Page 8 of Knot Your Sugar Rush (Starling Grove #2)

Chapter eight

Theo

T he old farmhouse smells like cedarwood, strong coffee, and the faint bite of wood smoke clinging to the stone fireplace.

Sunlight slants across the floorboards in streaks of amber and dust, cutting through the gentle hush of late afternoon.

I lean back on the worn leather couch, a book balanced on my chest, unread.

I’ve been staring at the same page for twenty minutes. It’s a good book, by Starling Grove’s new favorite author, Lila Quinn. But I can’t focus, no matter how hard I try.

Jamie’s in the kitchen, humming. Not just humming, though.

It’s cheerful. Bubbly. He even snapped his fingers earlier.

I almost asked him if he was possessed. Jamie’s been like this for almost two weeks—ever since he signed the lease with the mystery tenant.

Floaty. Light. A golden retriever with a secret.

Jamie reappears, sauntering into the living room with a bowl of popcorn like he’s starring in his own home renovation commercial. “Popcorn?”

“Are you high?” I ask flatly.

“Nope,” Jamie chirps, his grin bright. “Just happy.”

“That’s worse,” I mutter, flipping a page I haven’t read.

Jamie plops down beside me on the couch, resting the bowl on his knees. “Her name’s Cam. She’s an omega. Starting a candy shop.”

I glance up at that. “I know that already. I reviewed the lease, remember?” I give up trying to read. “I’m surprised Dane didn’t scare her off. You sure she’s still in the building?”

Jamie’s face goes smug. “Of course she is.”

“She’s not even slightly intimidated?”

Jamie shakes his head. “Not even when Dane here turned up all gruff and territorial.”

Dane turns the corner from wherever he was lurking and huffs. “I wasn’t gruff. I was professional.”

“You probably stood in the doorway and scowled for ten straight minutes.”

“She’s still there,” Dane mutters under his breath. “That means something.”

“Means she’s got grit,” Jamie says.

“And she smells like cinnamon and trouble,” Dane adds, grudgingly.

Jamie’s smile goes dreamy. “Best combo.”

I lean forward, elbows resting on my knees, letting their banter wash over me while my mind pulls up the past like it never left.

“Camellia Vale,” I say quietly. “I remember her.”

Jamie glances over, interested. “You do?”

“She was younger. Ran around town with her sister. Azalea.”

“Zae,” Jamie confirms, softer now.

I nod slowly. Memories unfurl—sun-drenched afternoons, the Vale twins skipping stones at the lake, their laughter bouncing off the water.

Azalea was loud, radiant, the kind of girl who never whispered when she could sing.

Cam was quieter. But her eyes missed nothing.

They’d been younger so not of interest, but their enthusiasm had permeated the town with something cozy, so of course I’d noticed them.

“She used to follow Zae everywhere,” I murmur. “Always had a notebook or candy in her hands.”

Dane sits down on the armrest across from me. “Zae passed, didn’t she? Few years back.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “Car accident, I think. Cam left town after that.”

And now she’s back. Stirring up the dust and memory like she’s always belonged here. Like the town waited quietly for her return.

“You’re brooding,” Dane says.

“I’m thinking.”

Jamie tosses a popcorn kernel at my head. “You’re always thinking. It’s exhausting.”

“It’s called being observant.” I protest.

“It’s called stewing in your own darkness,” Dane says dryly.

I exhale a sigh and look toward the window. The fields are gold and green this time of day, and the lake beyond the trees catches light like a mirror.

“Thinking of running again?” Dane asks, his voice low. Not judging. Just... knowing.

I shrug. “Maybe.”

Jamie leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You know you won’t find better coffee than mine out there.”

I snort. “That’s not a reason to stay.”

Jamie’s grin tilts. “What if I gave you one?”

I lift a brow, already suspicious.

I lift a brow, already suspicious.

“Cam needs help. Shelving. Fixtures. Electrical work. You’re the best at that.”

“Mm-hmm,” I say.

Dane adds, a little too casually, “Might be good for you to help someone who’s trying to rebuild. Might remind you there’s still good here.”

I narrow my eyes. “Are you two matchmaking?”

Jamie raises his hands. “What? No! We’re landlords. This is professional.”

Dane smirks. “Mostly.”

I look between them, reading the truth in their not-so-innocent faces. There’s something about the way Jamie can’t sit still and the way Dane keeps glancing at me like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

My last relationship hadn’t ended well. They’d helped me rebuild, and I had to trust they had my best interests at heart. Even if that could also prove annoying.

“I’ll go,” I say finally. “I’ll check it out. Help her if she needs it.”

Jamie whoops. “Yes!”

Dane just nods, but there’s satisfaction in the tilt of his head.

I stretch my arms over the back of the couch, trying to ignore the weird flutter in my chest.

It’s just a job. A good deed. A distraction.

But I already know it won’t be just that. Not with the way those two idiots are acting.