Through the window, I can see him talking to someone, all broad shoulders and purposeful stride. He looks up, catchesme watching, and something electric passes between us before Emma clears her throat.
"Lord, you two could be a Hallmark movie." She leans forward, dropping her voice. "Listen, I know you probably have your reasons for coming here. Everyone does. But whatever they are? Don't let them stop you from something real."
"I barely know him."
"But you want to."
The bell over the door chimes before I can respond. Dean fills the doorway, and my heart does that stupid flutter thing again.
"Ready?" His voice is gruff, but his eyes are soft when they meet mine.
"Almost." Emma stands, smoothing her dress. "Just need to give her the grand tour. You can go back to your mountain."
Something flashes across his face. "I'll wait."
"Suit yourself." Emma grabs my hand. "Come on, future bestseller supplier. Let me show you your new kingdom."
I follow her through the connecting door, trying not to feel Dean's gaze like a physical touch. The bookstore is dark, dusty, and perfect. Shelves climb to the ceiling, wooden floors creak invitingly, and a spiral staircase leads to a second floor that makes my bibliophile heart skip.
"Previous owner was my great-aunt," Emma explains, flipping switches. Light floods the space, catching dust motes like fairy dust. "She'd be happy knowing it's going to someone who'll love it."
"I do." The words come out reverent. This is it. My fresh start. My escape. My chance to build something that's purely mine. "I really do."
"Good." She hands me a ring of keys, old brass warm against my palm. "Because Wylde Mountain needs more people who believe in magic."
"Even if they come with scandal attached?"
Her smile turns fierce. "Honey, especially then."
Back in the coffee shop, Dean's waiting exactly where we left him. Emma gives him a look I can't decipher, then pulls me into a crushing hug.
"Welcome home," she whispers. "Try not to break him. He's one of our favorite grumpy locals."
I watch her sashay away, wondering what I've gotten myself into. Small town life. A dusty bookstore. A coffee shop owner who sees too much.
And Dean McKnight, still watching me like I'm a puzzle he can't solve.
"Need a ride back to the cabin?" he asks quietly. "To get your things?"
Yes. No. Maybe. Everything in me wants to run. Everything in me wants to stay.
"Please. I just want to take a quick look at my apartment first."
His smile is small but real. Like a secret. Like a promise.
Emma's already unlocking the side door that leads to the upstairs apartment when we hear it. The steady drip-drip-drip of water hitting wood.
"Oh no." She freezes halfway up the stairs. "No, no, no."
Water trickles down the steps like tears. My heart sinks as we follow the sound to its source – a burst pipe in the bathroom, spraying an impressive arc across what should have been my new bedroom.
"Ice storm." Dean's voice is grim behind me. "Pipes weren't winterized."
"I'll call Jake." Emma's already on her phone. "This is probably happening all over town. The freeze hit fast this time."
I stand in the doorway, watching my fresh start dissolve into a puddle at my feet. Three months of planning. All my savings. My escape route, currently drowning in Montana winter.
"How long?" I manage to ask. "To fix it?"
