Page 22 of Broken Reins (Whittier Falls #4)

Ford came out of the restroom, but instead of leaving, he returned to the counter. “I think I’ll do a refill, please Lil.”

My heart did a flip in my ribcage at the nickname, but I schooled my face into one of nonchalance. Hopefully. It probably looked like I was trying not to pass gas.

I gave him a new mug of steaming Sumatra and he nodded his thanks.

It didn’t take long for the bakery to clear out after the morning rush, leaving me and my nerves alone behind the counter.

Sutton had retreated to the back to refill flour bins and gossip on the phone, and Eryn was stretching her hamstrings at a table near the window, pretending not to eavesdrop while she made pointed, encouraging faces in my direction every time I caught her eye.

I did everything I could not to stare at him.

Instead, I wiped down the espresso station three times in a row and reorganized the sugar packets by color, because apparently I’d regressed to middle school coping strategies.

Ford waited until the place was almost empty before he stood up, bringing his mug and plate to me.

He set them down, then rested both palms on the edge of the counter like he was about to deliver bad news.

His hands were big—bigger than I remembered from last night, even—and there was a faint scar across the knuckle of his right index finger, like a white hyphen in a sentence nobody else could read.

I swallowed, steeled myself, and met his eyes.

“Hey,” I said, and immediately wanted to take it back for being the most boring word in the English language.

“Hey,” he echoed, but made it sound like a confession.

The silence between us was neither awkward nor comfortable—more like a held breath.

My whole body buzzed with the memory of his hands fixing my sink and his mouth pressed to mine, which was unhelpful, because all I could think about was the way it made me feel: seen, and wanted, and scared out of my mind.

“Did you like the bear claw?” I asked, just to say something.

He nodded. “Best I’ve had since I got back to Montana.”

I wanted to believe him, but mostly I wanted to crawl under the counter and hide until my face stopped burning.

Ford watched me, then looked down at his hands, as if he’d lost track of the reason he came up here in the first place. “I, uh, just wanted to say thanks for the other night. For the wine, and the company. It was—” He paused, searching for the word. “Nice.”

“Yeah,” I said, voice too soft. “It was.”

Another silence, this one thick with the weight of something about to happen.

Ford shifted his weight, leaning in a little. The scent of cedar and black coffee followed him. “I was wondering if you wanted to maybe do it again,” he said. “Hang out again, and get dinner, I mean.”

“Oh,” I blurted, caught off guard by the abruptness of it. “Like, tonight?”

He shrugged, a bashful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Or whenever. I’m not picky.”

I almost said yes right there, but my brain staged a protest. Wasn’t it too soon?

Wasn’t there a rule about waiting, or playing it cool, or not letting a man see you panic over the prospect of dinner and adult conversation?

And I had Noah to think about. I’d have to arrange a sitter, and it’s not like I had tons of extra cash laying around, something that would be embarrassing to admit to a real life billionaire.

I hesitated, just long enough for Ford to notice. His confidence didn’t waver, but his eyes softened, like he was bracing for the worst.

Before either of us could say anything else, Eryn swooped in like a hawk that had been circling for hours. I could tell she knew where my thoughts were headed by the way she stared me down. “Did I hear something about dinner?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Uh—maybe?”

Eryn ignored my flustered tone and beamed at Ford.

“You two should come to Red Downs tonight. Gray’s grilling, and Walker promised he wouldn’t incinerate the steaks this time.

Sutton’s coming, and Caroline, too.” She leaned in, voice a conspiratorial whisper.

“It’ll probably be like old times, only with better wine and less toxic masculinity. ”

Ford laughed, the tension draining from his shoulders. “That sounds great. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Sutton’s what?”

“Coming to Red Downs for dinner with everyone tonight,” she said, her eyes a little too wide to be natural.

Sutton didn’t miss a beat. “Oh yeah, it’ll be great,” she said before disappearing into the kitchen again.

Eryn gave me a look. “Maybe Ford can pick you up on his way, Lily.”

“Oh, I’d have to find a sitter?—”

“Don’t be silly, Mason and Chloe are bringing Abby. Noah’s always welcome. He can even sleep over if you want.”

“Oh, um, I don’t know . . .”

Ford looked to be hiding a smirk.

“Come on, Lily, I need someone to taste-test my potato salad. And you’re the only one who appreciates my lemon bars.”

I could tell by her tone that this wasn’t really a question, but a dare. I liked that about Eryn. She had a way of making the impossible sound mandatory.

“Sure,” I said, and meant it. “I’ll be there. But you don’t have to pick us up, Ford.”

Ford eyed Eryn and shook his head. “No, I’m pretty sure I do. But it’s my pleasure,” he added with a smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Sutton reappeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and grinning like she’d been listening the whole time. “You want me to bring another dessert?” she asked Eryn, who nodded like she’d just been named class president.

“Bring those chocolate pecan bars,” Eryn said. “Gray nearly started a bar fight over the last batch.”

Sutton winked at me, then glanced at Ford. “You like chocolate?”

Ford shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone?”

She smirked. “Good answer. See you tonight, Brooks.”

The conversation was over before it had begun, swept up in Eryn’s hurricane energy and Sutton’s mischievous encouragement. Ford lingered, just for a moment, and I realized we were alone again.

He tapped his fingers on the counter, then looked me dead in the eyes. “I’ll pick you up at six?” It was a question, but not really. More like a promise.

“Six is good,” I said. My voice was steady, but my heart was doing gymnastics.

His smile was small, but the real kind. “I’ll be early.”

He left then, shoulders squared, moving with a purpose I envied. The sun caught the edge of his hair as he walked out, making him look like he belonged in some other universe, some place where good things happened to people who didn’t expect them.

I exhaled, finally.

Eryn came back to the counter, arms folded. “He’s so into you,” she stage-whispered. “You know that, right?”

I shot her a look. “He’s into bear claws and free coffee. I’m just a bonus.”

She grinned, unconvinced. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Sutton elbowed me, a soft nudge. “You okay?”

I thought about it. Really thought. The past couple years had been nothing but holding my breath, waiting for the next disaster.

But right now, with the smell of fresh bread in the air and the promise of something new on the horizon, I felt .

. . okay. Maybe even better than okay. The bakery buzzed with the low, hopeful hum of a day still unfolding.

“Yeah,” I said, surprising myself. “I think I am.”