His shoulders tense slightly. "Trying not to think about it. Whatever happens, happens. I can't control it."
"But you can control how we handle it," I say softly. "Together."
He lifts our joined hands and presses a kiss to my knuckles. "Of course. Together."
The bell above Chapter & Grind's door feels extra cheerful when we walk in. The afternoon sun streams through the windows, making everything warm and glowing.
Maybe it's because I've been away for a few nights, but the whole place looks like a storybook illustration. And it smells likehome. Coffee and books and the faint hint of cinnamon from yesterday's muffins.
But as I walk through my café, I notice things. Small things that show how well it ran without me.
Every table is clean. The books are perfectly aligned on the shelves. The display case is full of pastries that actually look professional, probably from Summit Café since Ethan can't bake to save his life.
It's wonderful. It's exactly what I hoped to see. It shows me that perhaps I can doallof this. With the right help, even if I win the space at the arena, I can manage two shops at once. My businesscangrow.
So why does my chest feel tight?
I find Lucy's notes next to the register—detailed logs of every odd order, every customer comment, every small victory. Ethan's attempted tea organization is... creative. He's grouped everything by color, which means the Earl Grey is next to the Chamomile because they're both in beige boxes.
I step behind the counter and pull my phone out to text Lucy and say thanks. When I glance at the screen, I see that Sophia's left a voicemail about Arena Day logistics. When I play it back, her voice is excited, professional, completely confident that I'll deliver something amazing.
No pressure or anything.
Pacing as I type the message to Lucy, I glance across the street, and my heart stops.
Summit Café has a huge SOLD sign in the front window.
"Holy shit," I breathe.
Logan appears beside me, dropping our travel bags and following my gaze over the street.
"Well, that's official then."
I stare at the sign, processing what this means. Clara really is leaving. After fifteen years, Summit Café—the café that's beenIron Ridge's morning ritual since before I even dreamed of Chapter & Grind—is gone.
"You okay?" Logan asks.
I nod slowly. "Yeah. It's just... strange. I competed with Summit for so long, and now..."
"Now you're the only game in town."
"Yeah." The weight of that settles on my shoulders. "No more splitting customers. No more friendly rivalry. It's just... me."
Logan wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. "Scared?"
"Terrified," I admit, laughing against his firm chest. "What if I can't live up to what Clara built? What if—"
He turns me in his arms, cutting off my spiral with a soft kiss.
"You're not replacing Clara," he says against my lips. "You're being Emma. That's more than enough."
"Logan, I—"
He spins me around in his arms and smiles down at me. "Come on, let's get you in the shower. They always seem to help refocus that beautiful, whirlwind mind of yours."
I follow behind him, happy that he understands exactly what I need and when I need it. Usually before I even know it myself.
Upstairs, the shower runs hot and steamy, the pressure better than the stream I've had the last few nights up at the cabin.