeth.
He looked ridiculous, and not at all adorable.
But someone should really tell that to Kelly and Kira. The two baristas blushed six shades of pink thanks to the wink Adam shot them on his way to the door, and I kinda wanted to shake them for reacting like that. Didn’t they know he already had a big head?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Riley lift a hand to get my attention. “Got a sec, Pais?”
“For you? Always. What’s up? Wanna go on tour?”
Aubree giggled, and I shot her a wink. I knew the answer was a big fat no.
Unfortunately for me.
My career—first, managing the world-famous Laney Cole-Wilson’s music career, then the equally famous Riley Conrad’s—had always been a whirlwind of energy and excitement. It was something I was proud to be a part of. Managing their tours, dealing with venues, and ensuring everything ran smoothly had been my life’s blood. But as they shifted gears, focusing more on family and less on performing, I found myself adrift.
It was an odd feeling.
I missed the chaos. I missed how necessary it was to get up before dawn to get a jump-start on my workday. I missed the late-night strategy sessions, the wild crowds, and, yes, even the stress. Being a music manager for two of country music’s biggest stars had made me feel needed, vital. Now, I felt like I was trying to fill that void by fixing up our little town, one efficiency project at a time.
And if I were being honest, I was pretty sure my efforts weren’t going over very well around here.
Riley leaned back in his chair. “Nah, actually, I was hopin’ for a list of vacation destinations.”
I perked up. “Oh, well, that’s easy enough. What’s the occasion, and who’s goin’? How many nights? Here in America, or you wanna go international?”
“Whoa, hold your horses,” Riley said with a laugh, running a hand through his tousled hair. His signature black Stetson sat on the chair beside him, a clear sign he was in relaxation mode, but his cowboy superstar persona was still within reach. And sincehe never went anywhere without it, the black case that held his guitar was propped up against the wall beside him.
I pursed my lips and waited for him to go on, shutting down my instincts to get the ball rolling on whatever he wanted my help with.
“Now that Aubs has her pilot’s license,” he said, winking at his wife with a boatload of pride in his icy blue eyes, “we wanna take a little trip. But the catch is, it’s gotta be close enough that we can get back here lickety-split if Bailey goes into labor. We weren’t here when the first new Wilson babe was born, and Momma Wilson’s holdin’ a bit of a grudge.”
The mention of Georgia Wilson’s grudge made me smile despite the seriousness of it. The Wilson and Cole families were intertwined like vines, sharing in each other’s milestones and missteps as if they were their own. When Riley and Aubree had missed the birth of Everett and Laney’s boy, the newest apple of Momma Wilson’s eye, I had a feeling it was a misstep that would probably linger. I could see Momma Wilson bringing it up at Sunday suppers with a mix of irritation and affection for years to come.
“Sure thing. I’ll have a list of adorable B&Bs in your inbox by the end of the day,” I assured Riley, my tone light but determined. This wasn’t just about suggesting getaway spots; it was about helping them stay tethered to home no matter how far they flew.
And for me... Well, this task, though simple on the surface, was also something of a lifeline. It was a way to feel connected to the whirlwind life I once knew so well, even though it was about planning a quick trip for Riley and his wife rather than for Riley, myself, the band, his security team, and about two dozen other people.
“By the end of the day?” Riley asked, looking at Aubree with feigned shock before lifting a brow at me. “I figured you’d get it to me by lunch.”
Aubree chuckled. “Now, who needs to hold their horses?”
“But... It’sPaisley.” Riley shrugged as if that explained it all, and I preened a little under the compliment.
Though, I couldn’t imagine how I’d have time to get him a soundly-researched list by lunch. Especially considering it was already after nine, and I had a diner efficiency problem to solve. Whether they knew they had an efficiency problem or not, of course.
Almost as if he’d read my mind, Riley cleared his throat. “Now, I know you’ve been keepin’ yourself busy with side projects now that Laney and I aren’t givin’ you enough to do with our music businesses, but I’m still signin’ those paychecks. That means I still get top priority, right?”
I almost laughed, but then I noticed a few people at nearby tables perk up and lean in as if they were very interested in my response.
