Page 25

CHAPTER 25

CASPIAN

I enter Miller’s General Store, greeted by the familiar creak of wooden floorboards and the comforting scent of freshly ground coffee from the small counter where Mrs. Miller always keeps a pot brewing. The woven shopping basket I grabbed from the stack by the door dangles from one arm as I pull out my phone to check my grocery list. The store isn’t big or fancy like the supermarkets in Phoenix, but its narrow aisles stocked with everyday essentials and local products have already become a familiar comfort in my new small-town life.

I head straight for the baking aisle, my mind already running through the recipe for maple-and-cheese scones. The Winter Wishes Festival is coming up fast, and I want to have something of my own to serve. Most people don’t say it, but I know my bakes aren’t like Catherine’s. They always lack something, texture or flavor. But where I miss the mark, I make it up with something else.

Even if my scones aren’t the best, they’re still a little bit of me and Mom. I like to think she’d be proud that I always try my best. Plus, they’ll be perfect for tomorrow’s opening.

As I’m reaching for flour, my thoughts drift to Nate. He’s been working so hard lately with all the storm damage. I wonder if he’s had time to do any grocery shopping. Maybe I should pick up some essentials for him? Some bread, milk, maybe ingredients for an easy dinner…

I stop myself mid-reach, my hand hovering over a loaf of the artisanal bread I noticed in his kitchen last time. It’s probably inappropriate for me to assume Nate needs help with groceries. He’s a grown man who’s lived here his whole life. He definitely knows how to take care of himself. Besides, what would I even say? “ Hey, I thought you might be too busy to shop, so I bought you bread .” That sounds weirdly presumptuous, especially since we haven’t really defined what this thing between us is. For all I know, I’m just a convenient distraction while he’s busy with work.

The thought sits heavy in my stomach as I move through the store, mechanically adding ingredients to my basket. Are we dating? We haven’t actually been on many proper dates unless you count shared dinners and stolen moments in my coffee shop. And that blowjob earlier today… My cheeks flush at the memory.

But then again, what do I really know about what Nate does when we’re not together? The niggling doubt that’s been hovering at the edges of my mind starts to grow. I think about New Year’s Eve. How easily he approached me at the bar. How many other guys has he done that with?

I pause in front of the dairy case, staring unseeing at the rows of cheese. For all I know, he could have gone to Burlington in the past few days. Is that even in his work area? I realize I don’t actually know the geographical scope of his job. The forest is huge, after all.

Shaking off my spiraling thoughts, I grab the cheese I need and turn around—only to nearly collide with a small body. I stumble back, catching myself on the dairy case.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” I say, looking down at a small boy with blue eyes and tousled light-brown hair. He’s probably around five or six years old.

Instead of responding, the boy puts his finger to his lips in an exaggerated shushing motion. “I’m on a secret mission,” he whispers loudly, the kind of whisper that’s actually louder than regular speaking.

I can’t help but laugh. “A secret mission, huh?”

He nods solemnly. “I’m Bailey, but you can’t tell anyone you saw me. My daddies said so.”

“Did we now?” a warm voice says from behind Bailey. I look up to see a man approaching us, an amused smile on his face. He’s a little shorter than me, with kind brown eyes behind dark-rimmed glasses and soft brown hair. He’s wearing a cozy-looking sweater with paint splatters on it, and there’s something inherently sweet about his whole demeanor. “I’m so sorry about that. Bailey has a very active imagination.”

“No worries at all,” I say, smiling. “Bailey here was just telling me about his secret mission.”

The man extends his hand. “I’m Ben. We’re visiting for a few days.”

“Caspian,” I reply, shaking his hand. “Are you here for the Winter Wishes Festival? I’m still pretty new to town myself, so I’m looking forward to experiencing it for the first time.”

Ben opens his mouth to respond but pauses, glancing over his shoulder. I follow his gaze to see three men standing at the end of the aisle with another child. Two of them look identical—they must be twins. Something about their faces seems familiar, but I can’t quite place it.

“Yeah, we’re here for the festival,” Ben says, turning back to me with an odd expression I can’t quite read. “And…maybe a few other things.”

“Have you seen the Wishing Tree yet?” I ask, gesturing toward Bailey, who’s now bouncing on his toes with excitement. “It’s really magical, especially for kids.”

“The Wishing Tree?” Bailey’s eyes grow wide. “What’s that?”

I crouch to his level, matching his enthusiasm. “Well, it’s this beautiful big tree in the city park. People write their wishes on special decorations and hang them on the branches. They say the wishes come true throughout the year.”

“Really?” Bailey gasps, then turns to Ben. “Daddy, can we go see it? Please?”

Ben laughs, ruffling Bailey’s hair. “Of course we can, buddy. What would you wish for?”

Bailey beckons his dad to bend down, then cups his hands around Ben’s ear, whispering something that makes Ben smile softly.

“Oh, sweetie,” Ben says, straightening. “I think Sienna might be a bit young for a bike right now.”

One of the men from the group approaches us. He has jet-black hair tied into a bun and dark-blue eyes. He’s also shorter than the twins, who have light-brown hair and features so similar I have to look twice to tell them apart.

“Bailey’s been trying to convince us all since Christmas,” he explains. “He and his cousin, my son Tyler, got bikes, and now he wants his baby sister to join their bike gang. Never mind that she’s just six months old. I’m Indy, by the way.”

“That’s adorable,” I say, watching as Bailey skips back to the other group. “Maybe you could wish for something else?” I call after him. “Like…ice cream?”

“Don’t give him ideas.” Ben groans good-naturedly. “We should probably get going though. If we don’t feed these kids soon, we’ll have a riot on our hands. Besides, I want to call my best friend to check in on Sienna. We decided she was too little to make the trip during the winter, so she stayed back home.”

“Oh, right! Well, if you’re looking for somewhere to grab coffee while you’re in town, I own Special Blend opposite the north side of the park. We’re actually officially opening tomorrow. I’d love to treat you all to some of our special blends and pastries.”

Indy’s eyes light up. “A coffee shop? We’ll definitely stop by. I own a coffee shop back home, so we’re always excited to try new places.”

I feel a warmth spread through my chest. Something about their energy and Bailey’s sweet innocence gets to me. Life’s too short to second-guess every kind gesture. Before I leave, I grab that loaf of artisanal bread Nate likes, along with some fresh fruit and a block of his favorite cheese. It’s not about defining our relationship. It’s about being kind to someone I care about. Besides, the way his eyes light up when he’s happy is worth any moment of uncertainty.

Back home, with flour dusting my countertops and the warm, comforting scent of baking scones filling my kitchen, my thoughts drift back to Nate. The way he kissed me in the bookstore corner, how his hands felt on my skin, the tenderness in his eyes when he looked at me. But also the uncertainty gnawing at my gut. What are we to each other? What does he want from this?

I need someone to talk to, someone who knows me better than anyone else. Marcus has been my best friend since forever. He’s gotten me through life drama, boy drama, and my mom’s illness. If anyone can help me make sense of this situation with Nate, it’s him.

I pull out my phone and call Marcus.

“Well, well, well,” Marcus drawls when he picks up. “If it isn’t my favorite desert flower transplanted to the frozen north. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Can’t I just call to say hi?” I ask, wedging the phone between my ear and shoulder as I knead dough for the second batch of scones.

“You could, but that’s not why you’re calling. Spill it. How’s the Vermont hunk treating you?”

I pause in my kneading, flour-covered hands hovering over the dough. “That’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how? Are you dating? Just hooking up? Planning a spring wedding?”

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” I admit, resuming my kneading with perhaps more force than necessary. “We’re definitely sleeping together, but…”

“But what?” Marcus prompts when I trail off.

“But we haven’t defined anything. It started during a snowstorm. We weathered the snowstorm together, had sex, and it just…hasn’t stopped. And there’s something else.”

“Also? There’s an also? I love an also. Tell me everything.”

I take a deep breath. “Remember that guy I hooked up with on New Year’s Eve? At the masquerade party?”

“The mysterious stranger who rocked your world?”

“Yeah, well…” I start dividing the dough into portions. “That was Nate.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, what? How do you know?”

“He has this beauty mark on his hip. I noticed it the first time we…you know. And then I remembered seeing it that night.”

“Hold up,” Marcus says. “Does he know?”

“No,” I admit, wincing. “I haven’t told him.”

“Caspian Lane!” Marcus’s voice rises in pitch. “You need to tell him! Like yesterday!”

“I know, I know.” I groan, shaping the dough into a circle and patting it down to cut it into triangles. “But what if he gets upset that I didn’t tell him sooner? Or worse, what if this whole thing between us is just casual for him and knowing about New Year’s Eve makes it weird?”

“Or,” Marcus counters, “what if he finds out some other way and feels like you’ve been lying to him? Which, by the way, you kind of have been.”

“I haven’t been lying,” I protest weakly. “I just…haven’t mentioned it.”

“Honey, that’s a lie of omission, and you know it.” Marcus’s voice softens. “Look, I get why you’re scared. But if Nate is half the guy you’ve been gushing about, he deserves to know the truth.”

I lean against the counter, closing my eyes. “What if he’s only interested in hooking up? What if telling him makes him realize this is getting too complicated?”

“Then he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you,” Marcus says firmly. “But, Cas, sweetie, think about it. If he’s only interested in hooking up, wouldn’t he have already made that clear? From what you’ve told me, he’s been pretty invested in spending time with you, helping with the coffee shop, and carrying maple syrup samples…”

“Those were for the coffee shop,” I mumble.

“Right, because every forest product whatever-his-title-is stops their workday to personally help every new business owner in town unload their cars,” Marcus says dryly. “Face it, babe. He likes you. And if he does, finding out you’re also the guy he had amazing chemistry with on New Year’s Eve isn’t going to change that. If anything, it might make him realize how special your connection is.”

The timer dings, and I pull out the first batch of scones, their golden-brown tops glistening with melted cheese. The familiar motions of baking help calm my racing thoughts.

“You’re right,” I finally admit. “I need to tell him.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m always right. Now, tell me more about this coffee shop of yours. When do I get to visit?”