Page 65 of Small Town Sizzle

We walk out of the shop together, the cool morning air hitting us as we step onto the sidewalk. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, still holding the coffee he picked up for me.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admit, feeling awkward and a little overwhelmed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says, his tone casual but kind. “Just enjoy the coffee. And the bagel.”

I look down at the brown bag in his hand and laugh softly. “You really didn’t have to go all out like this.”

Garrett shrugs, his grin turning playful. He leans forward and kisses me on the cheek.

“Buying you breakfast isn’t going all out, Maya. We haven’t even scratched the surface. Have a good day, Maya. I’ll see you later.”

He walks toward his car and is gone while I’m still standing there with my jaw hanging open.

Could it be that he is different? Or is this all just a ploy to get me to trust him? Devon was incredibly sweet when he wanted something. And most guys are the most amazing men in the universe before they sleep with you, he already got that, so why is he being so nice and thoughtful?

Could that just be who he really is?

The thought hangs there for a moment. I clutch the coffee cup in my hand. It’s wild how irrational my thoughts can become when I’m stressed out like I have been lately.

He really is so thoughtful and sweet. My heart is saying to give him a chance, but can I really trust it right now? Do I want to trust that right now?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Garrett

Ishould have asked Maya on a date when she was standing in front of me. I’ll make sure I catch her at the youth center later today.

She seemed so shocked that I brought them dinner last night and got her coffee this morning. I can only assume that she’s not used to someone doing nice things for her without an agenda.

I’ll have to work harder to make sure she knows she deserves that and more.

I push the door open to our construction office, the familiar smell of fresh lumber and coffee hitting me instantly. Laura is at the front desk, headset on, multitasking between the phone cradled against her ear and the stack of papers she’s flipping through.

“Morning, Laura,” I say with a quick wave as I walk past her.

She flashes a smile at me, mouthing, “Good morning,” before returning to her phone call.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.

I’ve been back in Hicks Creek for some time, but this is the first time I’ve actually been to our construction company. Either Ethan has met me at Mom’s, or I’ve met him at his house and the youth center to discuss things. I’d avoided coming in here as much as I could, because I hadn’t stepped foot in the building since my dad died.

The office feels different from the way it felt when I was a teenager coming in to visit my parents. It also feels the same as it always has, a mix of comforting and functional. I glance around the large room and see that Ethan has an office with his name on the door. Next to it is another room with my name on the door.

I’ve never been here as the co-owner, but my brother still made sure I had an office. He’s something else.

I drop my laptop bag onto the desk in my office and sink into the worn leather chair, rolling it closer to the desk with a faint creak.

After powering up my laptop, I log in and pull up my browser. Oakmont Holdings has been buzzing around in my head since I went to the courthouse yesterday. Something about it doesn’t sit right. Too polished, too smooth. People and companies like that tend to leave a trail somewhere—it’s just a matter of knowing where to look.

At first, everything I find is glowing. Their website is slick and professional, filled with phrases like “sustainable development” and “community partnerships.” There are testimonials from happy clients and successful projects splashed across the home page, all tied together with glossy photos of smiling families and pristine green spaces.

I lean back in my chair, frowning. Something feels… off.

I start changing up my search terms, digging a little deeper. I try Oakmont Holdings complaints, then Oakmont Holdings lawsuits, and finally Oakmont Holdings controversies. That’swhen I find it—a private Facebook group titled Stop Oakmont Holdings: Protecting Our Communities.

The group is private, but the description is enough to grab my attention. It mentions underhanded tactics, deception, and community uproar in places where Oakmont has tried to muscle in. There are hints about fake personas, environmental manipulation, and even bogus familial claims to land.

“Bingo,” I mutter, clicking the Join Group button.

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