He leaves with a nod and a tip that’s too generous.
The next wave of customers comes through, voices filling the space, chairs scraping the floor. I’m halfway through wiping down a table when the door opens again.
And there he is.
Shepard Hale.
He’s taller than I remember, shoulders filling out the doorway, dressed in a dark polo and a gray coat that fits like it was made for him. His green eyes catch the morning light, bright and clear. My stomach does that small, traitorous twist it always does before I remind myself to stop.
It’s been six weeks since the library was damaged. Since late nights sorting donations together, his laugh too close, the quiet that followed when I realized I’d been reading something into his smiles that wasn’t there.
He walks toward the counter, nods at Liam, then sees me. That same polite warmth touches his face. “Hey, Millie. Didn’t know you were working here now.”
“Yeah,” I manage.
He leans against the counter, casually. “We’re looking for funding to rework the library,” he says. “I thought you might want to know. Maybe you could come by sometime, see the plans.”
“That’s great,” I say, forcing a smile.
He hesitates, eyes softening. “I miss you.”
The words land too gently, like he doesn’t realize how heavy they are. I hate the way my chest tightens, the way memory stirs like something waking.
“I miss you too. I’ll come by as soon as I can,” I say, glancing past him.
He nods, and I can feel the shift—the one that always happens when people mean well but don’t meanenough.
I’ve had a crush on the library director since way before he even met his current girlfriend. She came into town to work on murals around the town, a part of the beautification project, now all turned to ash.
There have been rumors around town that her exes were responsible for the fires, but that has never been confirmed.
Speak of the devil…
Sadie appears at the door then, all pink hair and paint-splattered jeans even under her coat, her hand linked loosely with Boone’s. Captain Gabe Ashford follows behind, talking to her about something to do with the fire department’s next inspection. They look happy. Complicated, but happy.
Shepard chats with his pack members, orders two hot chocolates and a coffee, thanks Liam, and turns back to me. “Take care, Millie.”
I nod. That’s all I can manage.
When the bell jingles behind him, it’s like the air goes still for a moment. I stare at the empty spot where he’d been standing, and the ridiculous part of me—the one that still remembers the smell of dust and old books—aches.
Six weeks ago, I was shelving paperbacks in the quiet of the library. Now my whole world is made of steam and chatter and the clang of the register.
I catch Liam watching me. “What?” I ask, trying to sound lighter than I feel.
“Nothing,” he says, focusing on the register, but his mouth twitches.
The morning blurs into noise and motion. The music changes, Jessica tells a story about a raccoon stealing someone’s picnic, Maren scolds Liam for eating half a croissant before lunch. By the time the clock nears eleven, the lull between rushes finally arrives.
That’s when Maddox walks in.
The bell rings and I know it’s him before I look up—something about the quiet shift in the air. He’s in his navy work shirt, sleeves rolled up, forearm scar visible against the tan skin. His scent hits first, rain and pine, familiar and electric. His hair’s shaved close now, and his eyes—steel-blue, sharp—are shadowed with exhaustion.
“Hey,” he says, voice low.
“Hey yourself,” I reply, smiling despite the heaviness in him.
He orders a black coffee, no sugar, then leans on the counter to talk with Liam about some new video game they’re obsessed with. The two of them fall into quick banter—names, levels, missions. I half-listen, cleaning tables, my mind drifting.
