“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, shaking his head as he headed inside.
The bell over the door chimed as he entered Irma Brew. The shop was moderately busy, with a few people working on laptops, some retirees chatting over coffee, and a young mom with a stroller talking with another woman. The space was warm and welcoming, with exposed brick walls, mismatched furniture that somehow worked, and the rich smell of fresh-brewed coffee.
And there was Brooke.
She stood behind the counter, laughing at something a customer had said. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore jeans with an Irma Brew T-shirt. No makeup that Tyler could see, just natural beauty and genuine warmth as she handed over a latte with a smile.
This was her world, her element. And she was magnificent in it.
She looked up and saw him. Something flickered across her face—surprise, maybe wariness, but also something else. Something that looked like relief.
“Tyler.” His name on her lips did things to him that he wasn’t prepared for. “Hi.”
“Hi, I was hoping we could talk.”
Brooke glanced around the shop, assessing the crowd. “Give me a minute. Becky?” She called to the woman working the espresso machine. “Can you cover the counter?”
“Sure thing.”
Brooke came around from behind the counter and gestured toward a quiet corner table. Tyler followed, acutely aware of the eyes tracking their movements. Small towns meant everyone saw everything.
They sat across from each other, and for a moment, neither spoke.
“How are you?” Tyler finally asked. “After everything?”
“I’m okay. Still processing, I guess.” Brooke’s eyes searched his face. “What about you?”
“Same.”
“I read about what happened,” she said quietly. “The fire. Your wife and son.”
Tyler forced himself to hold her gaze. “What did you read?”
“Everything I could find. The articles, the investigation, the questions people raised.” She paused. “My brother Phil knew you. He said you were innocent.”
“Your brother’s a good man. Always was.”
“He said you loved your family. That there was no way you’d hurt them.”
“He’s right.” Tyler kept his voice level despite the emotion churning underneath. “I loved them more than anything. Losing them destroyed me. The fact that people thought I might have...” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“I don’t think you did it,” Brooke said, and the simple certainty in her voice made something crack open in Tyler’s chest. “I wanted you to know that. Despite everything that Deputy Boverman said, despite his suggestions, I believe you.”
Tyler stared at her, hardly daring to hope he’d heard correctly. “You do?”
“My brother’s instincts are usually good. And something about the way you looked when the deputy was talking...that wasn’t guilt I saw. It was grief.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of her trust settling between them. He wanted to cheer, to cry out in relief, to tell everyone in the building he might just have achance with the beautiful Brooke Davies. “Thank you. You have no idea what that means.”
Brooke’s smile was small but genuine. “I think I do. I was going to come talk to you the other day, but I got sidetracked. I’m glad you came to me.”
The conversation shifted then, becoming easier. They talked about the shop, about Tyler’s work at the garage, about nothing and everything. She told him about opening Irma Brew five years ago, about the challenges of small business ownership, how she’d borrowed from far too many people to make her dream a reality, and about the regulars who had become like family.
Tyler found himself relaxing in a way he hadn’t in years. Brooke was easy to talk to, quick to laugh, and genuinely interested in what he had to say. What he’d felt on the mountain was still there, stronger now without the trauma overshadowing it.
“So, you really don’t remember me from high school?” Tyler asked.
Brooke’s expression turned sheepish. “When we were on the mountain, I didn’t recognize you at all. Phil said I should remember you. You used to come over to our place. Then I saw the older pictures...” She stopped talking, looking like she thought she may have said something wrong.
