Page 22 of Sweetly Yours

I bury my face in my hands, both flustered and... okay, maybe a little giddy. “I had no idea he posted that.”

“Well, he did,” June says, grinning. “And half the women in town are probably crying over it right now. You’ve got yourself quite the catch.”

I peek at her through my fingers, my heart doing an embarrassingly happy little flip. “I guess I kind of do.”

I laugh, shaking my head as I pipe frosting onto a tray of cupcakes. “He’s... amazing, June. Sweet, thoughtful, a little overprotective, but in a good way.”

“Overprotective?” she says, raising a brow. “Like how?”

“Like making sure I’ve eaten, worrying about how much sleep I’m getting, calling me baby in that deep voice of his...”

June claps a hand to her chest like she’s been personally attacked. “Baby? Oh my God, I love this for you.”

“Stop,” I say, laughing again, but my cheeks flush. “It’s just... it feels good, you know? Being with him. Like it’s easy, but still exciting.”

She leans forward, her expression softening. “I’m happy for you, Willow. You deserve this.”

“Thanks,” I say, my heart warming.

The bell above the door jingles, and I glance up, slipping back into my usual “welcome to Sweetly Yours” smile. But the sight of who’s standing there makes my stomach twist.

Tessa.

“Welcome in,” I say, my voice cautious as I set down the piping bag.

Tessa’s smile is wide and fake, her sharp blue eyes sweeping over the bakery like she’s cataloging every detail. She’s dressed in a sleek coat that looks more suited to a designer showroom than a small-town bakery, and her heels click against the floor as she walks up to the counter.

“These were so good, I had to come check it out,” she says, her tone dripping with exaggerated cheer.

I blink, trying to process her words. “Excuse me?”

“The desserts at Brock’s event,” she clarifies, gesturing vaguely. “I had one of those little strawberry cookies. Divine.”

Her compliment feels as fake as her smile, and something about the way she’s looking at me sets me on edge.

“Thanks,” I say slowly, trying to keep my tone neutral. “I’m glad you liked them.”

Tessa leans against the counter, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me. “So, you and Brock... you’re close?”

The question feels loaded, but I nod anyway. “We are.”

Her smile tightens, and she tilts her head. “He’s such a great guy. So thoughtful. Did you know he once drove two hours just to bring me soup when I was sick?”

My stomach twists, but I keep my expression calm. “That sounds like him,” I say evenly.

“Doesn’t it?” she says, her tone almost wistful. “We had such a... deep connection. It’s hard to find that, you know?”

June, who’s been quietly sipping her latte, sets her cup down with a little more force than necessary. “Willow, do you need me to grab something from the back?”

“No, I’m good,” I say, giving her a quick look.

Tessa’s gaze flickers to June, her smile turning icy. “Friend of yours?”

“Best friend,” June says, her tone sharp enough to cut.

Tessa hums, clearly unimpressed, and turns her attention back to me. “Well, I just wanted to stop by and see the place. It’s... quaint.”

“Thanks,” I say, my jaw tightening.

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