Page 9 of Hold the Line

I scanned my brother, gauging whether he felt any kind of way about Shelby dating. He was as relaxed as always. He and Shelby had never been anything serious, but after Jess was born, they’d tried for a while. It hadn’t worked out, and as far as I could see, there were no hard feelings. Not that Caleb would share if there were. He wasn’t a big talker.

“That’s good he isn’t hanging around the house yet,” I replied. “Are you hungry? Want something from the case?”

“I’d never say no to anything you make. Pick something for me.”

Cay ran a hand over his rounded stomach—a trait we’d both inherited from our dad. For Cay and Dad, the roundness was limited to their middles, while the rest of them were solid and strong from the backbreaking labor they did every day on the ranch. In contrast, I was plump all over, thanks to years of sampling the treats I baked.

I picked out a blondie and muffin for Cay then made him a coffee. He and Jesse hung around for a while, and I went back and forth between them and the few customers I had since Camille had gone home for the day. When it was almost time to close, the two helped me by wiping down tables.

“I don’t like you being here alone,” Caleb groused.

“I’m thinking about hiring an afternoon worker. I put in a job notice at the high school.” I had someone who worked weekends, but I needed another person during the week. I couldn’t keep asking Camille to work twelve-hour shifts. She’d burn out, and I’d be screwed if I lost her.

“That’s good. You work too hard.” Caleb frowned at the empty seating area. “You should close now.”

I shook my head. “There are always last-minute customers. I’ll close at five.”

He huffed. “You sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“Of course. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He put his hand on Jesse’s shoulder, still seeming conflicted. “I’d stick around if I didn’t have to get this kid to his mom’s.”

Jesse puffed up his scrawny chest. “I can’t be late for spaghetti night. Mom and I are making meatballs. She hates to touch the raw meat, so that’s all on me.”

I smiled at him. “Get out of here then. Don’t let your mom down.”

“I won’t.”

They were off soon after that, leaving me in a quiet shop. I started my cleaning routine, keeping an eye on the clock. We still had a half hour before closing, and chances were there’d be a few stragglers. There wasn't much left in my pastry case, but I’d rather it not go to waste.

The bells over the door tinkled. Crouched behind the counter, grabbing extra cup sleeves, I yelled out, “Be right with you!”

That was how he’d gotten so close.

I stood, spinning around, and the asshole from earlier in the week was leaning over the counter only a foot or two from me. On instinct, I stepped back, my hands going to my chest.

He chuckled, mean and humorless. “Did I scare you?”

What was his name? Ry? He and his friend hadn’t been back since the incident, and I’d been hoping that had been the end of it. I’d been wrong.

“You startled me, but that’s my fault. My mind was elsewhere.” Loosening my arms, I forced them to my sides. “How can I help you?”

Taking his time, he looked over the pastries I had left. While he did, I slipped my phone from my pocket, just in case I needed to use it. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was less than comfortable being alone with him.

“Give me one of them brownies. I could use a coffee too, if you still have some brewed.”

I jumped again at the sound of his voice, making him snicker. “Sure. Just a second.”

I moved as quickly as possible, pouring his coffee and slipping his brownie into a bag. He followed me over to the cash register, using his phone to pay. I told him to have a nice day, crossing my fingers he’d get the message, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry.

He took a long sip of his coffee, peering at me over the lid. “He’s still not over it, you know.”

I gripped the edge of the counter. “I’m not sure what you mean, but we’re getting ready to close. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to take your coffee to go.”

He leaned his hip against the counter. “Still got ten minutes ’til closing. Think I’ll stay right here, enjoy my drink. You can go about your business. I won’t be no bother.”

I tucked hair that had slipped free from my braid behind my ear. “Actually, I have to close early tonight. Thanks for coming in.”

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