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She paused with the sliding door halfway open. “Look who’s appointed himself Grump Master in Chief.” As if she would ever let a man tell her what to do again. “You worry about those repairs, I’ll worry about me.” She didn’t give him a chance to argue with her. If he wanted to be overbearing, then he could do it on his own time.

Flustered from their encounter, Nicole needed a shower to cool her down before her shift. Attraction that strong wasn’t familiar. She never expected to feel it for a stranger in Maple Lane Falls. She chose this small town to get away from her old life, and she liked the sparse population size most of all.

Small towns made it easy to spot the newcomers. Or danger.

Nicole took her time washing her hair and drying it. The customers at Maple Lane Cafe didn’t care how she wore her hair, but the ritual calmed her. It also reminded her of better days, when she had a reason to style her hair every day. When she first quit her corporate job in Chicago, she’d been tempted to cut it all off. Now that she was settled in her new life, she was glad she didn’t.

Rebuilding her life was hard, but it was working. She was expanding her book of business, signing new clients regularly. Soon, she wouldn’t need to wait tables at all. She’d already cut back her shifts to allow more time to work as an event planner.

Lina greeted her at Maple Lane Cafe when she arrived for the dinner shift. “Hello, honey. How you doing?”

Nicole basked in Lina’s friendliness. The middle-aged waitress treated her with the same kindness as she treated everyone in town, a balm to her soul when she first arrived. Lina saw the dark circles under her eyes and the near-constant glances she made over her shoulder. Lina never asked questions, but was quick with a smile. She’d hired Nicole on the spot when she asked about an opening over pie her first day in town.

“I’m fine, Lina. How are you? How’s the arthritis today?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” Lina shrugged. “Lunch was pretty dead today. I hope dinner picks up for you.” She removed her apron and gathered her purse and sweater.

“I’ll roll silverware and refill salt while I wait for the crowds to arrive. I wouldn’t mind a quiet evening.” Nicole donned her own apron, testing her pen, and added a new order pad. “You know anything about Herbert’s son?”

The question popped out before Nicole considered the wisdom of asking. Lina wasn’t quite the town gossip, but she wasn’t exactly a vault, either.

“So sad about Herbert. He was such a handsome man when he was younger. Would’ve loved to keep him company after his wife died, if you know what I mean.” Lina also wasn’t a prude.

“I’m sure you would’ve been great for him. But did you ever meet his son?”

Lina frowned in thought while she buttoned her sweater. “I met him a few times before Herbert moved to that retirement home in Chicago. Only saw him when he was home on leave. He’s a war hero. Herbert was pleased as punch with his son. Every bit as handsome as his father. Maybe more muscular, but the Army would do that do a fella.”

Nicole was desperate for any useable information, but she didn’t want to tip Lina off that the son was in town. Something deep inside Nicole wanted Damon all to herself, just a little while longer.

“What are you asking about Herbert’s son?”

Damn it, Lina’s interest was piqued now. Nicole hefted a tray of salt shakers. “I better get to work on these. Have a good evening, Lina.”

Lina ignored the hint. “Now that I think about it, Herbert owns your duplex, don’t he? Or I guess he did, and now I bet his son owns it. Are you worried he’s going to sell the property? Don’t worry, honey, we’ll find you somewhere else to live if the buyer don’t want to keep it as a rental.”

“Good night, Lina. I appreciate you always looking out for me.” Maybe also looking out for a bit of fresh gossip. “I’m not worried about him selling, I was just curious.”

For the second time that day, Nicole used a door to escape a conversation she didn’t want to finish. When she had rolled all the clean silverware and refilled all the salt shakers, the sky was dark and the tables were empty. Not wanting to be bored, she dug out the box of fall decorations and got to work on the window display. Maple Lane Cafe sat at the corner of Maple Lane and Moss Street, in the heart of downtown. The cafe took great pride in its seasonal window displays. Nicole enjoyed helping with the design because it was good practice for event decorations.

Nicole’s goal was to grow her event planning business large enough to hire a decorator on staff. Until then, however, she was a one-woman show, doing everything herself.

Counting the boxes labeled autumn, Nicole realized she was missing one. When she returned from the back storage closet with the heaviest box yet hugged to her chest, a deep voice startled her.

“Let me help you.” Her handsome stranger—landlord—extended his hands to take the box from her.

“Thank you, but it’s okay. I’ve got it.” She dropped the box with a thump, and the sound of broken glass hung in the air between them.

Damon lifted an eyebrow in challenge.

She volleyed with an exaggerated smile.

“Well, I’m sure whatever that was can be replaced. Accidents happen. I’ll take care of it after I take your order.”

Damon returned to his booth. “You can accept my help when you need it.”

“That’s very kind of you. I’ll keep that in mind for next time. The special tonight is chicken salad.”

He glowered in response, but the effect only made her stomach flutter.