I silently curse the Whitetail Falls gossip network,again.
"Yes," I admit. "With Savannah."
Nathan returns to his charts, a faint smile playing at his lips. "She's good people. Makes those raspberry things my Gloria loves."
"She also makes those chocolate espresso brownies the Chief pretends he doesn't eat," Bradley adds.
"And the cinnamon rolls that—" Austin starts, but I cut him off.
"Yes, she bakes. For the whole town. I'm aware." I check my watch. "I need to go."
As I grab my jacket, I hear Nathan murmur to Bradley: "He's not faking this time. Look at him."
I pretend not to hear, but the words follow me out the door, settling somewhere beneath my ribs as I climb into my truck and head toward town. Not faking. That's the problem, isn't it?
The Enchanted Bean glows golden in the early evening darkness, a warm beacon against the winter chill. Through the large front windows, I can see Savannah moving around inside, even though the CLOSED sign is already turned, she's still working,wiping down counters with efficient movements, her hair pulled back, sleeves pushed up to her elbows.
My heart does something complicated in my chest, a skip-stutter-rush that makes me pause on the sidewalk, flowers clutched too tightly in my hand.
I bought them at the last minute, nothing fancy or presumptuous, just winter blooms in soft blues and whites that reminded me of morning frost. The kind of flowers that feel like Savannah: understated, beautiful without trying to be.
I tell myself they're just part of the act, a prop for our fake date. The tightness in my stomach calls me a liar.
Taking a deep breath, I knock on the glass door. Savannah looks up, startled, then breaks into a smile that hits me like a physical force. She hurries over, unlocking the door with slightly fumbling fingers.
"Hi," she says, stepping back to let me in. "Sorry, I lost track of time. I'm still finishing up."
"No rush," I tell her, suddenly aware of how small the space feels with both of us in it. "These are for you."
I hold out the flowers, and Savannah's eyes widen. She takes them delicately, as if they might break, a flush spreading across her cheeks.
"They're beautiful," she says softly. "Thank you. You didn't have to—"
"I wanted to," I interrupt, then clear my throat. "For... authenticity."
"Of course," she nods, turning to find a vase. "For the cover story."
She reaches for a container on a high shelf, stretching up on her toes. Her sweater rides up slightly, revealing a strip of skin at her lower back, and I have to force myself to look away. When she turns back, there's a streak of flour on her cheek that she hasn't noticed, and without thinking, I reach out to brush it away with my thumb.
Savannah freezes, her eyes meeting mine. We stand there, suspended in a moment that feels too intimate for the pretense we're maintaining, my hand lingering near her face longer than it should. A measuring cup clatters to the floor, breaking the spell. Savannah jumps, laughing nervously as she bends to retrieve it.
"Sorry, I'm—I knock things over when I'm..." She doesn't finish the thought, busying herself with arranging the flowers instead.
"When you're what?" I ask, genuinely curious.
She glances up, a strand of hair falling across her face. "Nervous, I guess."
"I make you nervous?"
"Not you specifically," she says quickly, then winces. "That came out wrong. I meant… this whole situation. Pretending. I'm not very good at it."
The word 'pretending' lands like a stone in my stomach.
"You're better than you think," I tell her, and mean it more than she realizes.
Twenty minutes later, we're settled at a corner table with mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies Savannah insisted I try. The shop is closed, the lights dimmed except for our corner and the small holiday lights strung along the windows. Outside,snow falls in fat, lazy flakes, coating the street in fresh white. It feels intimate. Real. Nothing like the calculated dates I've been on in recent years.
"So," Savannah says, wrapping her hands around her mug. "Tell me something about Lieutenant Logan Price that the rest of Whitetail Falls doesn't know."
