Nodding, I blink back the tears threatening to spill over. Talking about kids always makes me emotional, and my feelings are only amplified by knowing how much Greg shares my dreams. They areourdreams. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Cam. Always.”
We sit there for a long moment, hands clasped. I’m so lucky to have this man in my life. We’ve been through some really tough times, but we’ve done it together. Now the future stretches out ahead, and with Greg by my side, I’m ready for anything life throws our way.
“Well,” I say eventually, “I’d better get moving.”
I drain the last of my coffee then push up from my seat and reach for my plate.
“Leave it,” Greg says. “I’ll take care of it. You’ll have enough tables to clear today.”
“So true.” I laugh and do as he says. With a quick kiss and a promise to text later in the day, I leave him at the table and step out into the crisp October morning.
Collier’s Creek is just starting to come alive as I make my way down the sidewalk. The sun peeks through the branches of the towering maples that line the street, casting dappled shadows across the pavement. The air is cool, carrying the faintest hint of wood smoke. Leaves crunch beneath my feet as I make my way down the block.
I round the corner onto Main Street and toward the town square. Mrs. Anderson is out sweeping the front step of her craft and fabric shop, her gray hair pulled back in a tidy bun. She waves as I pass, her face creasing into a grin.
“Morning, Cameron!” she calls. “Off to work?”
“Yep,” I reply, returning her wave. “Can’t keep Collier’s Creek running without its caffeine fix.”
She chuckles, shaking her head. “Ain’t that the truth. You give my best to that husband of yours, you hear? Tell him I’ll make an appointment for next week.”
Greg’s a financial planner and has clients all over town.
“Will do, Mrs. A,” I say. “See you later.”
I continue on, passing the hardware store and the preschool, nodding to the folks I know. I cross the road outside thegeneral store, just in time to see Logan Nichols darting into the bookstore, Ellis Books, with a takeout cup in hand. I’m sorry I’ve missed seeing him for his regular morning coffee.
It hits me, as it often does, just how much I love this place. This quirky close-knit town where everyone knows your name and your business. Where people look out for each other, celebrate each other’s joys and rally around in times of sorrow. God knows, we’ve needed a lot of support over recent years what with all the shit that’s gone down—first with Greg’s accident, and then Mom’s MS.
Collier’s Creek is where Greg and I have built our life together. Where we’ve poured our hearts into building our businesses and making a home and a future. And now, with the promise of parenthood on the horizon, I feel that sense of belonging even more. I want to raise our child here, among these tree-lined streets and friendly faces. I want them to know the warmth of a community that cares, the security of roots that run deep.
The front of CC’s comes into view as I step up the curb, and my heart gives a leap of pleasure. This is more than just my livelihood—it’s an extension of everything I hold dear. A place where people come to connect, to share their lives over steaming mugs and fresh-baked pastries.
The bell chimes as I step inside, the rich scent of coffee grounds and pastries immediately enveloping me. Most of the tables are full and the hum of conversation fills the room.
“Morning, Cam,” Will calls from behind the front counter. His dark hair is messy, there’s a tea towel slung over his shoulder, and he’s making yet another coffee. Somehow he’s still smiling after what has no doubt been a busy morning.
“Hey there.” I grin back, grabbing my apron from the hook on the wall and putting it on. “Thanks for coming in to open up. How’s the morning been?”
“Just picking up now,” Will says, passing the cups of espresso he’s just made to the server, Josh. “I hope you enjoyed your sleep-in and are ready for the morning rush.”
“Always,” I reply. “Where do you want me? Register and food duty, or on the machine?”
“I’ve got this,” Will replies, indicating the machine. “Although I haven’t had time to plate up all the pastries yet.”
Will’s been with me for a while now and has become an integral part of the CC’s family. His charm has endeared him to our regulars, and I couldn’t be more grateful for his presence. He usually works school hours so he can be home with his son, Maverick, but now he’s got Colton, he comes in early every now and then so I can enjoy the morning spent with Greg. Josh is also a godsend, as is his mom, Donna, who is a baker extraordinaire, and comes in each day in the early hours before the coffee shop opens.
I get to work setting up the pastry case while Will brews coffee, and Josh clears tables. The bell tinkles. I look up and see Mrs. Walsh, one of our regulars, pushing open the door, her large purse over her arm.
“Good morning, Mrs. Walsh.” I’m already preparing her usual order—a large Earl Grey tea and a blueberry muffin. “How are you today?”
“Oh, can’t complain, dear,” she replies. “Just here for my daily dose of caffeine and gossip.”
I chuckle, handing over her muffin then adding a splash of milk to the tea. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. I’m sure Will’s got all the latest news from the town council meeting last night.”
As Mrs. Walsh, tea in hand, chats to Will about something Mayor Hobart said, more customers trickle in. I lose myself in the familiar rhythm of serving customers—taking orders,prepping simple food, ensuring the place is running like a well-oiled machine. Will passes across a takeout cup.
