Buthervoice keeps echoing, threaded with laughter and heat.
I don’t even know her. Not really. Just a girl with flushed cheeks and a cider cup, who walked up to my booth like she was chasing something and found me instead.
I shouldn’t have let her get under my skin.
I shouldn’t have noticed the way her lips wrapped around my name.
I shouldn’t have smirked.
But I did.
And now I’m standing in the middle of a half-finished restaurant I’ve poured millions into, wondering if she’ll show up again.
God, I hope she doesn’t.
Because I’m not built for temptation anymore.
And Josie?
She’s the kind of temptation that doesn’t knock.
She sings.
And damn if I’m not still hearing the echo.
CHAPTER FOUR
Josie
Morningsat the Timberline Inn are never quiet.
The coffee maker’s groaning like it’s on its last leg, Moose is already thumping his giant tail against the linoleum in anticipation of toast crusts, and my mom is humming Patsy Cline like she’s the headliner at the Grand Ole Opry.
It's chaos, but it’s home.
I’m sitting at the pine kitchen table, nursing a chipped mug of coffee that tastes like comfort and burnt beans, while Dee bangs around the fridge muttering something about how “we’re out of oat milk again, which is probably a hate crime.”
“You live in the mountains, sweetie,” Mom says without looking up from her skillet. “You’re lucky I even let that oat milk nonsense through the front door.”
“Dairy hates me!” Dee protests, pulling out the jar of homemade strawberry jam like it’s an act of war.
“Dairy hates everyone,” I chime in, grinning into my mug. “But we keep crawling back. Like your high school boyfriend, remember him? What was his name Buck?”
“Brock,” Dee corrects with a groan, “and don’t you dare bring him up unless you want me to start talking about your karaokeperformance at Stella’s. Yeah, small town. I’ve heard all about it.”
“That was art,” I say, holding up a hand. “That was an emotionally vulnerable performance art.”
“I heard you screamed Alanis like a woman exorcising a demon,” Dee deadpans.
“Don’t be cruel,” Mom adds with a wink, flipping something golden and fluffy in the pan. “I’m sure it was beautiful. The whole night, right?”
My stomach does this weird little lurch.
Knox.
He was hot… fun.
But I’m glad I won’t have to see him again.
