That had been a bad idea. Crazy, honestly. The whole town would’ve been there. Everyone watching. Talking. Drawing conclusions.
His position in the town mattered. Stability. Reputation. Doing his job well. Not giving people reasons to talk.
He climbed into the cruiser and shut the door harder than necessary.
It wasn’t complicated.
It had been just sex.
Phenomenal, sure—the kind that rewired your expectations—but nothing more than chemistry.
Grace liked him. Liked his body. Liked what he did to her.
This silence? A bluff.
She’d cool off.
Still…
The image of her walking away without looking back kept replaying, sharp and irritating.
Well, Luke could compromise. If she wanted something more public, he could figure something out. Dinner the next town over. Somewhere neutral. Somewhere no one knew their names.
Grace was smart.
She understood why he couldn’t be seen with her.
Not in this town.
CHAPTER 9
Grace
The chime above the Sugar& Spice door jingled as Grace stepped inside, and the scent hit her instantly—warm vanilla, melted butter, cinnamon drifting on the air. It felt like stepping into a hug. A hug she desperately needed.
The bakery was busy. People chatted in line, kids pressed hands against the glass, and Hannah moved behind the counter like she was conducting an orchestra of pastries. The sound, the warmth, the bustle—this was where she wanted to be. Not in Luke’s arms. Not after last night’s ugliness. Here.
Hannah looked up and smiled. “There she is.”
Grace managed a return smile. It felt thin at the edges.
Hannah slid a coffee and a flaky raspberry Danish toward her.
Grace wrapped both hands around the cup, staring down at the steam. “The guy I mentioned before?”
Hannah stilled. “Yeah?”
Grace forced a little laugh. “You were right. He was just looking for a fling. I probably should’ve ended things the first time he didn’t want to be seen in public with me.”
Her family weren’t bad people. They'd just been thoughtless. Petty theft, some vandalism. Nothing that would've been more than a footnote somewhere else. Here it had become the whole story. And Grace had spent her entire childhood trying to write a different one in the margins.
Hannah’s expression hardened. “You deserve someone who shouts from rooftops to be with you,” Hannah said.
Grace stared at her coffee. “Some people don’t like heights, I guess,” she said.
Hannah studied her. “If you need anything—company, distraction, baked solace—just say the word.”
Grace sighed. “Thanks. Really. But I’m good.”
