"She also said I needed to get out of my house, stop isolating myself." Bree laughed softly. "I'm not sure she meant come to a racing event, but here I am."
"Here you are," Carmen echoed. "And maybe this is exactly what you need. Not quiet, not isolation, but life. Noise. People doing things they're passionate about. Energy."
Bree thought about that as she finished her omelet. Maybe Carmen was right. Maybe peace didn't have to mean silence. Maybe it could mean being in a place Bryn had loved, surrounded by people who were fully alive, fully engaged in something that mattered to them.
Maybe peace could mean watching a man with careful hands work on a vintage motorcycle, feeling her heart skip for the first time in months, and not feeling guilty about it.
"You know what?" Bree said, setting down her fork. "I think you might be onto something."
Carmen grinned. "I usually am. Now, tell me more about this friend who sent you here without warning you about race week. That seems like something we need to discuss."
Bree laughed, and for the first time since arriving in Copper Moon, felt something in her chest loosen. Not heal, exactly, but shift. Making room for something new alongside the grief.
Hope, maybe.
Or at least, possibility.
They finished breakfast, talking about Blake's questionable planning skills, Carmen's sister's racing team, and the best places in Copper Moon to find actual quiet when you needed it. By the time they paid their bills and stood to leave, Bree felt lighter than she had in months.
She glanced across the room and saw Hank and his friends sitting at a table. Their eyes met, and she smiled. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest when he stood and strolled toward her. She swallowed when he stopped at their table. "Hi."
"I think that's my cue," the woman said, standing smoothly. She touched Bree's shoulder as she passed. "I'll be at the counter. Take your time."
Chapter 6
The café smelled like coffee, bacon, and possibility.
Hank pushed through the door with Brian and Colby right behind him, their voices still carrying the energy of the morning's work. They'd spent three hours fine-tuning Julie's engine, adjusting the carburetor until she purred like a contented cat, and now his hands were clean, but his shirt still carried the faint scent of motor oil.
He was hungry, wired on adrenaline, and ready for a meal that didn't come from a vending machine.
"Table by the window," Brian called out, already heading that direction without waiting for consensus.
The café was packed, as it had been every morning since they'd arrived in Copper Moon. Local families mixed with racing teams, everyone drawn to what was apparently the best breakfast spot in town. The walls were covered with vintage photographs of past races, and a glass case near the register displayed trophies from decades of Copper Moon Cups.
Hank followed Brian toward the window table, his mind still half on Julie's performance metrics, when he saw her.
Bree sat two tables over, her blonde hair catching the morning sunlight that streamed through the windows. She was laughing at something the dark-haired woman across from her said, her whole face lit up with genuine amusement, and the sound hit him square in the chest.
He stopped walking.
"Hank?" Colby's voice came from somewhere behind him. "You coming?"
He couldn't move. Couldn't look away. Bree's laughter faded into a soft, warm smile, and she tucked her hair behind her ear in a gesture that seemed unconscious. Natural. The kind of detail a man noticed when he was paying far too much attention.
"Oh, this is good," Brian said, his voice gleeful. "Colby, look at his face."
"I'm looking." Colby moved to stand beside Hank, following his gaze. "That's the woman from yesterday, isn't it? The one he nearly killed?"
"I didn't nearly kill her," Hank corrected automatically. "I swerved just in time."
"Right," Brian drawled. "After you knocked her down."
Hank forced himself to move, to follow them to the table, but his attention kept drifting back to Bree. She wore a light blue sundress today, something simple and feminine that made her look like she belonged in a painting. Her hands moved as she talked, graceful and expressive, and he found himself wondering what she was saying that made her friend smile like that.
"Earth to Hank," Brian said once they were seated. "You want to order, or are you just going to stare at her all morning?"
"I'm not staring."
