“I work there,” I reply, which is the emotional equivalent of saying I just happen to be standing in a burning building for professional reasons.
Karl makes a soft, theatrical sound of disbelief.
I sigh. “Fine. I care.”
About the bar.
About the way it hums when it’s full.
About the way Finn jokes until it’s serious and then doesn’t.
About the way Zane goes quiet in a way that could well be a storm pulling tight.
About the way Ryder refuses to give men like Benjamin anything to use.
I care.
I know I shouldn’t, because it feels dangerously close to putting down roots, but I do.
Olivia leans back, one hand still resting protectively over her stomach.
“You know,” she says lightly, “I didn’t plan to stay here either. When I first came to Coyote Glen.”
I blink. “You didn’t?”
She laughs. “Oh, no. I came for a vacation. Two weeks of fresh air. A reset after a career blowup. Then it turned into a coffee truck trial run.”
Karl snorts. “Trial run…”
She nudges him with her foot. “I was not planning to anchor myself to three men and a mortgage.”
“Four,” Leo mutters. “You forgot Jacob.”
She smiles at him in a way that softens his entire face.
“I met them,” she continues, gesturing lazily to the men around her, “and suddenly Coyote Glen didn’t feel like a stop on a map anymore.”
“How did it feel?” I ask, trying to sound casual and failing.
She looks at me for a long moment.
“Like a place I could build something,” she says simply.
Build.
That word slides into my chest and settles there.
I came here to scatter ashes, to close a chapter, to leave, to continue finding myself.
“I was supposed to come here, do the thing, and go,” I admit. “Instead I keep… expanding.”
Karl brightens. “Emotionally?”
“Yes,” I say pointedly. “Emotionally. Focus.”
Jesse leans forward slightly. “You don’t look like someone passing through.”
“I absolutely am,” I insist automatically, which is exactly what someone who is not absolutely passing through would say.
