When lunch wrapped up and we headed back to the bakery, the sun was high, the streets alive with weekend chatter.
And as we turned the corner, I saw the small line already forming outside Bear and Bun. Our regulars, chatting and laughing like they belonged there.
Beau’s face lit up the second he saw it. His whole body straightened, his grin wide and open and proud. I couldn’t help but smile too, warmth flooding through me.
We stepped inside, flipped the sign, and moved into the rhythm of the day. Orders, smiles, familiar faces, the scent of cinnamon rolls and espresso filling the air like magic.
I caught myself glancing at the door once or twice, just a flicker of old habit.
That fear of being found, of being chased still lingered in the back of my mind. I remembered that jolt of panic when the doorbell rang this morning.
The thought that maybe Orin had found me.
Silly, I told myself firmly.
Beau was here. The others had my back. I was safe. Besides, things were finally going well. Really well.
And if life had taught me anything, it was that when things started feeling good… that’s when the fall usually came.
But I pushed the thought down. Buried it beneath sugar and steam and the soft hum of contentment that came with belonging.
Because for now? I had a family, and we had a bakery to run.
Chapter 9
Beau
The day started off great.The scent of cinnamon rolls and freshly brewed espresso filled the air.
Leo had put on a playlist full of soft indie rock that made the whole bakery feel like it belonged in one of those cozy little coffee shop montages in a movie.
The usual morning crowd shuffled in. Locals who knew us by name, who ordered their favorites without even needing to speak. Comfort. Routine. I thrived on it.
Sean was already at the counter, apron tied neatly around his waist, his hair still slightly damp from a shower. He looked… radiant. No other word for it.
There was something soft in his eyes, a sort of sleepy sweetness in his smile.
He handed a pastry bag to one of our elderly regulars and laughed when she scolded him for giving her “too much change.”
It made my chest ache in the best way. He’d been here for weeks now, and every day I felt him weaving deeper into the rhythm of the bakery. Into me.
And I was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, I could believe in good things again.
“Beau, stop staring,” Rafael muttered as he passed me with a tray of muffins. “You’re gonna burn a hole through the man.”
“I’m not staring,” I said.
“You’re mooning. It’s embarrassing,” Rafael pointed out.
I grunted, shoving a tray into the oven. But I didn’t deny it. Because it was true. I couldn’t help myself. Something about today felt bright. Easy.
And then he walked in. Sharp shoes. Designer sunglasses indoors. A Bluetooth earpiece in like he was some hotshot stockbroker instead of a guy in a bakery.
The kind of customer who looked around like everything was beneath him. I’d seen his type before. Entitled, dismissive, never kind to service staff.
He cut straight to the counter, ignoring the three people in line ahead of him.
“I need a black coffee. Large. And a plain croissant. Fast,” he said, not even looking Sean in the eye. “I’m late for a meeting.”
