Page 21 of Almost Ours
My laugh came out breathy and strained. “I’m fine. I just… I’m sorry, Benny. I didn’t mean to cause a scene. If you need to take it out of my paycheck or anything–”
“Woah, woah, slow your roll,” he interrupted, setting the tray down and walking toward me with exaggerated care. “You didn’t break the espresso machine. You spilled a coffee. You think this place has never seen a hot drink accident before?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he held up a hand.
“Also,” he added with a sly grin, “if you’re gonna dress a customer in caffeine, I gotta say–you picked a good one. He could wear a burlap sack and still look like a lumberjack catalogue come to life.”
I ducked my head, cheeks blazing again. “I should have seen Peaches sneak in here. I’ll make sure to always check. I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.”
“Sugar, it’s only been a week. You don’t have to prove anything to me. Besides…” Benny leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. “He didn’t even blink. That man stood there like a golden retriever who’d just been told he was a good boy.”
Despite everything, I let out a soft, shaky laugh. “He was… really nice about it.”
“Nice?” Benny scoffed, dramatically pressing a hand to his chest. “Honey, that man is more than nice. He’s a damn unicorn in flannel. Handsome, polite and single. Although, he is pretty quiet and keeps to himself. And… I’m pretty sure he lives in some sort of enchanted cabin in the woods.”
I shook my head, still flushed and flustered, but a small smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. Benny disappeared back into the kitchen, humming something upbeat as the scent of sugar intensified around me.
I exhaled and turned back to the counter, my palms still a little sweaty.
Get it together, Harper.
A few minutes later, Benny reappeared, a flour-dusted towel slung over one shoulder and a tray of cinnamon rolls in his hands.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Winterfest.”
I blinked. “Winterfest?”
Benny’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Our town’s annual ode to snow, sugar, and controlled chaos. Vendors set up booths, there’s a tree lighting, carolers, sleigh rides, fireworks, and get this–a hot cocoa tasting competition. I’m entering my peppermint mocha bombshell.”
“Sounds… festive,” I said slowly, already picturing crowds and noise.
He tilted his head, catching the hesitation. “Look, no pressure. I’d love some help setting up my booth this year. I’ve already signed up for a corner spot near the kids’ craft area, and want it to be fabulous.”
I hesitated. The idea of being around that many people made my chest tighten, but the way Benny was looking at me made it hard to say no.
My mouth opened to respond, but the soft jingle of the front door cut through the air.
The hair on the back of my neck rose before I even turned around.
A man stepped in–broad shouldered and imposing in a dark police uniform, the badge on his chest catching the morning light. His dark eyes swept the room like he owned it. A heavy mustache twitched above a mouth set in a permanent smirk. He moved slowly, confidently, the kind of man used to being obeyed before even speaking.
My pulse quickened, dread rising in my throat like bile. I knew–deep down–that Reid wouldn’t involve the police. It would draw too much attention, risk too much exposure. Still… seeing that uniform, that authority, sent a jolt of fear straight through me.
I forced my gaze back to the counter, hands tightening around the edge.
He stopped in front of the counter, casting a slow, appraising glance around the bakery before speaking. “Morning, Benny. Smells like you’re trying to bribe the whole damn town with cinnamon.”
Benny didn’t miss a beat. “Morning, Chief. Just trying to keep Brookhaven sweet.”
The officer huffed a dry laugh and looked over at me as Benny started pouring his coffee. “New around here?”
I nodded once, keeping my voice steady. “Just started last week.”
“Right.” His eyes lingered a second too long. “Well, welcome.”
I managed a polite smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Thank you.”
Without another word, he grabbed the coffee Benny had placed on the counter, dropped a few coins on the counter, andturned on his heel. His presence disappeared through the door, but the unease he left behind lingered like a bad aftertaste.
