She'd said yes.
To a hockey player.
To a date.
She'd only been in Evergreen Cove for six months. Six months of keeping her head down, of building a quiet life in a town where nobody knew her story. Six months of carefully constructed distance from everything she'd left behind; the humiliation, the whispers, the pitying looks. She'd come here to disappear, to start over, to be someone new.
The library job was perfect for that.
The tiny apartment with Mr. Darcy. The weekly sessions with Dr. Reyes that had slowly helped her understand that what happened with her ex, Brad, wasn't her fault, even if she still struggled to believe it most days. And after all that time ofsaying no to everyone, of keeping herself carefully closed off, of swearing she'd never make the same mistakes again, she'd said yes to Ryan 'Mac' MacKenzie.
What was I thinking?
Her hands shook slightly as she reached for the absurdly large bouquet, adjusting the flowers in their makeshift vase. Tulips, daisies, roses in soft pinks and yellows and reds. And sunflowers, lots of them. The arrangement probably cost more than her weekly grocery budget. It was excessive and ridiculous and somehow… very him. The stems were still damp from Sophie's cooler, the petals fresh and soft under her fingertips.
And Mac had been... adorable. There was no other word for it. Cute and nervous and so flustered that Rachel had almost smiled despite her carefully maintained demeanor. His sandy blonde hair had been slightly damp, probably from a post-practice shower, and his green eyes had been wide with panic and hope in equal measure.
"You're beautiful and I wanted to ask you out."
No one had called her beautiful in a long time. Not since—
Rachel shook her head, refusing to go down that path. Not yet. Not while she was still processing what had happened. Not while her heart was still racing and her hands were still trembling and she could still smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the flowers.
"Was that the MacKenzie boy I saw leaving?"
Rachel looked up to find Mrs. Henderson entering and approaching the circulation desk, her arms full of romance novels, her usual Thursday selection. At seventy-three, Mrs. Henderson was the library's most devoted patron, most observant gossip, and had impeccable timing that Rachel sometimes suspected was supernatural.
Rachel forced her expression into neutrality, though she suspected Mrs. Henderson could see right through it. "Yes, Mrs. Henderson. Just dropping off flowers."
"Very large flowers." Mrs. Henderson's eyessparkled with delight as she set down her stack of books with a soft thump. "Quite the bouquet for 'just dropping off.'"
"He's... enthusiastic."
"He asked you out, didn't he?" Mrs. Henderson leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering her voice despite the empty library. "And you said yes! Oh, Rachel, that's wonderful!"
"How did you—"
"Dear, I was in the romance section. Those shelves have excellent acoustics, I've been meaning to mention that to the library board." Mrs. Henderson's smile was slightly mischievous. "I heard everything. That boy is absolutely smitten with you."
Heat crept up her neck, spreading to her cheeks. "He's very... forward."
"He's very sweet." Mrs. Henderson paused. "So why do you look absolutely terrified?"
Rachel's fingers stilled on the flowers. Because twelve months wasn't long enough to forget how badly this could end.
"I just..." Rachel started, then stopped, unsure how much to reveal. Mrs. Henderson didn't know her story. Nobody in Evergreen Cove did, and that was exactly how Rachel wanted to keep it. "Dating is complicated."
"Dating is always complicated, dear. But that doesn't mean it isn't worth doing." Mrs. Henderson tilted her head. "You've been in Evergreen Cove for six months now, and in all that time, I've never seen you say yes to anyone. And believe me, there have been plenty of young men who've tried."
Rachel hadn't realized people had been keeping track. Then again, this was a small town. Of course they'd been keeping track. Or at least Mrs. Henderson had.
"Mac MacKenzie is a good man," Mrs. Henderson continued. "Anyone with eyes can see that. He's been looking at you like you hung the moon for weeks now."
Rachel's breath caught. "He has?"
"Every time he comes in here. Which is often, by the way. For a man who claimed he wanted mystery novels, he certainlyseems to spend a lot of time browsing near the circulation desk. Last week he checked out three Agatha Christies and returned them the next day."
Rachel hadn't realized Mac came inthatregularly. She'd noticed him a few times, hard not to notice him, with his sandy blonde hair and easy smile. But she'd been deliberately not paying attention, keeping herself safely distant from anything that might threaten the walls she'd built around her heart.
