Page 21 of Broken Reins (Whittier Falls #4)

Thirteen

Lily

A few days later, Campfire Bakery was humming along in that jittery, caffeine-fueled rhythm only a small town could muster.

Sutton had already been there two hours before opening, cranking out maple bacon bars and pumpkin cheesecake muffins, and by nine-thirty she’d lined the entire pastry case with a parade of perfect, golden-brown specimens.

I was manning the espresso machine, which hissed and gurgled like an angry pet every time I pulled a shot.

My apron was already dusted with flour and a smear of blueberry jam.

The regulars had claimed their tables before sunrise and were still going strong, nursing refills and eavesdropping with the open subtlety of professional busybodies.

But it wasn’t them I was watching. Every time the bell over the door jingled, my whole body did a weird, hummingbird stutter and my eyes snapped up, like I was expecting something or someone. Maybe I was.

Sutton clocked it before I even realized I’d been caught. She nudged a tray of cinnamon twists my way and smirked, eyebrows doing a gymnastics routine. “If you stare any harder at that door, you’re gonna burn a hole through it.”

I gave her a look. “Just keeping an eye on the flow.”

“Yeah, sure.” She set down the tray, folding her arms and planting one hip against the counter. “You've been talking about your new faucet with stars in your eyes like it was the Hope Diamond.”

“I was just—” I started, but then the espresso machine screamed for my attention. I swatted at it, sloshing crema onto my hand. “Dammit.”

She just laughed, then flicked her gaze back to the front. “If he comes in, you’re going to have to use your words, you know. Or at least stop drooling.”

“Don’t you have, like, a million things to do?” I muttered, tamping the coffee with probably too much force.

“I’m ahead of schedule,” she said, and her voice went soft for half a second. “Besides. You deserve to be happy and I like seeing you like this. That’s all I’m saying.”

I shot her a grateful smile, then glanced around at the bakery. The place was packed, every table full, and the only sound louder than Sutton’s voice was the machine-gun chatter from the table of retired teachers near the window.

I’d just turned to start another order when the door swung open with a little too much force and a woman with a ponytail so tight it looked like it could lift her off the ground came in, carrying a yoga mat and the raw, bracing scent of peppermint essential oil.

“Eryn!” Sutton called, like it was a game show and the correct answer had just been announced.

Eryn made a beeline for the counter, peeling off her sunglasses and shoving them on top of her head. She had the kind of perfect skin that made me want to invest in whatever serum she used, and her leggings had enough contouring panels to qualify as sculpture—not that she needed them.

“Morning, sunshine,” she said to Sutton, then flashed me a grin. “Hi, Lily! Can I get a matcha latte and a power muffin? I need carbs—big day.”

I plucked a muffin from the rack and handed it to her. “Isn’t every day a big day for you?”

She snorted. “You’d think. But today we’re trying out our new hot yoga studio.”

Sutton grimaced, and I let myself smile. Eryn was pure sunshine, the kind of person who could talk anyone into anything if she tried hard enough. She wore her kindness like an aura, but I knew she could turn it into a weapon if necessary.

She took her latte and did a slow pan of the room, then leaned in. “So. Has he been in yet?”

Sutton almost choked on her own spit. “You’re as bad as me. No, not yet. But I give it ten minutes.”

I kept my eyes on the milk frother, hoping they’d drop it, but Eryn was relentless.

“You know, Gray says he’s probably working on the ranch all morning, you know, getting it cleaned up?

But you know what I think?” She took a dramatic sip, eyes never leaving mine.

“I think he’s gonna come in here, order a black coffee, and look at you like you hung the damn moon. ”

I went beet red. “You’re both delusional.”

Eryn shrugged, swirling her matcha. “Delusional is the best way to live. You should try it.”

The bell over the door chimed again, and every head in the place swiveled, just like Sutton had predicted. I didn’t want to look, but I did anyway, because apparently I was incapable of self-preservation.

And there he was.

Ford Brooks filled the doorway like it was built to his measurements.

He wore a blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up, his tattoos peeking out in swirls of black and gray.

His hair was messy, like he’d run a hand through it a thousand times on the way over.

He wore the same square-framed glasses. They made him look both dangerous and vulnerable, which was a deeply unfair combination.

The whole bakery seemed to inhale at once.

Ford gave a nod to the room, then headed straight for the counter, his stride easy and unhurried. Every cell in my body threatened to dissolve.

Sutton turned away, grabbing a new tray, but not before whispering, “Showtime.”

Eryn’s eyes lit up like she’d won the lottery, and she scooted to the side, making space for Ford at the counter. “Hey, Brooks,” she called, her voice softening in that way it did when she liked someone.

He smiled, and it was devastating. “Morning, Eryn. Sutton. Lily.” He said my name last, and it felt like it stuck in the air for a second.

I tried to remember how to talk. “Hey. Usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He put a ten on the counter, not even waiting for the total.

I punched in the order, hands shaking so hard I nearly dropped the mug.

Sutton sidled over, sliding a fresh bear claw onto the plate. “On the house,” she said, “since you’re apparently our favorite customer.”

Ford grinned at her, then glanced at Eryn. “Heard your yoga class is getting wild. Walker says half the town’s signed up now.”

Eryn rolled her eyes. “If by wild you mean half the guys show up to gawk at Dr. Caroline doing bendy splits, then yes. It’s a circus. You should come by—Gray could use the competition.”

Ford shook his head, but he was smiling. “Think I’ll pass. Flexibility’s overrated.”

He looked at me again, and my throat went dry.

I handed him his coffee, careful not to spill. “Sumatra, right? I remembered.”

He looked at the mug, then at me, his gaze gentle but direct. “You’ve got a good memory.”

“Only for useless trivia,” I said, then wanted to slap myself for being so awkward.

Ford leaned in, voice low. “I don’t think it’s useless at all.”

The heat in my cheeks probably set a new state record.

He took the coffee, fingers brushing mine for a fraction of a second, then carried it to the end of the counter. He settled on a stool, took a sip, and exhaled like he hadn’t breathed all morning.

The whole thing was over in less than thirty seconds, but it felt like a tectonic event.

Eryn sidled back over, voice pitched for just the three of us. “See? What did I tell you? He’s absolutely crazy about you.”

I shook my head, still reeling. “He barely said anything, he was just being polite.”

Sutton snorted. “Lil, that man’s not polite to anyone. I’ve known him since I was knee-high and he’s never looked at me like he looks at you.”

Eryn nodded, conspiratorial. “Gray says the ranch isn’t the only thing he’s interested in fixing up.”

I wanted to crawl into the flour bin and stay there forever.

“I thought Gray wasn’t even speaking to him.”

“Oh he isn’t really. Yet. He’s driving me crazy over it. The man clearly misses his friend and can barely go two minutes without talking about him, but refuses to sit down and hash things out.”

Sutton rolled her eyes. “I know what you mean. Damon’s even worse. He’s so transparent, like yeah, your feelings were hurt. Why don’t you do something about it instead of being an asshole all the time?”

“They better sort it out soon, or I’ll be forced to intervene,” Eryn said with a nod.

A lull fell over the bakery, the rush between orders settling into a steady background noise. Ford sipped his coffee, eyes scanning the room, never lingering but never really leaving, either. It was like he was aware of every movement, every change in the air.

Sutton took advantage of the quiet to finish wiping down the counter. “So, are you gonna ask him out, or do I have to?”

I nearly dropped a spoon. “What? No. I mean—what would I even say?”

She grinned, evil. “Say you need help with something else at the apartment. Maybe your microwave is on the fritz.”

Eryn laughed, hiding it behind her hand. “Or your WiFi password is too hard to remember and you can’t figure out how to change it.”

I rolled my eyes, but secretly loved that they cared enough to tease me. It was a weird, unfamiliar feeling, this sense of being part of a team. Of not being completely alone.

Ford finished his coffee, then stood and tossed a tip in the jar—a twenty, because apparently he was trying to ruin me. He gave me a little nod as he headed to the restroom, like we were sharing a secret.

Once the door swung shut behind him, Eryn let out a long, theatrical sigh. “God, he’s hot.”

Sutton agreed, folding her arms. “He’s hot, but he’s also trouble. You ever need backup, you let me know.”

I smiled, finally relaxing. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sutton stacked the clean mugs, then gave me a look. “You really like him.”

I pretended not to hear, but the smile on my face wouldn’t fade.

“I can’t help it,” I admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “He makes me feel—” I stopped, not sure what word came next. Alive? Real? Like maybe I mattered?

Sutton filled in the blank. “Like you’re safe,” she said. “Even when you’re not.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“I know the feeling,” she said, softer this time. “And I know it’s scary. But you can trust it, Lily. Some people are worth the risk.”

I wanted to believe her. I really did.