The drive down takes twenty minutes. Snow covers everything. The town’s already awake, with trucks parked at the hardware store, smoke curling from chimneys, people bundled in coats moving between shops.
I park in front of the Waffle Den and come around to open her door. She takes my offered hand, and I don’t let go when her boots hit the pavement. I lace our fingers together and guide her toward the entrance, my palm solid against hers.
The bell chimes as we enter. Heat and the smell of coffee and bacon hit immediately. The place is packed with the breakfast rush in full swing. Mabel stands behind the counter pouring coffee, and her eyes track to us the moment we walk through the door.
“Hello there,” she calls out. “Look who finally came down from the mountain.”
Every head in the diner turns. Tilly tenses beside me, her fingers tightening around mine. I stroke her knuckles and guide her to a booth near the back. I slide in beside her instead of across, my thigh pressing against hers, my arm going across the back of the seat behind her shoulders.
Mabel appears with two mugs and a coffee pot. “Storm treat you two okay?”
“Fine,” I say. “Roads just cleared this morning.”
“Mm-hmm.” Her smile is knowing. “I’ll bet they did. What can I get you?”
“Two breakfast specials. Extra bacon on hers.” I glance at Tilly. “And a waffle. Heart-shaped if you’ve got them.”
Tilly’s eyes widen slightly, but Mabel just grins. “Coming right up.”
She disappears, and Tilly turns to me. “I could’ve ordered for myself.”
“I know. But I also know you’ll order toast and call it enough.” I pour cream into her coffee the way she likes it. “You need real food.”
“Bossy.”
“You love it.” I lean closer, my mouth near her ear. “And you’re going to eat every bite.”
Her breath catches. The flush rising in her cheeks makes pride settle solidly in my bones.
Evelyn Hartwood sweeps through the door with the mayor trailing behind her. She spots us immediately and changes trajectory, heels clicking across the floor.
“Davin. Tilly.” She slides into the booth across from us, and the mayor settles beside her with the resigned expression of a man who’s learned not to argue. “How was the cabin? Cozy, I hope?”
“It was fine,” Tilly says. Her voice is steady, but tension radiates from her shoulders.
“I’m sure it was.” Evelyn’s smile sharpens. “The whole town’s been talking about how you two disappeared during the storm. Very romantic.”
“We got snowed in,” I say, my tone flat. “Not much romance about being stuck.”
“Of course not.” But her eyes say she doesn’t believe a word. “Tilly, how are the shop preparations coming? Big opening in less than two weeks.”
“Good. We’re finalizing the layout today.”
“We?” Evelyn’s gaze flicks between us. “How helpful.”
The bell chimes again. Claire walks through the door, and my jaw tightens. She scans the diner, spots us, and her expression shifts into something calculating. She crosses directly to our booth.
“Davin. Tilly.” She doesn’t wait for an invitation before speaking. “I heard you two have been spending time together. How... nice.”
Tilly’s spine goes rigid beside me. I slide my arm from the back of the booth to her shoulders, my hand settling possessively at the curve of her neck. My thumb strokes the soft skin there, grounding her.
“It is nice,” I say, mocking her. “It’s also inevitable.”
Claire’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Well, Davin, I hope you’re not neglecting your other commitments. The town relies on your craftsmanship. It would be a shame if you got... distracted.”
“I don’t get distracted.” I hold her gaze until she looks away first. “And Tilly’s not a distraction. She’s my priority.”
The words land heavily in the sudden quiet. Conversations around us pause. Mabel freezes mid-pour at the next table.
