Page 4 of Knot Your Sugar Rush
Chapter three
Cam
The building has sea-green trim and a view of the water that doesn’t feel real.
It’s wedged between a candle shop that smells like summer nostalgia and an art gallery that hasn’t changed since I was twelve. The storefront is modest—white-painted brick with big sunny windows, and a teal door with a bell that jingles when I push it open. The air smells like saltwater and sun-warmed wood, with a faint undercurrent of lavender from the shop next door.
It’s perfect.
Which means it’s probably wildly out of my price range.
I step inside, heart thudding like I’ve done something I’m not supposed to. The hardwood floors are worn in the best way—scuffed and golden—and the walls are already painted a soft cream, letting in light from the front windows like it’s being invited in.
I can see it so clearly: jars of sweets lining the wall behind the counter, copper scoops, ribbon-wrapped boxes. A chalkboard menu hung just so. A little corner with a table for kids tocolor, another for old-timers to sip coffee and argue over whose grandkid is the most gifted.
I walk slowly across the room, trying not to let my imagination run away with me.
“Too expensive,” I whisper to myself, not sure I’m ready to spend Gram’s kind gift so quickly. “Too risky. You need startup funds. Inventory. Packaging. You haven’t even written a business plan in years.”
And still.
I close my eyes and breathe in. And that’s when I smellhim.
Warm cedar. Brown sugar. Cinnamon, like toast in the morning. The scent hits me like a wave—familiar in a way that stirs something instinctive and inconvenient.
I turn around, startled.
There’s a man standing in the doorway, the light behind him making him look a little like the poster child for small-town charm. Sandy-blond hair tousled like he’s been running errands in the wind, wide shoulders, and a smile that could melt butter.
“Hey there,” he says, easy as a breeze. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
I blink. “You didn’t. I was, uh... distracted.”
He grins, stepping inside. “First time seeing the place?”
I nod. “I’ve been looking around town. This one caught my eye. I didn’t think anything was still available this close to the water.”
“Most things aren’t,” he agrees, moving past me to look around like he’s inspecting it with fresh eyes. “But this spot’s been empty for a while. The last tenant ran a coastal gift shop—left town for Portland.”
He turns back to me, his gaze curious but kind. “You local? You look a little familiar.”
“Camellia Vale,” I say, offering a small smile. “I used to live here. Left about five years ago. I just moved back.”
His eyes brighten. “Oh! You’re Rosie’s granddaughter. I’m Jamie Clarke. I think I fixed your Gram’s leaky porch last fall.”
Of course. Everyone in Starling Grove knows everyone.
I nod again, a little flustered. “That sounds like Gram. Always baking and always needing repairs.”
Jamie chuckles. “She’s good people. So… what are you thinking for the space?”
I glance around, a little shy. “A candy shop. Small batch, handcrafted stuff. It was something my sister and I dreamed of doing together. She passed away a few years ago, but… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about making it real.”
“That’s a beautiful idea,” Jamie says quietly. “I can already picture it. What would you do with the layout?”
I blink at him. “You want to hear my vision?”
“Indulge me.”
