The familiar scent of sawdust and wood greets me as I flip on the lights. This space has always been my sanctuary, where I can quiet my thoughts by focusing on creating something with my hands. Tonight, I need that more than ever.
My eyes land on the maple wood I salvaged two years ago. I’d found it after a storm, a fallen tree too beautiful to let go to waste. I’ve been waiting for the right project, letting it season properly, and now I know exactly what it’s meant to be.
I run my hand along the smooth grain. The wood is perfect—rich with character and warm tones that will complement the exposed brick walls of Special Blend.
I grab my sketchbook and start planning. The bookcase needs to be sturdy enough to hold plenty of books but elegant enough to match Caspian’s vision for his bookstore corner. I picture him arranging romance novels on it, his face lighting up the way it does when he talks about his plans.
The design flows easily. Clean lines with subtle decorative elements that echo the maple leaves in the town’s logo. It feels right, like the wood has been waiting for this purpose.
I lose myself in the work, measuring and cutting with careful precision. The rhythmic sawing helps quiet the voice in my head that keeps thinking about Caspian.
Hours pass as I shape the wood, each piece coming together exactly as I envisioned. Dawn is breaking by the time I set down my tools. The basic frame is complete. My back aches from bending over the workbench, but it’s the good kind of pain that comes from creating something meaningful.
Looking at the partially finished bookcase, I realize maybe I’m in deeper trouble than I thought. Because even though I barely know Caspian it already feels like this isn’t just about physical attraction anymore. This is about wanting to make Caspian smile, wanting to be part of his dream, wanting…
What is it about him?
I shut down my thoughts hard. It doesn’t matter what I want. I learned my lesson with Addy—sometimes love isn’t enough, and what seems perfect can shatter in an instant.
But as I clean up my workshop, all I can think about are the next steps for the bookcase.
The morning light is harsh on my tired eyes as I drive to work. My thoughts are fuzzy from lack of sleep, but my hands still tingle with the memory of working the maple, of creating something special for Caspian.
Amelia’s already at her desk when I walk into the office, her usual cheerful smile fading as she takes in my appearance. “You look like hell, Nate.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, making a beeline for the coffee maker.
She follows me, concern etched on her face. “Did you sleep at all?”
“Got caught up in the workshop.” I pour coffee into my mug, avoiding her knowing gaze.
“The workshop?” Her voice sharpens. “Nate, the last time you pulled an all-nighter in there was when…”
“This isn’t like that,” I cut her off, perhaps too quickly. “I just… I’m working on a project.”
“A project.” She crosses her arms, unconvinced. “The kind of project that keeps you up all night after spending the evening with your new neighbor?”
I nearly spill my coffee. “How did you?—”
“Small town,” she reminds me with a slight smile. “My friend from goat yoga works at the ice rink. And you know she has a crush on you. Said you were teaching someone to skate last night. Someone wearing your coat.”
I grunt noncommittally and take a long sip of coffee.
“Nate.” Her voice softens. “It’s okay to move on, you know. Addy also wants?—”
“I’ve got reports to file,” I interrupt, retreating to my office before she can finish that thought. Because this isn’t about Addy. This is about protecting myself—and Caspian—from whatever this thing between us might become.
But as I stare at my computer screen, all I can think about is the half-finished bookcase waiting in my workshop and the way Caspian’s eyes might light up when he sees it.
CHAPTER 10
CASPIAN
The morning rush has finally died down, giving me a chance to catch my breath and wipe down the counter for what feels like the hundredth time. I’m starting to understand why Old Mac retired—running a coffee shop single-handed is no joke.
I worked my way up in this business from inexperienced barista to team leader to manager before I quit to look after my mom. But when you own a business, the stakes are higher, and there’s a whole new level of pressure I’m still getting used to.
I’m grateful I took Olivia’s suggestion about doing a soft opening first because it’s giving me a chance to find my rhythm before the grand opening.
