Page 74 of Suddenly Yours

And I wasn’t done protecting what was mine.

Chapter Twenty

Missy

It had been a few days since the bakery had been torn apart, but you wouldn’t know it by looking around now.

Sweet Expectations was alive.

Alive in a way that felt louder than usual, busier, warmer, and fuller. The bell over the door had barely stopped ringing since that first morning after the mess.

Not only had all the townspeople come out to support the shop after rumors of what had happened spread, but graduation season had hit Silver Cove like a tidal wave. Somehow my little bakery had become the unofficial headquarters for every proud parent, aunt, uncle, and grandparent within twenty miles.

Cakes.

Cupcakes.

Cookie platters.

Sheet cakes with school colors.

Tiered desserts with gold accents and school mascots and “Class of 2025” piped in perfect cursive.

Meredith and I had barely come up for air.

As always, she moved through the kitchen on a mission, clipboard in hand, oven timers memorized down to the second. Watching her work reminded me why I’d hired her in the first place. She was steady, capable, and utterly unflappable.

Still, even Meredith and I had limits.

That was how Evan Price came into the picture.

Evan was a culinary student home for the summer and the son of one of Meredith’s best friends. He was in his mid-twenties, tall and lanky with sandy-blond hair that constantly fell into his eyes and a shy smile that appeared whenever he concentrated too hard. He specialized in bread and pastries, had hands dusted in flour more often than not, and worked with a quiet efficiency that balanced Meredith’s intensity perfectly.

“Best decision you’ve made all week,” Meredith muttered as Evan slid three perfect trays of cupcakes onto the cooling rack.

Despite the exhaustion, despite the long hours and aching feet, I felt… proud. Grounded. Happy. Like this chaos, this work, was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Levi, thankfully, seemed to have vanished.

The quiet from that direction was a relief but also unsettling, like the calm after a storm when you aren’t quite sure if it is truly over. Cade had installed cameras everywhere—inside, outside, angles I wouldn’t have even thought of—and knowing they were there helped me breathe easier.

He installed an app on his phone and mine so we could watch all the properties, even the house now. At any time during the day, I knew exactly who was coming and going.

We had been woken up by a few alley cats going through our trash one night, so I had set out water, food, and a shelter for them. Somehow, videos of the cats were all anyone wanted to see, so Ashley was posting the best of them on the bakery’s social media. She’d even held a contest for naming them. The three regulars were now named Flour, Sugar, and Muffin.

Flour was the ringleader and was solid gray with a torn ear and a stare that said he’d seen things. Sugar was white with faint orange patches and the sweetest temperament, rubbing against anyone’s ankles like she belonged to them. Muffin was smaller, darker, and skittish, always hanging back until she was sure it was safe. I pretended not to love them, but I absolutely did. I checked on them every night before locking up, making sure their little shelter was dry and the food bowls were full.

I had even had the local vet catch them and update them on shots, spay and neuter them, and give them each a full checkup. They all passed with flying colors. I was surprised when customers started to donate to help pay for their vet bills.

This town really did come out and support one another. I was going to have to make sure that I started being more involved and donate to worthy causes around town when I could.

Life had found a strange rhythm again. My father, though, hadn’t gotten the message to leave well enough alone.

He had taken to calling me at least once every day. At first, I would answer and listen to him complain about the divorce and hear about how I had done Levi wrong. Now I had started ignoring his calls.

As my phone buzzed for the third time that afternoon, I looked down at the screen, which lit up with an image of my dad on the golf course the last time we’d gone together when I’d been sixteen. I flipped it face down on the counter without answering or listening to the voicemail. I didn’t need to. I already knew the script.

Talk to your mother.