“Okay,” I agree.
We walk back toward Main Street, and Ruby keeps up a steady stream of commentary about the town. The bakery that opens at 5:00 a.m. The bookstore that her friend runs. The general store that’s been owned by the same family for three generations. It’s comfortable, this narration, and I let it wash over me like white noise.
Then I see him.
He’s walking on the opposite side of the street, tall enough that he stands out even in a crowd. His black hair is cut short on the sides and longer on top, and he has the kind of build that comes from actual physical work rather than gym memberships—broad shoulders, defined arms visible even through his black t-shirt.
But it’s his face that makes my breath stutter. Strong jaw, straight nose, and when he turns his head to look at me, I catch a glimpse of blue eyes that even from this distance seem to hold an unsettling amount of focus.
He moves like someone who’s never questioned his right to take up space, confident without arrogance, purposeful without rushing.
“See something interesting?” Ruby’s voice holds amusement.
Heat scorches my cheeks. “No. I mean—who’s that?”
“That’s Connor Langley. Security for the town.” Ruby watches me watch him, and her smile grows. “Want me to introduce you?”
“What? No. I was just—”
“Connor!” Ruby calls out, waving him over.
I want to sink through the sidewalk. Of course, she’d call him over. Of course, I’d be standing here looking like I’ve been living out of my car for three days, because I have been, while this man who looks like he walked out of some kind of outdoor sports catalogue crosses the street toward us.
Up close, he’s worse. Better? Worse.
Those blue eyes lock onto mine, and I forget how to breathe properly. There’s a small scar cutting through his left eyebrow, and I have the irrational urge to ask how he got it. His jaw is dusted with stubble that probably looked perfect this morning but now, late afternoon, has grown into something that would feel rough under my palm.
Not that I’m thinking about touching him. Absolutely not.
“Ruby,” he greets her, and his voice is deeper than I expected. Then his gaze drifts back to me, and I feel like I’m standing too close to a fire. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Fern Ramos. Her car broke down just outside town, and she’s a therapist—possibly our new therapist if the medical center has any sense. Fern, this is Connor Langley.”
“Hi,” I manage, and immediately want to kick myself. Hi? That’s what I’m going with?
Connor’s mouth curves into the most devastating smile I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Car trouble? Where’d you break down?”
“About two miles out. Near the town sign.”
“I’ll have it towed to Joe’s Garage.” He pulls out his phone, already typing something. “You staying at the inn?”
“I… haven’t gotten that far yet.”
He looks up from his phone, really looks at me this time, and I see the moment something changes in his expression. I probably look as desperate as I feel.
“Ruby’s taking good care of you?” he asks.
“She’s trying,” Ruby answers for me. “I was about to feed her before she collapsed.”
Connor pockets his phone. “Good. Joe says he can look at the car this evening, but parts might take a few days if it’s serious. I’ll let you know.”
A few days. The words should panic me, but instead, I feel something loosen in my chest. A few days means I can rest. It means I can figure out my next move and maybe catch my breath.
“Thank you,” I reply. “I appreciate it.”
Connor nods, and his eyes linger on mine for a beat longer than necessary. “Welcome to Silvercreek, Fern.”
He walks away, and I watch him go because apparently, I’ve lost all sense of self-preservation. Ruby makes a knowing sound beside me.
