Page 44 of The Moment He Saw Her

She walked out from behind the counter and started collecting dishes. Taking them to the kitchen, Libby began working through a plan for where to stay tonight. For four days she’d searched, but tonight she’d find somewhere. It didn’t matter where; she was exhausted at the end of the day, so as long as there was a bed, she was good with that.

Ryder worked at a pace Libby had no hope keeping up with. He was always moving—cleaning, baking, clearing tables, or on the phone to suppliers. The man seemed to have an inexhaustible well of energy.

He also has a girlfriend you didn’t know about.

Libby had come to realize that The Swing Through Cafe was a community hub for people in Lyntacky. They came to sit and talk, and from what she’d overheard, they discussed a whole lot of nothing but were happy with that.

When she went to a cafe with a family member or friend or on her own, it was to look at her phone, check messages, scroll social media, or have a business meeting with someone. Here it was different and made her think maybe she needed to take more time in her life to just sit and talk. Perhaps if she’d done that, Libby might have found the courage to tell someone how she really felt about getting married. Instead, it had taken those words from Andrew to send her running.

Libby had wanted to get married, or so she’d always believed. Now, with distance and time to think, she wasn’t so sure she did… well, at least not to Andrew. Their wedding had always felt like a contract between two families, no matter how much she’d fooled herself otherwise. But she’d gone along with the plans, so that was on her. She should have been braver. Should have spoken when she’d experienced doubts. Instead, she’d been who she always was. The good girl who did exactly what her daddy wanted.

After cleaning up the kitchen, she wiped down the tables. Meadow only worked a half day today, so she’d gone already.

Looking to the door, she noted that Ryder had turned the sign to Closed. She swept and mopped the floor, refilled what needed refilling on the tables, and then she was done.

She found Ryder upstairs in the small office. It was nice here, and she could imagine in the summer, with the door open, patrons would love looking out at the water and mountains. It made her feel a little sad she wouldn’t be here to see it.

Looking at the back of his head, she felt that little charge of heat and stomped on it. Three weeks ago, she’d been about to marry the man she’d loved… or believed she’d loved. Clearly, she hadn’t, as Libby could honestly say she didn’t miss Andrew at all. But that didn’t mean she could want someone else—namely, Ryder Duke, who she now knew had a girlfriend.

“I need to find a place to stay tonight,” she said to the back of Ryder’s head.

“Sure, and I’ll see you later when you don’t. Okay?” He was frowning at the screen of his laptop.

“I will,” she said. “Plus you need me gone for when your girlfriend comes around.”

“SJ is not my girlfriend.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen.

“She certainly looked like she was,” Libby said and then wished she’d kept her mouth shut. What business of hers was it if he wanted to kiss people in his cafe?

“Not my girlfriend,” he muttered.

She thought that was a lie because that kiss wasn’t the action of a woman who hadn’t done exactly that with her man before.

“Whatever,” Libby said. “Is everything all right? You look confused about something.”

“Spreadsheet.” He sighed. “Formulas and stuff. They give me hives.”

She leaned in to look over his shoulder. The man smelled of baking and something spicy.

“What’s the problem?” Her eyes scanned the screen. Libby loved spreadsheets.

“You tell me—you’re the accountant,” he said.

“I could take a look if you like. I mean, this is your personal?—”

“Have at it,” he interrupted her and then got out of the seat so fast, she stumbled back a step. “Sorry.” His hands steadied her. “You know this stuff, and it gives me a massive headache. I mean, ask me to bake a Sachertorte, and I’m your man. Chop that wood pile? Done. Punch someone? Easy. But accounting?” He shuddered.

“What is a Sachertorte?”

“A fancy cake. So are you going to save me, seeing as I’ve saved you multiple times?”

“Multiple?”

“A few,” he conceded.

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