“Colorado. My car broke down, so I’m stuck until Chuck can fix it.”
“Well, if anyone can fix it, Chuck can. He’ll treat you right.”
The bell above the door jingled and Aftyn glanced up out of habit. Her heart dropped straight to her stomach. Cole stepped inside, eyes scanning the counter until they landed on her. He looked genuinely surprised. He took the empty stool beside Mr. Barton.
“Cole, how are you, son?”
“Fine, Mr. Barton. You?”
“Just great. You know Miss Aftyn?”
“I do.” Cole looked at her. “How are you settling in?”
“Better than expected. Connie gave me a job and the apartment upstairs.” She smiled.
Cole grinned. “That sounds like Connie. Could you tell Owen I’ll take my usual?”
“You got it.”
She was learning fast that nearly everyone who came through the door ordered their usual, and Owen and Connie knew every single one by heart. All Aftyn had to do was write the customer’s name on the ticket with ‘usual’ beneath it. She had to ask for names since she didn’t know anyone yet, but she rarely had to write down an actual order.
****
Cole couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Aftyn moved through the diner like she’d been doing it for years, ponytail swinging with each turn, laughing at someone’s joke, touching a regular’s arm, somehow keeping every coffee order straight without writing a thing down.
That was Clifton. A place where the vinyl booths had absorbed decades of conversation, where the bell above the door jingled so often the locals had stopped hearing it, where a dusty stranger passing through could find themselves showing family photos before their food arrived.
He’d lived here his whole life, watched Main Street shift from green to orange to white and back again with every season. Things had changed when Becca Stone converted her grandmother’s old colonial on the edge of town into the Clifton Bed and Breakfast. Between that and the Bur Oak Guest Ranch over in Spring City, the three towns of Clifton, Hartland, and Spring City had found a rhythm together. The B&B ran from May through October, the guest ranch March through August, and during those months the sidewalks filled with sunburned tourists and cash registers rang from morning to close.
Bakeries, antique shops, boutiques selling localcrafts. The town had bloomed, and nobody was complaining.
Aftyn set a mug in front of him and poured without being asked, the smell of fresh coffee rising between them. He wrapped his fingers around the handle.
“Thank you.”
“Breakfast will be up in a few minutes.”
“No hurry,” he said, and meant it.
Their eyes met, hers the color of a clear sky, until a gruff voice from across the diner broke it. She carried the carafe to a weather-beaten farmer in overalls and topped off his coffee, laughing at something he said. Cole watched her and couldn’t help smiling.
She came back with his plate, a western omelet flecked with red and green peppers, along with hashbrown potatoes. His stomach growled before she even set it down. She raised an eyebrow.
“Sounds like I’m right on time.”
“To say I’m hungry would be an understatement.”
“Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.” A strand of hair slipped loose from her ponytail as she tucked the order pad into her apron and moved on.
Cole picked up his fork and cut into the omelet. Cheese pulled between the pieces. He took a bite and the groan came out before he could stop it, which made Mr. Barton chuckle beside him.
****
Aftyn turned to the coffee machines and measured out fresh grounds, her mind drifting back to Cole. Those eyes, deep green, the kind of green you’d find in a shaded forest. And that smile. It didn’t just touch his mouth, it took over his whole face, dimples andall. She’d noticed his lashes too, thick and naturally curled, the kind she’d spend good money on mascara trying to fake.
She pushed the thought aside. Even if she weren’t just passing through, she had bigger things to deal with. Finding Avery was the priority. And men in general were not something she was in the market for. Judd had seen to that.
The bell jingled and three more cowboys came through the door.
