As he settled in for the night, the weight of the day pressed down on him. But for the first time in a long time, he felt something akin to hope. Whatever came next, he knew one thing for certain: he wouldn’t face it alone.
Chapter 11 - Cora
Cora wiped her hands on her apron and glanced at the clock above the bakery’s counter. Fifteen minutes until closing. Fifteen more minutes of keeping her smile plastered in place, even as unease twisted in her stomach like a coiled rope ready to snap.
“Excuse me?” The overly polite tone jarred her attention back to the man standing at the counter. He was tall, with a clean-shaven face and pale, gray eyes that seemed too focused on her every move. He pointed at the display case. “How fresh are those cinnamon rolls?”
“Baked this morning,” she answered automatically. She reached for a bag and the tongs. “Would you like one?”
“Two.” He leaned on the counter as he spoke, but his eyes weren’t on the pastries. They were on her. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”
Cora froze for half a second before forcing her hands to keep moving. “Not really. Been here a while now.” She slid the cinnamon rolls into the bag, praying the tremble in her fingers wasn’t obvious.
“Funny, I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”
She smiled tightly, ignoring the prickling unease that crawled up her spine. “Small town, but I guess it’s still easy to miss people.” She placed the bag on the counter. “That’ll be six-fifty.”
The man didn’t move for a moment, as if weighing his options, before finally pulling a crumpled bill from his wallet. He handed it over, brushing his fingers against hers longer than necessary. “Thanks. See you around.”
Cora kept her gaze fixed on the door long after it swung shut behind him. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her instincts screamed at her that something about him wasn’t right.
“That guy’s been in here three times this week, but that’s the first time he’s actually ordered something,” Laila commented from behind her. “Is it just me, or is he…weird?”
Cora turned to find her friend leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.
“He’s fine,” Cora responded, though the words tasted like a lie. “Just another customer.”
“He was staring at you like you’re a freaking science experiment. That’s not normal.”
“It’s nothing,” Cora insisted, busying herself with wiping down the counter. “People look. I’m used to it.”
“Looking is one thing. That guy is practically taking notes.” Laila plucked the rag from Cora’s hand, forcing her to stop. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Cora insisted, though her voice wavered. “It’s just…things have been weird lately. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just imagining it.”
“You’re not imagining anything. I’ve seen it too. The strangers. The ones who come in and don’t buy anything but still hang around like they’re waiting for something.”
Laila studied her closely before declaring, “You’re scared.”
“I’m not,” Cora lied.
“Bullshit,” Laila shot back. “You’re jumpy as hell, and it’s not just because of random customers. What’s really going on?”
Cora was torn between the urge to unload everything and the fear of pulling Laila into the mess her life had become. Finally, she sighed. “It’s…complicated.”
“Try me.”
Cora bit her lip, and her gaze darted to the window as if the wrong word might summon trouble. “Grayson’s been…worried about something. He thinks there might be people looking for me. From the auction.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me this sooner? Jesus, Cora, if you’re in danger—”
“I’m not,” Cora interrupted. “Not yet, anyway. Grayson’s handling it.”
Laila scoffed. “Handling it? You’re living above a bakery in the middle of nowhere. If people are after you, that’s not exactly a fortress.”
“It’s not like I have options. This is where I ended up. This is where I’ve been safe.”
“Until now,” Laila pointed out. “Look, I’m not trying to scare you. But if something’s going on, you need to take it seriously. Even if Grayson’s involved.”
