Page 38 of Bittersweet

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Attending the food truck festival on Saturday hadn’t been planned. In fact, when Logan mentioned it over a week ago, she’d had no intention of going at all. Especially after the things he’d said to her at the shop that day. She hadn’t been able to think straight since then. He’d always had a way with words, which was one of the things that had first drawn her to him.

Even though she understood why he had left, she couldn’t think about him and pretend it hadn’t happened. He had broken her heart, and the fear that he might do it again if she let him back in simmered within.

With her emotions a mess and underlying guilt over rejecting Brett the other day, she had decided to take Saturday afternoon off to make it up to him. The food truck festival had been Brett’s idea, and her suggestion of a nice dinner downtown and a stroll along the river had fallen on deaf ears.

The festival appeared to be a huge success. The large lot was lined with trucks and packed with people enjoying every variety of delicious foods you could imagine—Mexican, burgers, smoothies … coffee. A nervous sensation churned in her stomach as she spotted Logan’s truck. She had told Brett that they were selling their baked goods at a coffee truck, but she hadn’t exactly come clean about who owned the truck, only that Savannah was in charge of all that.

There was a long line outside his truck, just as there had been last time she’d seen it. She wondered how their goodies were selling.

“Is that the truck where you’re selling your stuff?” Brett tilted his head toward Logan’s truck.

He had obviously seen where she was looking. “Uh, yeah.”

“Looks like they’re doing well.”

“I hope so.”

“Should we stop by and check up on things?” He started moving in that direction.

“Nah.” Harper wound her fingers through his and walked on past. “Unless you want some coffee,” she added, not wanting to make it too obvious that she was avoiding that particular truck.

Brett’s eyes traveled farther down the line. “I want that!” He led her in the direction of a BBQ truck.

Harper glanced over her shoulder at Logan’s truck as they passed, wondering if he’d seen her, wishing she didn’t care.

She looked over at the man walking next to her. The sun made his blond hair appear even lighter. His gaze was fixed on the BBQ truck like he was ready to devour the first thing he saw, which made her giggle.

He turned his eyes on her. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re cute.”

“Cute? What are we, twelve?” He winked, then squeezed her hand as they got in line for food.

She thought about the day they first met, how he had walked into the bake shop to get muffins for his office, and how he’d stopped by five minutes before closing that same day to ask her to dinner.

She had politely declined. He was a complete stranger, after all.

But he was nothing if not persistent, stopping in once—sometimes twice—a week, starting up conversations with her whenever he could. And after about a month of that, when he asked her out again, she had agreed.

Brett was steady and safe and loyal, and not once since she’d been with him had she ever worried he would disappear without explanation. She trusted that he would stick around, and that’s what she needed—someone reliable and trustworthy.

“Harper.”

She came out of her thoughts. “Huh?”

“What do you want?” He pointed at the menu.

She chose a pulled pork sandwich, and they walked to a little section of picnic tables set up for the event to enjoy their lunch. And enjoy it they did.

“What kind of lives do you think these food truck people live?” Brett wiped the BBQ sauce from his mouth with a napkin.

Harper’s face screwed up a little. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do they travel all over to sell their food or are they all local?”

“Probably a little of both,” Harper said with a shrug.

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