"Building, sweating over, arguing about." Colby pushed out a chair for her. "Mostly arguing. Have a seat. Tell us everything about yourself so we can properly interrogate Brian later."
"Subtle," Brian said dryly, dropping into the chair beside Tessa.
"I've never been accused of subtlety." Colby leaned back, arms crossed. "So. Chicago, right? What brings a city girl all the way to our little corner of South Carolina?"
Brian watched Tessa's face, wondering if she'd deflect. She'd been private about her reasons for being here, sharing only what she chose to share. He wouldn't blame her for keeping her cards close to her chest with strangers.
But she surprised him.
"I'm a trauma surgeon," she said, her voice steady. "I took a leave of absence. Three months to figure out if I can go back, or if I need to find a different path." She picked up the menu Lila had left on the table, scanning it without really seeing it. "Copper Moon seemed like a good place to do that figuring."
Hank and Colby exchanged a look that Brian couldn't quite read. Then Hank nodded slowly.
"It is," he said. "We came here for a motorcycle race and never left. Sometimes you find a place that fits, and you stop looking for reasons to leave."
"The Copper Moon Cup," Tessa said. "Brian mentioned it."
"Best decision we ever made, entering that race." Colby's grin was easy. "Well, second best. First best was convincing this one to stay." He jerked his thumb at Brian. "He was all set to go back to Missouri. Took some persuading."
"Persuading meaning you wouldn't shut up about it until I agreed," Brian said.
"Whatever works."
Lila appeared with a tray of food: coffee for Brian and Tessa, a slightly steaming lemon bar, and a basket of fresh pastries. She distributed everything with practiced efficiency and disappeared back behind the counter.
Tessa picked up the lemon bar and took a bite. Her eyes closed, and a small sound escaped her that Brian tried very hard not to think about.
"Oh my God," she said. "This is incredible."
"Told you," Hank said. "Lila's a wizard with pastry."
They ordered breakfast and settled into easy conversation. Brian found himself relaxing in a way he hadn't expected, watching Tessa hold her own with his friends. She asked Colby about the mechanics of vintage motorcycle restoration and actually listened to the answer. She laughed at Hank's stories about the race that had brought them all here. She fit into the rhythm of the morning like she'd always been part of it.
"So," Colby said, leaning forward with the look that meant trouble was coming. "Brian's been pretty quiet about how this whole roommate situation is working out. Care to share your perspective?"
"Colby," Brian warned.
"What? It's a legitimate question. You've been living alone for months, and now suddenly you've got a beautiful woman sharing your space. Inquiring minds want to know."
Tessa's cheeks flushed pink, but she didn't look away. "He's been very generous. I showed up expecting an empty rental and found a man in a towel instead. Most people would have called the police. He let me stay."
"A towel?" Hank's eyebrows shot up. "You left that part out, Brian."
"I was in the shower. She walked in using the door code the rental company gave her. It was a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding that led to cohabitation." Colby was enjoying this far too much. "Romantic."
"It's not romantic," Brian said flatly. "It's logistics. The town was booked, she had nowhere to go, and the Calloways would have risen from their retirement in Charleston to haunt me if I'd turned her away."
"Sure." Colby's grin said he didn't believe a word of it. "Logistics."
Hank, mercifully, changed the subject. "Bree wants to have everyone over for dinner this weekend. You're both invited. Sabrina's making her famous shrimp and grits, and Bree's been working on a new painting she wants to show off."
"I don't want to intrude," Tessa said quickly.
"You wouldn't be." Hank's voice was warm. "Any friend of Brian's is family. That's how it works around here."
Brian saw her hesitate, saw the flicker of longing beneath the polite resistance. She was used to being on the outside, he realized. Used to keeping herself separate from the people around her.
