Page 177 of The Havenport Collection

Wyatt

I woke up the next morning after only a few hours of sleep, feeling like a new man. The sadness that had clung to me since fleeing Portland was gone, and I felt better than I had in years.

I was making coffee when I heard Trent come in from his morning run.

“You were out late last night,” he said, smirking. “You didn’t get lost driving home, did you?”

I busied myself measuring coffee grounds; I did not want to get into this with Trent. I looked down and tried to hide the massive smile that was making my cheeks ache.

“Or were you hanging out with Sylvie?”

I shrugged. “Her van wouldn’t start so I drove her home.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

“I try.”

When the pot finished brewing, he poured himself a cup of coffee and eyed me suspiciously. “You are totally in love with her already.”

I almost spit out my coffee. “No. Of course not.”

Trent shook his head. “Yeah, right. I saw the way you were looking at her, man. Your eyes were bulging out of your skull.”

“She’s beautiful, okay. And interesting and fun and incredibly talented.”

“Right…and you’re in love with her.”

“I am intrigued by her. I felt something. Something deep and intense, and I truly don’t even have the words to explain it to you.”

“No need. I can see it on your face. Just promise me you will never play poker.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I know, my mom always says I wear my heart on my sleeve.”

“Did you ask her out?”

“I’m just going to see how things go. Play it cool.”

“Dude, I’ve only known you for a week, and even I can see that you are not capable of playing anything cool.”

He wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t known for my aloof, mysterious personality. “You win. I will probably follow her around like a lovesick puppy. That’s my style. And it’s important to be honest with ourselves and embrace who we really are.”

Trent snorted. “Thanks, Oprah.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment. Oprah is a goddess, and you could take a lesson.”

“Fine. She is pretty badass.” He pointed to the hallway and directed, “Go get your ass showered. Sundays are super busy at the brewery, and I promised everyone I’d stop at the donut shop on the way.”

Trent and I decided to walk to the brewery, stopping outside a tiny shop.

The vintage style wooden sign said, “Go Nuts Donuts.” Like most establishments in Havenport, it was welcoming and oozing small town charm.

Trent refused to go in, giving me cash and instructing me to return with two dozen donuts.

The woman behind the counter greeted me warmly. She looked to be in her late twenties with auburn hair and a turquoise apron. “Hello and welcome. I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“I’m Wyatt, and I just moved here from Maine. It’s my first time in here.”

She held out her hand over the counter. “I’m Lila. Nice to meet you. Let me give you a sample. Just made these—they are bacon maple.” She handed me a tray with pieces of donuts stuck with toothpicks. I grabbed one and popped it in my mouth.

“That is amazing,” I sighed.

She beamed at me. “So now that I’ve hooked you, what would you like?”

I walked out of the shop, laden with donut boxes and grinning like an idiot. This was the friendliest, most welcoming town I had ever seen.

Trent scowled at me from across the street.

“That place is awesome,” I said, handing him his change. “Why didn’t you go in? Lila gave me free samples.”

He shook his head. “Better if I don’t. I used to date the owner.”

“Okay…”

“I broke up with her a few months ago, and she took it pretty badly.”

I had a hard time wrapping my mind around this. “Why did you break up? She is pretty and makes donuts that taste like heaven.”

“They are so good,” he said. “I gained so much weight dating her. The Fruity Pebble ones are the best. But we just weren’t a good fit.”

“Oh. Is she mean?”

“Not at all.”

“Really needy?”

“No.”

“Does she hate dogs?”

“Not that I know of. That’s a weird question.”

I shrugged. “I just love dogs, so any woman that doesn’t like them is a no-go for me. My ex hated dogs—a clear sign that she was the devil—and never let me get one. Is there a shelter in Havenport? I may go take a look next weekend.”

Trent stopped walking. “Hold up, dude, my apartment doesn’t allow dogs.”

“Oh right, sorry. Anyway, what was wrong with donut girl?”

“Nothing. She just wanted to get more serious, and I didn’t.” Trent picked up the pace, clearly annoyed with my interrogation.

“Huh. I didn’t peg you for a commitment-phobe,” I said, giving him a gentle elbow in the ribs.

He ran his hand through his hair and then flipped me the bird. “I hate that shit. You sound like Liam.” He stopped and studied me for a moment. “Lemme guess. You are a relationship guy. You chase after girls like a wounded puppy and then love them forever.”

Wow. He really got me. “Yup, pretty much. And before yesterday I would have said I was a chump, but after meeting Sylvie, I don’t care. I’m a huge chump, and it’s great.”

It was true. I was glowing with joy and hope.

A few hours away from Sylvie had only confirmed what I had suspected—she was incredible, and I was the luckiest guy on earth to stumble into her.

The timing was terrible; I had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and wasn’t looking to start anything new.

But I was a firm believer in fate, and I was not going to let the hurt from my past keep me from my future.

“And you,” I said, tapping my chin, “are a man-whore?”

“First of all, check your judgment. And second, not really. I like women, and I like dating. I’m a social person, and I live in this community, so opportunities arise. But I try to end things before they get serious and feelings get hurt. Most of the time it works out great.”

“So who are you hung up on?” I asked.

“Me? No one.” Trent stared firmly at his feet as we waited for the crossing signal to turn.

“Nope. Not buying it. From what I’ve seen, Trent, you are one of the good ones—a nice guy who likes everyone and goes out of his way to help.

So this bullshit casual-only womanizer crap has to be one of two things.

One, an ex totally destroyed you, or two, you are hopelessly in love with someone unattainable. ”

The light changed, and he shot through the crosswalk, deliberately avoiding me.

“So which is it?”

“Fuck off, new kid.”

We reached the entrance to the loading dock, and Trent unlocked the door. “New plan. How about you lay off me and we go bust Liam’s balls for a while?”

“Lead the way, boss.”