“You’re trouble,” I muttered.
“You like trouble.”
Maybe I did. When it came with a heartbeat like his. I kissed him again, slower this time. Savoring. And when I finally pulled back, James’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes shining.
“I wasn’t expecting you today,” he whispered.
“Neither was I.”
“But I’m glad you came.”
Me too. Not that I’d say it out loud.
Instead, I grunted and tugged at the front of his apron. “Eat something real before I drag you to Bear and Bun and make Sean force-feed you soup.”
James grinned. “Yes, sir.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”
Inside, I was already thinking of when I could come back. The door chimed just as I was about to head out. A customer had entered. It was some guy I didn’t recognize, at first anyway.
He was tall, lanky, with a receding hairline and a permanent scowl. He held a to-go coffee in one hand and looked around the shop with an expression like it smelled bad in here.
James greeted him cheerfully, but the guy didn’t even respond. His eyes landed on me and narrowed. I felt it in my gut. Recognition. The kind that never meant anything good.
“Hell,” the guy muttered. “I knew it. You’re from Ironfalls, aren’t you? Rafael Kingsley.”
I stilled. James looked between us, brows furrowing.
"Excuse me?" I said flatly.
The man stepped closer, voice rising. "My brother still walks with a limp because of you. You remember that? Or do all the people you hurt blur together?"
Every cell in my body went cold. The café quieted. James froze.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I said, though my throat was dry.
I remembered too well. A bar fight. Hot blood. My bear too close to the surface. The guy had grabbed me, and I’d snapped his arm clean.
"You hurt him because he looked at you wrong," the man hissed. "And now you're pretending to be some cozy baker in Sugarpaw Springs? How the hell did someone like you end up in a place like this?"
The moment felt brittle. Like one more word and I’d shatter.
James stepped forward. Calm. Friendly. Too damn good for this world.
“Sir, I’m really sorry you feel that way. Tell you what, why don’t you take a free pie on the house? We’ve got a fresh peach bourbon crumble that just came out of the oven.”
The guy sputtered, caught off-guard. “I—well—fine.” He grabbed the box James handed him and stormed out without another glance.
The silence left behind was worse than any shouting.
James turned to me slowly. “So… was he telling the truth?”
I wanted to lie. God, I wanted to lie. But James’s eyes weren’t judgmental. Just curious. Careful.
I looked away. “It was a long time ago.”
James didn’t speak right away.
