Page 42 of Love, Legacy, and Little Green Aliens

Figuring this out would be easier if seductive sensory memories weren’t derailing his rational brain. Because man—what a kiss! What a beautiful, brave woman, laying her heart’s pain bare for a near-stranger. What a ridiculous barrier keeping them apart.

But Hannah’s objections were important to her, and he’d have to respect that. So here he was, thoroughly stuck.

As he entered the sunny bakery, Garrett emerged from the back holding a tray of iced pastries.

“Mmm. Smells like just what I need.” Xander peered over the counter. “What are these?”

“Grandma Ella’s Danish. I’ve got rhubarb, apple, and lemon-ricotta.”

Xander’s stomach rumbled. “Tough choice. You pick. And a large coffee with extra cream, please.”

“On it.” Garrett plated a pastry and filled an oversize mug. “I’m curious. How does someone our age live on pastries and coffee and look as fit as you do?” He slid Xander’s order across the counter and gave his arm a squeeze. “You got padding under your shirt?”

Xander snorted. “I’ll have you know I ate a kale salad for lunch.”

“Uh huh. Didn’t I see you running on the beach the other day?”

“Exercise helps clear my mind.” He slurped his coffee, then dosed it with two sugars. “If that doesn’t work, bring on the caffeine and sugar.”

Garrett shook his head. “Ain’t gonna criticize. So many people these days won’t touch sugar or flour, so I’m grateful for every customer I can get.” He folded his arms atop the bakery case. “So, what’s got you mainlining carbs today?”

“Ugh.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”

“Life is complicated, my friend.” Garrett looked past him to greet a pair of older women. “Afternoon, ladies. A pot of Earl Grey?”

The taller of the two eyed Xander curiously. “Let’s try the green jasmine today.”

While the baker saw to their order, Xander settled into his favorite armchair by the bay window and munched his pastry—so light and flakey his chambray shirt was soon littered with crumbs.

Once the waiting customers were seen to, Garrett joined him, stretching out his long legs with a sigh. “Feels good to get off my feet. Been up since o-dark-thirty.”

“Sounds like you were military.”

“Air Force. Cook of the year on three different air bases.” He laced his fingers together behind his neck. “So, what’s eating my new neighbor?”

“What isn’t? The building’s falling apart, the reno’s costing way more than I budgeted, and now—” He lowered his voice. “I’ve got lady troubles.”

Garrett let out a low whistle. “Already? Thought you and Hannah were getting along just fine.”

“Jeezus. Does everyone know?”

“Small town, my friend. Being all up in each other’s business is part of the deal.”

“Is it worth it?”

Garrett pressed his lips together and gazed out the window for a moment before his easy smile returned. “Asked myself that question a lot when I first came here. From my point of view, yes, it’s worth it. The restaurant business is hella competitive, and I burned out pretty hard. Here, I can take my time, experiment, and sink roots, you know?” He leaned his elbows onto the table. “So—you and Hannah?”

“Shh!” Xander glanced at the older gals seated two tables away. One of them quickly averted her gaze. “We were vibing hard, and then she suddenly announces she can’t date me because it’s a conflict of interest.”

Garrett’s spooky-pale blue eyes shone with amusement. “Quite the passionate reporter, our Hannah.”

“She’s trying to save her newspaper.”Shit. Should’ve asked her permission before mentioning that.

“TheBeacon’s in trouble?” Garrett glanced at the wire newspaper rack by his front door. “I’ll have to push them harder.” He half-rose from his seat. “Hey, Rosie, you get this week’s copy of theBeaconyet?”

“Read it online. Loved that story about the UFOs.”

Her companion chimed in, “That’s the most interesting thing I’ve read in that old paper since the storm of eight-two, when St. Sebastian’s steeple toppled over.”