Page 49 of Balancing Act

“You should have. You should,” he said, meaning right here, right now.

And God, I wanted to. But I couldn’t. He was actively fighting against my business and he couldn’t even tell me how he felt about me.

“No.” Folding the letter with an aggression that belied my crumbling resolve, I held it up. “I'm fighting this.”

And I meant us, too.

He watched me with those piercing blue eyes, the ones that could look right through me. “Eryn . . .”

“Goodbye, Gray.” I didn't wait for his response, turning on my heel and heading down the hallway, back into the kitchen where I could cry in peace.

A moment later, the door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the empty rooms. I stood there, taking in the dust motes dancing in the afternoon light, the peeling wallpaper, and the vast potential that lay within these walls. I pressed a hand to my chest, willing my heartbeat to steady.

“Damn you,” I whispered into the silence.

15

Eryn

I still hate Gray Anderson.

16

Eryn

The bell above the door of Campfire Bakery jingled merrily as I stepped inside, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning in my gut. The air was heavy with the scent of cinnamon and sugar and the promise of carbs, soothing my frayed nerves. I spotted Sutton Turner behind the counter, piping what looked like chocolate ganache onto a mountain of cupcakes.

On my many (how many was too many?) trips to the bakery, I’d learned that Sutton owned it, and grew up here in Whittier Falls on a cattle ranch south of town. She was kind and friendly and I adored her.

“Hey, Eryn!” Her smile was as warm as the ovens lining the back wall. “What brings you in today? Stress-baking's on the house for friends.”

“Is it that obvious?” I smiled, trying to match her cheer, but I think my face just twitched instead, like a short-circuited animatronic.

“Let's just say you've got that 'my world is imploding' look about you.” She set down the piping bag and leaned against the counter, gray eyes soft with concern.

I sighed, letting my shoulders slump. “It's Gray. He's opposing my zoning application.”

“Gray?” Sutton's brow furrowed, her surprise genuine. “But he loves this town. Why would he?—“

“Because he's Gray,” I interjected, equal parts exasperated and heartbroken. “Stubborn as they come.”

“My cousin is just like my brother. They’re both stubborn as hell and cut from the same cloth.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, Gray and Damon are so alike. You probably haven’t met Damon yet, he’s even more unsocial than Gray, if you can believe it.”

My head spun at the realization. “Gray is your cousin?”

Her eyes widened for a moment. “Oh, yes, I guess I forgot to mention that sooner. It’s just, everyone here knows us, I kinda just forgot you wouldn’t have known.”

“I’m sorry for complaining about your family,” I said, not sorry in the least as far as Gray was concerned. But I did feel bad dragging Sutton into it.

“Don’t you apologize! I’m on your side in this. I’ve had to deal with those two stubborn mules my whole life.”

“I can’t believe there’s two of them,” I said under my breath.

“Sit down. I'll bring you some tea,” she instructed, pointing to a corner table before bustling off.

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