Claire recovers quickly. “How sweet. Though I have to wonder—” She turns to Tilly. “Are you sure this is wise? Opening a vintage shop in Lovesbury? The market’s pretty limited. Wouldn’t want you to invest all that time and money only to fail.”
Tilly starts to pull inward, to shrink, and everything in me goes cold and focused.
“She’s not going to fail.” My voice doesn’t rise, but it cuts through the diner like a blade. “Tilly’s done her research. She’s planned every detail. She’s building something real here, and she’s got the skill and determination to make it work.”
I lean forward slightly, and Claire takes an involuntary step back. “And she’s not doing it alone. She’s got help. She’s got support. She’s got me.”
The claim hangs in the air, absolute and unshakeable.
Claire’s mouth opens, then closes. She forces a smile. “Of course. I’m sure it will be lovely. Good luck with the opening.”
She retreats to a table on the far side of the diner. The conversations resume slowly, quieter now, weighted with certainty.
Evelyn’s eyes gleam with satisfaction. “Well. That was quite the declaration.”
“It was the truth.” I don’t look away from Tilly. Her eyes are bright, her cheeks flushed. “Tilly’s building her dream here. Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me.”
“I don’t think anyone will,” Evelyn says. She slides out of the booth, pulling the mayor with her. “Come along, dear. I think we’ve witnessed enough Valentine’s Day bachelor auction success for one morning.”
They disappear toward the counter, and I turn my full attention to Tilly. Her hand has found my thigh under the table, fingers gripping tightly.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says quietly.
“Yes, I did.” I cup her jaw, tilting her face up. “You’re mine, Tilly. That means when someone questions you, they’re questioning me. And I don’t let that stand.”
“I’m yours?” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“Yeah. You are.” My thumb strokes across her cheekbone. “Have been since the auction. Thought you knew that.”
“I hoped.” Her eyes search mine. “But hearing you say it in front of everyone—”
“Made it real.” I lean closer, my forehead touching hers. “The town knows now. No more questions. No more doubt.”
Mabel appears with our plates, setting them down with a knowing smile. “Enjoy your breakfast, you two. On the house.”
“Mabel—”
“Don’t argue. Consider it a congratulations.” She winks and disappears.
We eat in comfortable silence, the tension from Claire’s appearance fading. Tilly finishes her entire plate, and pride settles deep as she takes care of herself.
By the time we leave, the sun’s climbed higher, warming the air. I guide her to the truck with my hand on her lower back, and I’m acutely aware of eyes tracking us from the diner windows.
“Everyone’s watching,” she murmurs.
“Good. Let them watch.” I open her door and wait until she’s settled before closing it. When I slide into the driver’s seat, her hand finds mine immediately.
We drive to her shop in silence thick with promise. The public claim has shifted things, made the private certainty between us visible to the world. By the time I park in front of her storefront, anticipation hums under my skin.
Inside, the shop is cold and feels empty. I flip the lights on while she sets her bag on the counter. When I turn, she’s watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.
“What?” I ask.
“Thank you.” She crosses to me, her hands sliding up my chest. “For defending me. For claiming me. For making me feel like I matter.”
“You do matter.” I frame her face with my palms. “More than anything.”
She rises on her toes and kisses me. The contact is soft at first, tentative, then deepens into something hungry. My hands slide into her hair, angling her head for better access. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat that sends heat straight to my cock.
