Jane passed our table then, her attention fixed on the coffee station. I stood without thinking and reached for the empty carafe.
“Can I?” I asked, stopping myself before finishing the sentence.
She glanced up, startled, then smiled. “If you want to.”
I filled the carafe and returned it, stepping back immediately as Jane finished refilling the station with supplies. Her smile lingered before she excused herself and went back towards the kitchen.
That smile felt like a small victory. Also the fact she was lingering a little longer in my presence lately.
I sat back down and closed my laptop. Work could wait a few minutes. I had already decided I was staying. Not because it was convenient, but because leaving felt like a mistake I would regret long after the road curved away from Maple Ridge.
“I think we can let the office know we have extended our stay,” Dex observed, his lip twitching in an almost grin before he took another sip of his coffee.
“Thank you,” I told him. Not that I had to thank him but it was nice to have someone who understood. Besides, I knew he wanted to spend time with Lucy, so it wasn’t a hardship for him to stay as well.
I thought about Jane, with her curves, her peaches and cream complexion, her blue eyes and her strawberry blondehair. When she smiled at me, I felt like my heart swelled. I wanted to know everything about her. I felt like I could do a lifetime of learning about Jane and never tire of it.
Perhaps I already was in love. It was both frightening and exhilarating.
The front door opened then, letting in a blast of cold air. I had a direct view of the lobby as he approached the desk.
He was confident and moved in a practiced way. His clothes were well fashioned. He leaned on the lobby desk, talking to Kitty in a slightly condescending manner despite his smile. It made me instantly annoyed. He scanned the lobby, his eyes drawn to the reception room where Jane had some bar towels to replace the ones at the coffee station.
As if drawn like a magnet, Jane looked over to the lobby.
She froze. It was brief. Easy to miss. But I saw it.
The man smiled like a predator before turning back to Kitty. I watched Jane’s expression close in on itself, her shoulders drawing inward as though she were making herself smaller as she turned, moving almost frantically quickly out of the room, no doubt back to the safety of the kitchen.
I didn’t know who he was, but I knew I didn’t like him.
Not because of what he said, but because he had taken something from Jane. She had looked lost the moment he walked through the door.
Chapter Three: Breathe
Jane
The moment I left the lobby, my feet carried me straight into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind me with a familiar whoosh of air and a soft click. I stopped just inside, gripping the nearest counter until my palms ached. The heat from the ovens pressed against my back. The scent of citrus peel and cinnamon drifted lazily through the room. Under any other circumstance, those smells would have grounded me.
Today they barely made a dent.
I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly, holding the breath as long as I could before letting it leave in a thin, shaky stream. My heart was beating too fast. Not wildly, but fast enough that I could feel it pulsing in places I didn't usually notice. My fingertips. My throat. My ribs. I hated that I could still react like this. I hated even more that I had no control over it.
I opened my eyes again. The kitchen was exactly as I had left it. A bowl of dough rested beneath a cloth, rising softly in the warm air. A tray of cooling scones sat near the window. The citrus I had zested earlier clung to the cutting board in pale flecks. Everything in the room was exactly as it should be.
Everything except me.
I picked up the mixing bowl, moved it two inches to the left, then moved it back again because it hadn’t needed moving in the first place. My hands were trembling. I tucked them behind my apron to hide it, cheeks warming with the familiar shame of letting someone like him shake me after all this time.
Behind the closed kitchen door, the muted sound of voices drifted in. Kitty’s bright, cheerful notes. And beneath it, James’ smooth, confident cadence, warm as syrup and twice as sticky. It carried through the wood like something alive, sliding into the room without invitation.
He had always spoken that way. As if every word he delivered was a gift. As if the rest of us should be grateful to listen.
I swallowed hard and looked down at my prep list, though the ink had blurred along the edges from where my thumb pressed too tightly into the paper.
You aren't his employee anymore. You don't owe him anything. You don't need his approval.
The thoughts helped, but only in the way a thin blanket helps in a snowstorm. Better than nothing. Not nearly enough.
