Bonnie’s hands stilled as a knowing grin spread across her face. “Oh, breakfast, huh? That’s a good way to start the day. He must’ve gotten up early to driveall the wayfrom his place to here.” She said it like it was a two-hour drive, not a thirty- to forty-minute one.
Heat crawled up her neck, and she realized she shouldn’t have mentioned that. “It wasn’t like that. We’re just friends.” She didn’t mention the dinner the night before... or what had happened after. Some things were better left unspoken in a town where everyone knew everyone.
“Mm-hmm. Well, he’s a good man. I’m glad he’s looking out for you.”
“He’s been great,” she said quietly, meaning it more than she’d intended to as she eyed a shirt before putting it back on the rack. “But we’re not... I mean, it’s not... serious.”
“Yet,” Bonnie said easily, carrying the pile of shorts to a nearby table display. “But don’t sell him short, either. Brian’s the kind of man who keeps things close to the chest. When he cares, he doesn’t make speeches about it—he just shows up. He’s steady that way, even if he acts like he’s not looking for anything serious.”
Tess’s pulse stumbled. She pretended to study a row of silver bangles on a display by the register, her fingers brushing over the cool metal. “I don’t know if I have the time to figure out what this is,” she admitted. “Or if he even wants anything more than... well, more than friendship.”
The older woman snorted softly and walked back behind the counter before leaning on her forearms and catching Tess’s gaze. “Honey, Brian needs a strong woman. Always has. Someone who won’t let him bulldoze through life on sheer stubbornness. Someonesteady enough to keep him grounded and strong enough to call him out on his crap. I may not know you well yet, but I can tell you’ve got that in spades.”
Tess blinked at her, the words sinking in deeper than she wanted them to. Strong. Grounded. Those weren’t words she would have used to describe herself. She’d spent years believing that she’d used up all her strength trying to hold her world together after her parents died. Since becoming Andy’s guardian, it seemed like she was making life up as she went—just trying to keep them both afloat. She’d told herself she didn’t have the time or space to risk her heart again.
But last night wasn’t a mistake, and this morning wasn’t regret. They were both... real. Uncomplicated. Like something she didn’t have to run from.
Bonnie’s expression softened—it was gentler now. “You don’t have to decide what it is yet. Just... don’t talk yourself out of something good before it even starts.”
The bell chimed again as another customer came in, and Bonnie bustled over to greet them, her voice warm and welcoming. Tess drifted further into the boutique, pausing by a rack of sleeveless silk blouses. She let her fingers skim a pale blue one that caught the light just right—easy, breezy, and something that might entice a man. The kind of thing she rarely bought for herself. Before she could think twice about it, she draped it over her arm and moved on.
A display of locally made candles drew her attentionnext—clean glass jars with simple kraft-paper labels. She lifted one, twisted the lid, and breathed in the scent of sea air and sun-warmed driftwood. It smelled like the beach house—peaceful, unburdened, and just what she needed.
By the time Bonnie circled back, Tess had picked up a pair of earrings to go with the top. The simple act of browsing had lifted her spirits again, but it was Bonnie’s words that lingered—the quiet reminder that maybe she didn’t need to second-guess every step with Brian. Time would tell where things went between them. For now, overthinking would only drive her crazy. She’d just go with the flow—and hope that, if it didn’t turn into more, they could still be friends.
She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until the knot in her chest started to ease.
When she placed her items on the counter, Bonnie’s lips curved into a warm, approving smile. “Good choices,” she said, then rang everything up and tucked it neatly into a paper bag before handing it over. “Enjoy your Saturday, Tess. And remember what I said.”
“I will. Thanks, Bonnie.”
With a wave and a promise to stop in again—even if it was just to chat—Tess left the shop, looping the handle of the paper bag over her arm. The late-morning sun pressed down hard, the kind that made asphalt shimmer and coaxed the scent of salt and tar into the air. She stayed within the strip of shade underthe awnings, glancing into the windows of boutiques and cafés as she made her way toward the beach house.
A prickling sensation suddenly crawled across the back of her neck—one she couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was nothing more than the weight of her own thoughts, but she found herself glancing up and down Main Street anyway. People were everywhere, but no one seemed to be paying her any attention. A couple strolled hand in hand past her. A mother helped her two small children select pails and shovels for the beach from an outdoor display. A man with a sunburned nose balanced a box of takeout as he hurried to a waiting SUV. Nothing out of place.
She shifted her grip on her purse and the shopping bag, hugging them a little closer, and drew in a steady breath. It was probably just her imagination, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, and not in a random way.
That was crazy, of course. Summer on the Outer Banks meant more bodies moving in every direction. More noise and traffic. More everything. It didn’t mean anyone was following her.
Needing a distraction, she turned back toward the hardware store. She’d passed it earlier, not wanting to make it seem like she was checking up on Andy while he was working—but right now, she needed to see a familiar face.
Inside, the air was cooler, carrying the mingled scents of metal, machine oil, and rubber. Jinx had beenlying in a dog bed off to the side, out of the way of customers, but when he spotted her, his tail thumped hard against the floor. He stood and bounded over to her, nearly tripping himself in his excitement.
“Hey, handsome,” she murmured, crouching to rub his ears. The unease along her spine loosened, replaced by warmth at the dog’s joyful greeting. Whatever strange sense of being watched she’d felt outside faded into the comfort of an ordinary day again.
The familiar sound of Andy’s laugh drifted through the aisles along with a man’s chuckle that she thought belonged to Dan Malone. With a smile, she headed in their direction.
Chapter 20
Tuesday was already shaping up to be another long one at work. In between two autopsies, Tess had spent the morning scrubbing down the metal examination tables, sterilizing instruments, and taking inventory of supplies. The air carried the sharp bite of bleach and stainless steel, heavy with the faint undercurrent of formalin that never quite went away.
It had been three days since she saw Brian—three days of short calls and even shorter texts, his time swallowed by the new case. She told herself it didn’t bother her, that she understood how police work went. And she did. Mostly.
She peeled off her gloves and dropped them into the bio-hazard bin, flexing her sore fingers. The clock read a few minutes past noon. Lunch. Finally. She hadleftovers in the fridge upstairs—nothing exciting, but she was hungry enough to eat anything.
As she washed her hands, the autopsy suite door swung open. She expected it to be Dr. Hansen, a delivery, or maybe someone dropping off paperwork. Instead, Brian stepped inside, a paper bag in one hand, his expression careful, almost hesitant.
Her pulse gave a ridiculous jump.
