Page 16 of Rampage

"Nope," Deb says cheerfully. "Small-town life. Get used to it." Her expression softens. "He's a good man, Lily. I wouldn't say that if I didn't believe it."

"I know." I trace the rim of my coffee cup. "That's what scares me."

"Because good things don't happen to you?" She raises an eyebrow. "Or because you're afraid to want something for yourself?"

Both, I think, but I don't say it aloud. "I'm going back home," I tell her instead. "For Jeremy's wedding. I decided the other night."

Deb's surprise is evident. "That's a big step."

"Reid offered to go with me."

She nods slowly. "And?"

"And I don't know." I stand, suddenly restless. "I've been taking care of myself for so long. Depending on someone else feels… dangerous."

"Independence is important," Deb agrees. "But so is knowing when to accept help." She finishes her coffee and stands. "Just think about it. And if you want my opinion, which you didn't ask for but I'm giving anyway, having a Sinner watching your back isn't a bad thing.”

She heads toward the door, then pauses. "Oh, and Mrs. Winters called. She needs you to come in early today—some special order came through."

After Deb leaves, I shower and dress quickly, my mind still processing everything. The hot water washes away the last traces of sleep, but not the memory of Reid's hands steadying me on his motorcycle, or the intensity in his eyes when he promised to protect me.

My phone buzzes with another text from him.

Can I see you today?

I hesitate, then reply, Working both jobs. Bakery until 2, then diner until close.

His response comes almost immediately.

I'll stop by. Need to eat anyway.

This makes me smile despite myself. The idea of seeing him again sends a flutter through my stomach that I'm not entirely comfortable with, but can't deny either.

At the bakery, Mrs. Winters is already elbow-deep in dough when I arrive. "There you are, dear! We've got a special order for the Sinners' monthly meeting. Twenty-four assorted pastries needed by this afternoon."

My hands freeze in the act of tying my apron. "The Sinners?"

Mrs. Winters nods, oblivious to my reaction. "They always order from us for their important meetings. Reid's father, Aiden's his name, called it in personally this morning."

"Oh." The coincidence seems too perfect to be accidental.

"Such nice boys, those Sinners," Mrs. Winters continues, rolling out the dough with practiced movements. "Not what people expect when they hear 'motorcycle club.' They've kept this town safe for years."

I work silently beside her, my mind racing. Did Reid arrange this order as an excuse to see me again? Or is it genuinely coincidental?

The morning passes in a blur of flour and sugar. By lunchtime, we've prepared an assortment of pastries that would make any professional bakery proud: cinnamon rolls, apple turnovers, chocolate croissants, and Mrs. Winters's famous raspberry tarts.

"Perfect timing," Mrs. Winters says as we're boxing everything up. "Reid just pulled up outside."

Sure enough, his motorcycle is parked in front of the bakery, and he's removing his helmet as I watch through the window. He's wearing his leather vest today, the Grim Sinners patch prominent on the back. Something about seeing him in full club attire makes this all feel more real, more serious.

The bell jingles as he enters, and his eyes find mine immediately.

"Ladies," he greets us, but his gaze stays locked on me. "Something smells amazing."

"Just in time to pick up the order for your meeting," Mrs. Winters says with a knowing smile. "And perhaps take our Lily to lunch before her next shift?"

I shoot her a look—traitor—but she just winks at me.

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