3. Antonio

The smell of burnt wood and charred sugar lingers in the air as I snap photos of the bakery wreckage. The devastation caused by the fire is tremendous, and nothing is recognizable. So many memories, gone. The sight of the twisted metal beams and shattered glass is a stark contrast to what was once a warm and inviting sanctuary.

“Such a shame,” Benedict comments, standing next to me in his firefighter uniform. His face is screwed up in absolute dismay, as if this has happened to him. He’s always been such an empath. “This was one of our favorite spots.”

That’s more true for him than for me, considering I’ve only been to this spot a time or two. But Benedict brought home baked goods from here often, although I’m pretty sure that was because he constantly wanted to flirt with the shop owner.

Not that it seemed to go anywhere.

I nod, unable to tear my eyes away from the crumbling brick walls and blackened countertops that once housed the most delicious pastries we’d ever tasted. A pang of guilt washes over me as I think of Harper, the owner. Her passion for baking was evident in every crumb, every swirl of icing. She didn’t deserve this.

But, sometimes that’s just life.

“The whole thing is just so strange,” I comment as I move over to the oven, said to be the source of the fire, and opening it up. “I mean, there’s nothing in the oven.”

“Okay…?” Benedict raises an eyebrow.

“So, how did the oven start the fire?”

“You think there was another source?”

I shrug. “Maybe she needed the insurance money.”

Benedict shakes his head. “She’s not the type to commit insurance fraud.”

“And you would know from your daily five-minute conversations?” Benedict and I are different. Even though I’m a firefighter, I’m more likely to think someone is guilty until proven innocent. There aren’t very many good people left in this world. Benedict seems sure that’s not what happened in this case, but people do stuff like that all the time so who’s to know, really?

“She has a good heart,” he says in Harper’s defense. “She’s not like other people. I can’t imagine what she’s going to do now.”

“Still, the detectives will probably look into it.” I adjust the focus on my camera before snapping another photo. “She’s probably distraught.”

“Hopefully, her insurance will cover the damages, and she can rebuild,” Benedict replies, his voice full of hope. “It won’t be the same, but it’ll be something.”

“I guess,” I agree, taking one last picture before lowering my camera. “But no amount of insurance money is fixing all of this. She’ll probably have to rebuild somewhere else or let her dream go, which is unfortunate.”

“I didn’t think you’d care,” he points out.

I didn’t realize I did.

I find myself thinking about her pale skin, light brown curly hair, those curvy hips, and green eyes—the way they always lit up when she spoke about the latest thing she’d managed to whip up in the kitchen, asking us to taste it and let us know what we thought.

Benedict chuckles, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You know, I’m really going to miss the opportunity to stare at Harper while munching on her heavenly pastries.” He smirks, playfully nudging me in the ribs. “She’s absolutely gorgeous, and that smile of hers…”

He sounds like a lovesick idiot. How can he be so infatuated with someone he’s never even taken out on a date? Love has never made sense to me, and that’s a big part of the reason I stay away from it.

“Ben,” I chide, shaking my head as I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. “Last I checked, you’re not her boyfriend. Who are we to say that she doesn’t have one? You may have missed your chance, lover boy.”

“Ladies can’t deny me,” he replies, his expression sobering. “Anyways, I’m just trying to lighten the mood. This whole situation is so…unbearable.”

“You’re telling me,” a voice says from behind us.

We both turn around, and there’s Harper, staring around at everything, eyes empty. She’s dressed in baggy clothes, her hair pulled up, clearly not brushed, and bags underneath her eyes. Last I’d heard from Hudson, she was still in the hospital.

“Harper,” Benedict calls her, his face full of trepidation, and I can only imagine he’s wondering how much of our conversation she’s heard. But if she did hear about his little crush, either she’s pretending she didn’t for his sake, or she just doesn’t care.

She offers him a smile, but it’s not wholehearted. “Hey, Benny.”

I guess they’ve gotten closer than I thought.

“How are you holding up?” Benedict asks, genuine worry etched on his face.

She sighs, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “I’ve been better, but I’m trying to stay strong.” She hesitates before adding, “It’s not just the bakery, though. My apartment…it was above the shop. It’s gone too.”

My chest tightens at this revelation, another blow to an already devastating situation. I can’t imagine losing everything in one fell swoop, and yet Harper stands before us, vulnerable but resilient. I feel a surge of admiration for her courage.

I want to say something, say how sorry I am and touch her arm in an attempt to comfort her. But, that’s not me. And the last thing I want to do is give her mixed signals.

She looks up at me, her emerald eyes meeting mine, and I see the weight of her loss reflected in their depths.

Benedict’s eyes narrow, and I can see the gears turning in his head as he considers Harper’s situation. “What are your plans for temporary housing?” he asks, his voice soft but determined.

I watch Harper closely, my heart pounding in my chest as she bites her lip, clearly struggling to find an answer. The vulnerability in her expression tugs at something deep within me, a need to protect that I never knew was so strong.

“Truthfully,” she begins, her voice wavering slightly, “I don’t have a place to stay yet. I’ve been so focused on the bakery and dealing with insurance, I haven’t had time to figure it out.” The corners of her mouth lift in a wry smile, and she adds, “But, you know what they say—when one door closes, another opens. I’ll figure something out.”

“Harper, why don’t you stay with us?” Benedict suggests casually, his words catching me off guard.

I turn around to look at him with narrowed eyes.

Absolutely not.

“Stay…with you guys?” she asks, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. I can tell the offer intrigues her, but I feel a knot forming in my stomach, unable to shake the feeling that we barely know her.

“Of course! We have plenty of room, and we’d be happy to help you get back on your feet,” Benedict continues, ignoring the warning look I shoot in his direction. But I can’t let this slide without voicing my concerns.

I grip his arm. “Benedict, I’d like to talk to you for a second…over there.”

Before he can say anything, I’m yanking him away from Harper toward a burnt corner of the bakery. “Have you lost your mind?” I growl. I feel as bad for her as anyone else, but not enough to invite her into my life.

“We can’t just let her go without a place to stay!” Benedict argues.

“Just because you have a crush on her doesn’t mean she can live with us!”

“Hudson would be fine with it.”

“Because he only thinks with his dick.”

Benedict lets out a breath. “I know that you don’t enjoy having strangers in your space, and under normal circumstances, I would never offer, but she’s a good girl. None of this is her fault. And everything’s been taken from her. It won’t hurt us to let her stay with us, just for a few weeks.”

I want to argue, but at the same time, I know he’s right. Besides, I’m not the type of man who tries to fight losing battles.

“Fine,” I relent, exhaling sharply. “She can stay with us, but only for a couple weeks, Benedict, and I mean that.”

“Okay, okay.”

We make our way back over to Harper. I try to mask my reluctance. “You’re welcome to stay with us, Harper.”

“Thank you so much, both of you,” she says, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. “I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

“Of course not,” Benedict replies warmly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We just want to make sure you’re taken care of.”