There was something primal about him. Not in a threatening way. It was more protective.
Yes. That was it. Matt Thornberg was a man who would provide for and protect those people he cared about.
And she wanted to be one ofthosepeople.
“A small glass of wine, huh?” Rachel’s teasing tone broke through her thoughts.
“Yes.” Tessa didn’t offer any more details as Matt’s shape emerged from her pencil without conscious intention. The set of his shoulders as he leaned forward to explain the different herbs.The tilt of his head as he listened to her talk about her work. The quiet presence that somehow filled a space without dominating it.
“You must have made an impression,” Rachel said lightly. “Because I have never been offered a glass of wine after my shift.”
Tessa shrugged and looked up at Rachel. “I guess Matt was just grateful I was covering for you since it was so busy at the restaurant.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “So it was Matt. I knew it!”
She was doomed. Rachel would never let this go now, so Tessa decided to come clean.
“Okay. It was nice. And, yes, I’m attracted to him,” Tessa finally admitted in a low voice, the words coming out almost annoyed, as if she were confessing to something foolish. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m only here temporarily, and the last thing you need is workplace drama if things go sideways.”
“Oh, no.” Rachel shook her head. “Don’t use me as an excuse.”
Tessa looked up, her pencil going still. “What?”
“Don’t use me as an excuse,” Rachel repeated, her eyes kind but direct. “Or the girls, or your work, or any of the dozen perfectly reasonable-sounding reasons you’re probably lining up in your head right now.”
“I’m not…” Tessa began, then stopped. Because wasn’t that exactly what she’d been doing? Constructing a careful wall of practical concerns to shield herself from the terrifying possibility of wanting something…someone…for herself?
“You’ve been putting your life on hold for long enough, Tess,” Rachel continued, her teasing tone gone. “Now it’s time to put yourself first.”
The words landed with the force of absolute truth, leaving Tessa momentarily speechless. Her throat tightened.
“If it feels right,” Rachel said, “ifhefeels right... You should go for it. Not recklessly. Not to chase some fantasy. But because you deserve to live your own life now.”
“It’s not that simple,” Tessa managed, her voice barely above a whisper. “The timing is all wrong. I’m still processing Mom’s death. My life isn’t in Bear Creek. Everything about this…” she gestured vaguely, encompassing the house, the town, Matt, everything “…is temporary.”
But even as the words left her mouth, she recognized them for the shields they were. The real truth bubbled up from somewhere deeper, spilling out before she could stop it.
“I don’t think I could bear to love someone and lose them,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. “Not yet. I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
There it was, the wound at the center of everything, exposed to the air. Grief had hollowed her out, leaving her afraid to fill the space with anything that might be taken away again.
Rachel didn’t promise that it wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t tell Tessa it would all be okay. She simply nodded, understanding in her eyes. “You don’t have to choose ‘all in’ tonight, Tess,” she said after a moment. “You just have to stop choosing ‘nothing’ by default.”
The simple wisdom of it struck Tessa, resonating through her entire body.Stop choosing nothing by default. Was that what she’d been doing? Creating a life defined by its absences rather than its potential?
“I’ll try,” Tessa whispered.
“And you know I am here for you,” Rachel said. And this was a promise. One, Tessa knew her best friend would keep.
“I know,” Tessa said as she choked back tears.
“Now, I am going to watch TV while you focus on that sketch.” Rachel turned her attention back to the TV, some reality show or other, while Tessa stared at her sketch.
Rachel was right, somewhere along the road her life had taken, Tessa had chosen the safe option. The path of least resistance. No risk meant no loss. It had been so much easier to pour all of her energy into taking care of others—first her mother, now Rachel and the girls—than to face the terrifying prospect of wanting something for herself.
But Matt had reached past those defenses and touched something inside her that had been dormant for too long. Had made something in her heart stir in a way it hadn’t for a long time. Maybe ever.
The courtyard had been magical, not just because of its beauty, but because of how Matt had shared it with her. The way he’d watched her sketch. How he delicately pinched sprigs of rosemary for her to smell. The obvious love in his voice when he spoke about his mother’s birthday gift.
