Jake's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he stepped into the warm circle of light around Hannah's desk. "About what?"
"The Miller Street space." Richard pulled out another chair. "Tell her it's perfect for a second location. All that foot traffic from the renovated inn, the historic charm—it's ideal."
Hannah watched Jake's jaw tighten for a fraction of a second before he relaxed into an easy smile. "You know I don't get between Everetts and their business decisions." He settled his large frame into the chair, his knee brushing Hannah's under the desk.
Pride bloomed in Hannah's chest. She'd grown up watching her father breathe life back into Crystal Lake's historic buildings, preserving the town's charm while helping other small business owners thrive. The way he looked at old spaces—seeing possibility where others saw decay—had shaped her entire worldview.
"The inn's going to be spectacular," Richard said, leaning back in his chair. "You should see the original woodwork we uncovered. Nineteenth-century craftsmanship you can't replicate. Speaking of which—" He pulled a folder from his briefcase. "Hannah, I need you to sign these. Just some routine maintenance paperwork for the bakery. Might as well handle it while we're all here."
Hannah barely glanced at the documents as she signed, trusting her father the way she always had. The way everyone in Crystal Lake trusted Richard Everett.
"You're a good girl." Richard's voice was warm as he tucked the papers away. "Now, who wants to hear about the secret spaces we found behind the inn's walls? The history in that building..."
Hannah settled back in her chair, letting her father's voice wash over her. Jake's hand found her knee under the desk, his fingers tangling with hers. She squeezed back, grateful for this moment—for her father's passion, for Jake's steady presence, for the perfect life they were building together.
She leaned into Jake's warmth, breathed in the lingering scent of coffee and cinnamon, and felt utterly, completely safe.
Evening wrappedaround Crystal Lake like a warm blanket, strings of lights twinkling in the trees along Main Street. They'd had dinner together and now Hannah's fingers were laced through Jake's as they walked back toward Sugar & Spice, towards her cozy apartment above the bakery. His grip felt different tonight. Tighter. Like he was afraid she'd slip away.
"Hannah Elizabeth Everett!" Mrs. Wilson called from her perch on the hardware store's front bench. She'd been holding court there every evening for as long as Hannah could remember. "Those scones you sent over this morning saved my bridge club."
Hannah smiled, tugging Jake to a stop. "The raspberry ones? I tried a new recipe."
"Perfect, as always." Mrs. Wilson's sharp eyes moved to Jake. "You're a lucky man, Jake Cooper. Half the boys in town tried to catch our Hannah's eye before you showed up."
Jake's fingers twitched against Hannah's. "I know."
Something in his voice made her chest tight.
They'd only gone a few steps when Billy, the teenager who helped stock at Morton's Grocery, jogged over with a paper bag. "Mom wanted me to catch you before you closed up. She said these bananas were too old to sell, but would be perfect for you."
"Billy, you're a gem." Hannah took the bag, breathing in the sweet scent.
Three more stops, three more conversations. Mrs. Harrison from the pharmacy asking about her father's restoration projects. Old Joe Murphy telling Jake about a loose shutter at the senior center that needed fixing. Mina Davis making her promise to help with next month's founder's day celebration.
Through it all, Jake stood beside her, his fingers laced with hers, grounding her in that steady, familiar way.
"You're quiet tonight," she said as they approached the bakery. The old brick building rose above them, warm light spilling from her apartment windows. Home.
"Just thinking." Jake's thumb traced circles on her palm, but he wouldn't quite meet her eyes.
"About?"
"Nothing important."
Hannah stopped at her door, turning to face him. The light from the bakery's window cast shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw. He towered over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the world. Making her feel safe, protected. Like nothing could touch her as long as he was there.
"Jake—"
He kissed her before she could finish. Hard. Deep. Desperate. His large frame pressed her back against the door, one hand cupping her face while the other gripped her hip. Like he was trying to memorize the feel of her skin. Like he was trying to say something his lips couldn't form.
They barely made it up the narrow staircase between the bakery and her apartment before Jake pressed her against the wall, his body caging hers in, his breath ragged against her skin.
Hannah gasped, heart hammering, her fingers tangling in his shirt as he braced a hand against the worn wooden railing beside her.
"Jake," she murmured against his lips, her hands slipping into his hair. He kissed her harder in response, his breath ragged, his body flush against hers like he could somehow fuse them together, like he could brand her into his memory.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with something she couldn't name.
