About Jesse’s warmth, the way he laughs with his whole body, how he makes space feel lighter just by standing in it.
Different rhythms. Different anchors.
And somehow, all of them fit.
The realization doesn’t scare me the way it did at first. It settles instead, like honey poured into a jar.
When I leave the café, I tell myself I’m just heading toward Sophie’s to look at the window display. She just got in a new shipment of linen dresses, and I’ve been meaning to replace my old one.
That’s all.
It’s a coincidence that Dakota and her men are walking the same direction.
Total coincidence that I hang half a block behind them, pretending to examine a chalkboard sign outside the bakery while I watch the way Clint leans in to murmur something in Dakota’s ear.
The way Sawyer listens, nodding, eyes bright. The way Reid swings the boutique door open with a flourish and bows dramatically, earning a laugh from all of them.
I do not follow them.
I merely… arrive at Sophie’s Boutique at the same time.
The boutique smells faintly citrusy. Soft music hums from hidden speakers. Racks of clothes line the walls. Flowy dresses, structured jackets, scarves that feel like they could change a mood just by being draped right.
Dakota laughs at something Reid says, tipping her head back, unguarded. Sawyer leans in to murmur something in her ear that makes her smile soften. Clint watches them all, expression calm, a quiet satisfaction there that makes my chest ache in a way I can’t quite name.
They move as a unit without clustering. They drift apart and back together naturally, hands brushing, glances exchanged. Charlie darts between them, clearly secure in the knowledge that all of these adults belong to him.
Sophie pops out from behind the counter, clapping her hands once. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite crew.”
Dakota grins. “We’re being good today.”
Sophie snorts. “Liar.”
I pretend to browse a rack of cardigans I absolutely do not need, my fingers sliding over soft fabric. Dakota catches my eye then.
Her smile flickers into a knowing, gentle expression. She doesn’t call me out. Just gives me a small nod, like she sees me and understands exactly why I’m here.
My phone vibrates in my hand.
The sound is loud in the quiet space, pulling me out of my thoughts so abruptly my heart jumps. I glance down, expecting a market reminder or a supplier email.
Instead, I find a message.
Mara:Hi, Abilene. Thank you for reaching out to me. I want to come to Colter Creek. I want to meet with you.
The words blur.
Mara.
My aunt.
The world tilts, just slightly.
Holy shit.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Jesse
