Liam moved between tables, refilling coffee mugs with a grin. His hair was still mussed from sleep, and he hadn’t noticed the streak of syrup on his sleeve—or maybe he had and didn’t care.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice catching a little. “She really is.”
The mural stretched across the far wall in soft strokes that showcased a giant, open recipe book painted to look like its pages were fluttering in a breeze. On one side, ingredients spilled from the page: a stick of butter melting into sunrays, flour billowing like clouds over a cozy breakfast scene, sugar cubes sparkling over a corner booth. The margins of the other page were filled with little hand-drawn doodles including a steaming mug, a pie with a missing slice, a half-finished crossword puzzle, a pair of cleats slung over a hook.
Something that represented the diner and my family all too well.
Kira stood and stepped back, wiping her hands on a paint-stained rag as her friends gathered behind her to admire the work. Her eyes scanned every inch like she was trying to memorize it forever.
She caught me watching her and smiled.
I moved around the counter and placed a hand on the small of her back, intending to pull her to the side for a few minutes. As much as I could ramble about the mural all day, one thing bothered me that I needed to talk about. But before I could say a word, the petite redhead standing next to Kira coughed loudly and tilted her head at us with thinly veiled interest.
“Oh, right.” Kira rooted herself in place, and her spine straightened under my palm. We weren’t going anywhere. “Landon, this is Britney. You know Macey, of course.”
Macey gave me a small smile. Britney extended a hand with bright turquoise nails and a look that could size up a room in one blink.
“You’retheLandon,” she said as we shook hands. “The one who disappeared, broke her heart, then swooped back into town with a killer pie recipe.”
I blinked. “Uh, yeah. That’s me. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Her tone was polite, but her eyes scanned me like a TSA agent. “And while I’m happy for the two of you, someone’s got to give you a warning.”
“Brit,” Kira muttered, giving her a shocked look.
“I’m just saying,” Britney said with a shrug. “If you hurt her again, I’ll personally make sure you’re not in a position to come home next time.”
I gave a soft laugh, raising my hands. “Fair enough. I’ve earned that.”
Britney narrowed her eyes, then gave a slight nod ofapproval as if I’d passed some test I didn’t know I was taking. “Good.”
“Hey, Park-ist.” Noah strolled over to us in a leather jacket that looked uncomfortable. He high-fived Kira. “Great job with the mural.” He turned to me. “Good to see you again, man.”
I nodded, still on the fence about my opinion of him. But despite being a bizarrely famous social media star, Noah seemed genuine enough. He hadn’t done anything to make me not trust him.
“Let’s get more coffee,” Britney cut in, already grabbing Macey and Noah by the forearms like she was breaking up a middle school dance. Her gaze landed squarely on me. “Try not to mess anything up while we’re gone.”
Beside me, Kira let out a slow breath.
“Britney’s a little intense,” I murmured.
“She is,” Kira admitted, the corner of her mouth twitching. “But it comes from a good place. She’s protective.”
“I get it. I’d be protective of you, too.”
Her eyes met mine, softening just enough to make my chest ache. Around us, the diner was activated with morning energy. The silverware clinked. Liam hummed off-key near the coffee station. People whispered how much they liked the coffee.
I brushed my thumb lightly against her back. “Hey. Can we talk? Just us. Five minutes.”
“Of course,” she said, then hesitated. “I just wanted to introduce you to Ariadne first. I’m not sure where she went.”
It didn’t take much effort to find the one unfamiliar face in the room. A tall, slender girl with short, curly brown hair sat on a barstool, tapping her fingernails against the counter. A disinterested look sat on her face, though I wasn’t sure if that was because she didn’t care for the diner or for Nathan, the guy I recognized from the bar, taking a seat next to her.
Kira followed my gaze and sighed. “Well, maybe later. What did you want to talk about?”
“I wanted to make sure that I didn’t?—”
“Hey, Kira,” Mom interrupted. A bunch of mismatched paintbrushes and pencils were in her hand.
