Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Noah

I didn't know why, but this week seemed extra long. As a reluctant resident of Cozy Creek, I admittedly didn't have much of a life. Maybe that was why.

Making friends hadn't been at the top of my to-do list since moving to town. Especially now that I didn't plan on staying. It seemed like a wasted effort. I knew my boss, Jimmy, of course. I was friendly with the staff at the Cozy Creek Confectionery and the coffee shop because, outside of the Bronco and my apartment, that was where I visited most often.

And then there was Lu, who caught me off guard and sneaked past my defenses. She was my . . . friend. Sure, a friend I found funny and smart and smoking hot. But she was just a friendly person.

Lu was knee-deep in everything Cozy Creek. She seemed like the sort of individual who asked after her mail carrier's grandkids or led a book club once a month. She probably volunteered for committees or helped out at the local animal shelter. Her giving and charitable nature was likely why she made such an effort with me. My one-woman welcoming committee. She destroyed my walls, one brick at a time, and shredded my careful self-control despite my best efforts. She would definitely hate the fact that I was just sort of floating through my existence here in Colorado.

Most mornings, I went for a run and stopped in the bakery downstairs for a meal. The rest of my time was spent working. My free time went toward building my new website and job hunting. The search for new employment was pretty open-ended. I was willing to work from home or move anywhere in the continental United States as soon as I had enough money saved. But I didn't think I would have much luck finding work in my field. Potential employers tended to review past job experience. There was no way in hell that anything from my previous employer would lend itself in my favor.

As a result, plan B was in the works. I'd gone to college for computer science, but strayed from my chosen field of web and app design when I'd landed a job in my hometown. The local grocery chain had offered on-the-job training for a help desk position, and honestly, employment was limited where I was from. As a twenty-year-old college student, I hadn't been ready to uproot and branch out. Smith Foods hired me part-time my senior year, and once I graduated, I stepped right into a full-time role. I wasn't doing web design, but I was still in the tech field and making decent money with room for advancement. So I'd stuck with it for seven years and was the help desk manager when all was said and done. Smith Foods had been my first and only real job.

Now that decision was biting me in the ass.

I hadn't landed a single interview or any recruiter interest, and the reason was my own damn fault.

Sighing, I glanced up from my laptop. The apartment came furnished. Thank you very much, Landlord Gigi, because I didn't have a whole lot. My computer, some clothes, a box of books, and a handful of other mementos were the only things that survived the great purge and made the trip with me out West.

The furniture was all fine—comfortable and lived in. But nothing here was anything I would have picked for myself. The throw pillows were all subdued, not like the rainbow of accessories over at Lu's place. The walls were mostly bare, and, again, I thought of buying something from her shop—something to make this place more mine.

But what was the point of that? I didn't think I could stay here in Cozy Creek. In fact, plan B hinged on me leaving this town.

Ignoring the blank gray walls, I brushed away thoughts of Lu while I was at it. Safer that way. Then I checked the time in the corner of my screen. 2:48 p.m. I had time to hit the grocery store for some things I needed before my Huber shift started at five.

The General Store wasn't far. It didn't have all the essentials, but I could get by for a while until I needed to travel outside of town to go to a Wal-Mart or Target.

Grabbing a basket on my way in, I gave a nod to the cashier who greeted me. I was pretty sure her name was Betsy. A few people were wandering through the aisles. I could pick out the tourists, for the most part, by their plaid scarves and general air of "look how cute this tiny store is!" as they gawked and pointed.

I'd just hit the snack aisle when I spotted Lu along the back wall of the store reaching for a bottle of wine. Her back was to me, and I stood frozen for a second as I watched her rise onto the toes of her leopard-print ballet flats, her petite form straining for a bottle on the top shelf. Her blond hair cascaded down her back in unruly waves. I could see a headband peeking out among the strands. She wore dark tights under an emerald-green skirt. Her peacoat and ridiculous purse hid everything else.

An unexpected smile lit my features as I took her in. Relief and joy had me feeling like a middle schooler with a crush. I'd missed this girl. Missed her conversation and our car rides. Her constant need to feed me and her questionable taste in music. I'd missed her red lips and her smiles aimed right at me.

And with that awareness came a cold sense of dread followed closely by utter fucking panic.

I suddenly realized why this week had seemed to drag on endlessly. I hadn't seen Lu since I'd dropped her at the airport four days ago. Since she'd hugged me goodbye like I was someone she'd known her whole life . . . someone who was a real friend . . . like I was someone period. She felt so good in my arms, but I'd forced myself to step back and let her go.

All of these complicated and conflicting thoughts flitted through my mind while I stood there like an idiot.

Lu dropped back onto her heels with a dull click, wine bottle in hand, and I panicked. I darted around the corner of the aisle and flattened myself against an endcap of potato chips.

Why was I hiding from her? This was insane. I could just go say hi or offer to help her get more wine down from the top shelf. But my feet wouldn't move.

I was breathing harder than I should have been, thinking through scenarios. Lu would smile when she saw me. She always did. It made me feel like she'd flicked that sunlamp on again in the center of my chest. What if she wanted to hug me again? Maybe that would be a hello thing as well as a goodbye thing since I'd let it happen the last time.

Footsteps sounded coming toward me. I stopped trying to predict the future and instead worried about the present. She must be walking up the aisle I'd just vacated.

I took my basket and bolted down the next row, careful to keep my back facing the front of the store. I could feel myself losing control of the situation. I didn't know why seeing Lu in this context—no Huber request in the vicinity—was freaking me out, but the very possibility of running into her unexpectedly was causing pressure to build in my chest.

My anxious steps carried me to the end of the aisle facing the wall of wine bottles once more. But from the corner of my eye, I saw Lu still standing there. Shit . That must have been someone else I heard walking in the other direction because my pint-sized nightmare remained there, considering the meager selection of pinot noir.

I spun around as quickly as I could, almost clipping the endcap in the process but I saw Lu turn at the movement. I made for the exit, returning the way I'd just come, ignoring the flash of surprise I'd seen along with wide gray eyes.

"Noah?" Lu's voice came from behind me.

I nearly froze, but instead, I kept walking. She didn't call out again, and when I dropped my basket in the stack by the front door, I exhaled a desperate breath. Only relief didn't come. My chest remained tight with panic, and now a layer of shame coated me in a second skin.

Why the hell had I run away from Lu?

Outside the General Store, the afternoon was mild and comfortable. The sky clear and blue behind the mountains. It was all so at odds with the turbulence I felt within.

As I walked back to my apartment, I nearly stepped off the sidewalk into the path of a cyclist. I was distracted and hated myself. I had just pretended she wasn't there because I didn't want to face her. Because maybe I cared about this girl who was practically a stranger. Because I'd missed her while she was gone and had thought about that hug more than I wanted to admit.

The surprise in the store had done something to my brain. Seeing Lu outside of the Bronco and the confines of my carefully structured life had made her . . . real. More than just someone I saw at work. More than all the things I was trying to keep separate. More than an idiot guy with a crush on his fare. More than the connection I'd been trying to ignore. Seeing her in real life took all those mores and made them true.

And I was an asshole.

She'd seen me, and I'd ignored her. I'd walked right out that door, too scared to trust myself. Too panicked over feeling anything real for anyone ever again.

It didn't take me long to figure out how to fix what I'd done regarding Lu. But I had to wait until the following day to put my plan into action.

I happened to have Friday off this week while Jimmy covered my shift. Checking the hours of operation for the farmers' market, I waited until four o'clock and then hopped in the Bronco.

I wasn't sure which booth was Lu's, but I entered the town square near where I'd picked her up last week. Foot traffic had slowed this late in the afternoon, but I still kept a vigilant watch for anyone I didn't want to run into.

Most of the people looking for autumn produce had come and gone, picking through the baskets of fresh apples and squash. Only a few of the fall bouquets remained at the florist's tent, but the vendors still greeted customers as people looked over their jewelry or handknits or canned goods.

Finally, I walked through the gazebo in the center of the space and spotted Lu in her booth. A colorful sign hung behind her head at the back of the tent. DeLuLu Designs was written in bold script, flirty and fun—just like the boss babe behind the work. The greeting card carousel was on one end of the table, while the prints were displayed on the other.

Lu was smiling and talking to two teenage girls. I hung back and waited while she bagged up their purchases and accepted their payments.

She wore the beaded friendship bracelets again, and I saw several for sale on her table as well. Her lips were that distracting shade of fire-engine red, and the wild blond hair I was obsessed with was tamed with a striped black headband with a little knot at the top.

Lu caught sight of me lingering in front of her booth as she told the two customers goodbye. Her eyes widened a little when she spotted me, but then her focus returned to the teenagers.

Maybe I'd been so fixated on gauging her reaction that no one else would have caught it. The surprise had been there and gone so fast that I almost missed the tiny wince of hurt that accompanied it.

I swallowed hard against the shame swirling in my stomach.

The two girls finally stepped away from the booth, and I approached.

Lu made a big show of looking behind me, and my guilt climbed higher into my throat. Was she going to bring up what had happened at the General Store? Was she planning on ignoring me the way I'd snubbed her?

"Hi," I managed amid some awkward throat-clearing.

Her expectant gaze found mine. "There's no Bronco attached to you. So weird."

I huffed a surprised laugh.

Lu wore a genuine grin as she watched me stand there with my hands stuffed in the pockets of my jeans. I hung on to that smile like a buoy in a storm—like a lifeline. It was forgiveness I didn't deserve.

"I was planning on calling a Huber later when I finished here. How fortuitous that you should arrive just before closing."

"Actually, it's my day off," I admitted.

"Oh." She suddenly looked embarrassed, cheeks going instantly pink as she backpedaled. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

"No," I said quickly to reassure her. "I came to see you. I wanted to get a print for my apartment. I thought if I came later in the day, I wouldn't bother you as much. And that maybe I could help you pack up and take you home."

"Oh," she repeated. The humiliated expression was slow to leave as something thoughtful settled in its place.

"That sounds good, Noah." Before I could analyze her answer or worry about how my invitation might be received, she continued, "I'm really glad you came by. I actually made something for you. For your apartment."

The smile stretched across my face before I could stop it. "For me?"

"Yep," she replied, already rummaging around in a crate beneath the table. "But you can't look at it yet. Wait until you get home."

Lu produced a flat brown paper bag with DeLuLu Designs stamped across the front. I ran my hand across the logo.

My grin turned suspicious. "Thanks. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing," she said, waving off my attempts to hand her money from my wallet. "It's a housewarming gift. Welcome to Cozy Creek and all that. Plus, my friends get free art."

"Should my friends get free rides?" I countered, tucking the package carefully under my arm and refusing to acknowledge how warm her gift made me feel.

"Hell, no," Lu said. "I'm terrified of Jimmy. I don't want him to kill me."

I laughed.

She stood suddenly and started gathering her things. "It's close enough to closing time. Come on. We can pack up, and then I'll take you to the bubble tea truck. Did you get a chance to look at the other vendors?"

"Not really. Just in passing."

"Okay, cool. I'll take you around. There's a good turnout today."

For reasons I didn't want to identify too closely, I was reluctant to admit to Lu that it was pointless for me to get more settled in Cozy Creek. I didn't need to meet people or check out local vendors if I was leaving when the opportunity arose. The thought of telling her seemed wrong. She loved this town, and I knew she wouldn't understand that someone might want to leave. Disappointing her was the last thing I wanted to do. I'd already done that enough with my erratic, unhinged behavior.

Plus, I was here to make up for the way I'd acted at the General Store, and I couldn't bring myself to dim her light by being an asshole again. I didn't want to say no anyway. I liked spending time with her, as stupid and misguided as that was. And if she wanted to take me around, then I would go.

"That would be great. Thanks, Louie Anderson."

Her answering smile was a thing of beauty.

Forcing myself to look away from those tempting red lips, I gathered the greeting cards from the rack in front of me, following Lu's lead as she packed away her merchandise. "How was your trip to New Mexico?"

"It was great. We went to Santa Fe and walked around downtown, visited the St. Francis Cathedral. Had amazing food." She paused with a handful of stickers in her grasp. "It was good for the soul, you know? Sometimes you just need to see your friends, and a video call won't cut it."

I nodded, thinking about my friends back in South Carolina. They probably thought I'd dropped off the face of the planet.

"But I was ready to be home, too. I love fall. It's my absolute favorite. I like going to all the town events—which you should really check out, by the way."

"Yeah," I agreed and passed her some prints to pack in her crates.

"Thanks for offering to take me home. On your day off and everything."

"It's no trouble. That's what friends are for," I said, the reminder feeling necessary and tasting like ash on my tongue. "You're probably eager to get your car back. How long has it been now?"

"Oh," she mumbled, reaching beneath the table to grab something. "A few weeks."

"It must have really been busted. Was it bodywork or engine work? You weren't in an accident or anything, were you?"

"No accident," she called, still busy under the table. "They're fixing something with the carburetor . . . um, shaft . . . tank."

I eyed her. Pretty sure a carburetor shaft tank wasn't a real thing, but whatever.

"Okay! All packed up!" Her cheeks were pink when she finally emerged from digging beneath the table. "Let's go look around."

Lu led me down the main aisle toward a small trailer. The sign next to the open window said Aunt Pearl's Tea Palace. I met Amari, who owned Lu's favorite beverage shop in town. The middle-aged woman was delighted to see us, especially when I asked her to make me her favorite. She bragged sweetly on Lu, whispering conspiratorially that she was the one responsible for the hand-painted sign on the side of the trailer. She'd also helped Amari with branding and marketing materials.

I slid a glance to see Lu fidgeting with her bag and avoiding the attention.

After that we ventured around to the remaining vendors. Lu introduced me to the people she knew—nearly all of the ones we passed—and had me smelling hand-poured candles and goat's milk soap and trying samples from someone selling shortbread cookies. We walked and talked and sipped our teas for half an hour before returning to Lu's table.

"You ready, pack mule?"

"Just about," I replied, pulling out my phone. I resisted the nervous desire to shove it in my pocket and forget this dumb idea. But I needed to try harder and be better where Lu was concerned. The incident at the General Store was proof of that. I could be a better friend to the girl who'd done nothing but try her best to befriend me. "Do you want to exchange numbers? That way, you don't have to call Jimmy to reach me. And I could help you carry your stuff." I could see the argument gathering on her features, so I rushed to add, "Even though I know you're used to doing it yourself, and you're a boss babe extraordinaire who is more than capable."

She nodded sagely and crossed her arms.

And then, due to my painfully obvious nervousness, I continued rambling, "Plus, you seem to know all the good restaurants in town. If you have my number, you can just invite me. I'm getting a little tired of being your sloppy seconds . . . literally. You only eat a second dinner with me after your date crashes and burns, and you usually spill something all over yourself."

"Hey," she accused through her laughter. "I'm part hobbit, okay? And I wear a lot of white. My shirts practically beg to taste my food."

I threw my head back and laughed. God, she was ridiculous. But as I straightened, my gaze traveled down her body. She was, indeed, wearing a bright white tee shirt beneath an oversized striped cardigan that matched her headband. The tee was tucked into high-waist jeans that accentuated her narrow waist. She always looked put together and gorgeous.

I cursed myself for consistently noticing her hair and her red lips and body. But I wasn't quick enough. Gray eyes and a knowing smirk awaited me when I managed to return my gaze to her face.

"Were you staring at my boobs?"

Shiiiiiiit. I could feel my ears going hot. "What? No," I denied. I hadn't just been looking at her boobs.

"Yes, you were," she accused again, but she was smiling.

"God. You can't talk about your shirt and expect me not to look."

"I know." She laughed. "I'm just giving you shit." At my glare, she added, "That's what friends do."

I breathed an internal sigh of relief. Perhaps Lu instinctively knew to use the f-word to put us back on safe ground. And thank Christ, we'd stopped talking about her boobs.

"And friends give you artwork for your apartment," I agreed.

"That you are required by law to display," Lu amended.

"That doesn't sound ominous or anything." Not for the first time, I wondered what she'd been compelled to create—something specific just for me. I itched to reach for the paper bag beneath my arm and the art print within.

Lu grinned. "You. Are. Welcome."

We loaded up all the DeLuLu wares in the back of the Bronco and made the short drive to Shady Peaks. Nothing about the day had been as panic-inducing as the surprise run-in with Lu at the General Store. This felt like every other time we'd hung out, grabbing dinner or ice cream after one of Lu's failed first dates. That same easiness, complete with teasing and laughter.

Maybe it was because I'd made a conscious decision to go to the farmers' market. She'd been the sole reason behind the outing, yet no expectations were attached. Everything was casual. I guessed a part of me liked that. Nothing about the day was a blatant shock to the system. Not if I ignored the rapid pace of my heart when Lu smiled at me. Yep, definitely not acknowledging that.

Once all the merch was safely tucked away in Lu's second bedroom, she thanked me for riding to her rescue. I could have said goodbye but lingered in her bright and cozy living room.

Before giving it too much thought, I blurted, "Do you have plans tonight?"

Lu paused in her kitchen, where she was grabbing a clean glass out of the dishwasher. "Uh, no. No plans. Just a quiet night in."

"Would you want to try the pizza-and-movie thing again?"

She watched me for a long moment, perhaps waiting to see if I'd change my mind and bolt from her presence for a third time, but this was okay. It felt safe to be all the way over here. We'd hung out plenty of times, so this wouldn't be any different. I didn't need to make it weird in my brain.

Finally, she said, "Yeah, that sounds good to me. I'm picking the movie, though."

"Fair."

"What do you like on your pizza?"

We didn't end up watching a movie after all. Lu picked a comedy television series from a decade ago that we'd both already seen but found hilarious nonetheless. We shared a ham-and-pineapple pizza and ate on the blue velvet couch.

It was all so easy. She felt like someone I'd known forever. The prospect was both comforting and terrifying.

After we finished the pizza, Lu passed me another beer, and we settled in to keep watching. We laughed amid countless throw pillows while the television played. But after a while, I noticed dwindling laughter and then, finally, quiet coming from the other end of the couch.

I turned to find Lu's head resting on the arm of the sofa and her feet tucked up beneath her. She was breathing deeply, her face soft and relaxed in sleep. The cardigan pulled snuggly around her shoulders.

Rising quietly, I snagged our bottles and emptied them in the kitchen sink. Then I walked back to the couch and grabbed the crocheted blanket draped along the back. I spread it gently over Lu's sleeping form and watched her for a minute.

I felt like I was getting really close to a line. I really hoped I wouldn't go tumbling over it. The last time I'd gotten messed up over a girl, I'd lost everything. While I really liked Lu, I needed to remember to keep some distance there—for my own sake.

Reaching down, I gently brushed back a loose curl that had fallen across her cheek. Tucking the strand behind her ear, I whispered, "Lu." I didn't want to just leave without saying anything. She didn't stir. "Hey, Tallulah. It's time for me to go." Still nothing. "Wake up, Luanne."

I heard an adorable growl before her gray eyes blinked open. "Not cool, Noah."

Fighting to hide my grin, I told her, "It's late. I need to get home but didn't want to run out on you."

She didn't sit up. Instead, she turned her body to lie flat on her back and stretched out, occupying the space I'd vacated. "I'm glad you stayed."

"Me too. It was fun," I replied, and I meant it. I'd missed Lu while she was in New Mexico. I didn't like it, but there it was.

Maybe I didn't want to let myself rely on anyone in this town because my place here felt tenuous at best.

I was the poster boy for temporary. This girl had hometown sweetheart written all over her.

But something about her kept sneaking past my defenses.

"Good night, Lu. I'll see you."

She smiled, slow and sweet, the edge of sleep trying to pull her back under. "Good night, Noah."

"Lock up after me, okay? Or I'll worry."

"I will, I promise."

I made it to the door when she called out softly, "Noah."

"Yes, Loosey Goosey?"

A sleepy grin lit up her features, and I felt a tug behind my ribs at being the one to put it there. "You know, if you moved here because you're in the mob and need a place to hide out, I promise I won't tell anyone."

I snorted. "Thanks for keeping my mob boss secret." I closed the door to the sound of her soft laughter.

A moment later, I heard the lock click into place and made my way to the parking lot.

The night air was cold in the mountains. I started the Bronco and cranked up the heat, staring out into nothing.

No, I hadn't moved to Cozy Creek because I was running from the mob or in witness protection. It wasn't because I'd inherited a haunted mansion or to study slugs or bees or any of the other ridiculous things Lu had guessed. It was nothing like that.

I'd moved here because my instincts were faulty. When I was desperate and hurting, I'd allowed myself to be taken advantage of. I'd moved to Cozy Creek for a girl—one who hadn't existed, not in any way that mattered. I got catfished by someone I thought cared about me. Instead, she'd kicked me when I was down for nothing more than her own amusement.

Six months ago, I'd met a girl online. I couldn't remember how it started or why I'd matched with someone who lived so far away from my life in South Carolina. But we'd hit it off. Virginia had been fun and interesting, and we'd bonded over living small-town lives and not always loving them.

Eventually, we got to the point where we talked every day—calling or texting, at the very least. Despite having never met in person, I considered her my girlfriend in all the ways that mattered. I wasn't interested in dating anyone else local because I was falling for this girl I'd met online.

One night in early August—just six short weeks ago—one of my help desk employees wasn't able to cover their on-call night shift at work. I'd said I would do it. It wasn't a big deal. Smith Foods was a big corporation, and someone always had to be on call in the office to monitor sensors and warnings and assist store managers in case emergencies cropped up.

I'd arrived at the office to find an issue already in progress, blinking at the top of the alert screen. But Kayleigh, the help desk employee I was relieving, said she'd handled it. Everything was good to go and she'd passed along my direct office number for the store manager to follow up if there were any further issues. There hadn't been. And the main bullpen where tickets came into a bank of monitors was quiet, aside from the flashing alert Kayleigh had handled.

So I'd retreated to my office. Virginia texted and asked for a video call, and I'd figured why not. We'd talked for hours. Virginia told me about her day and an event she was helping her mother put together. She loved sharing her day-to-day with me, and even though we hadn't discussed meeting in person, things felt like they were moving in the right direction.

The night passed quickly, and it wasn't until almost three in the morning that Virginia noticed the time and said she needed to go to bed. We'd said good night, and I'd logged off.

When I'd stepped back out into the bullpen, I noticed the prior alert still flashing. When I looked closer, the issue that Kayleigh took care of before leaving had actually dropped down as complete—hours ago, right after I'd come on shift. The currently blinking ticket had come in immediately after, and I'd missed it, thinking it was the one handled by my employee.

The red flashing alert at the top of the queue was for a refrigerator sensor that detected a significant temperature drop nearly seven hours ago. If I'd noticed the issue right away, I could have notified a field tech in the area. But one hundred and twenty miles away from that rural supermarket, I'd been on a call with my girlfriend and had missed the fucking alert. I'd scrambled at that point, in panic mode. Contacting the store manager had been too late.

The following day, I'd been called into the help desk director's office and fired for my negligence. It hadn't just been a deli cooler or a single freezer that had lost power. The Smith Foods grocery store in Landrum, South Carolina, had their entire stock room refrigeration unit go down due to a bad compressor. I'd missed the alert and hadn't dispatched an on-call technician, and they'd lost tens of thousands of dollars in food.

They'd been right to fire me. I'd cost my company a shit ton of money and liability just so I could talk to my girlfriend.

Completely shell-shocked and wrecked, I'd told Virginia what had happened. Without employment in my hometown, I'd floated the idea of moving closer to her to look for work. A long-distance relationship couldn't last forever, and I'd wanted to be near her.

She'd seemed excited about the future, but when I finally arrived, the truth of our very one-sided relationship came to light. Virginia had been playing games. Lying and reeling me in for her own twisted entertainment.

When everything had fallen apart, I'd come to Cozy Creek seeking solace and a new beginning. What I'd gotten was a dead end.

I was an idiot, and I had nothing left because I'd been too stupid to see what was right in front of me. I couldn't afford to make the same mistake again.

Reminding myself to be careful where Lu was concerned, I put the Bronco in gear and drove back to my apartment above the bakery.

Hurrying up the back staircase, I unlocked my door and went inside. The paper bag beneath my arm crinkled as I held the DeLuLu Designs bag out in front of me.

I gripped the thick matte and pulled it from the bag, but it wasn't a print like I suspected—like what Lu typically produced. This was watercolor paper and brushstrokes and delicate hand-painted lines. A one-of-a-kind original artwork that was all mine. Why had she done that? Why had Lu made something special just for me?

And then I let my focus zoom out to take in the whole of the painting. My laughter came out in a sharp bark.

Despite the harsh reminder I'd just issued myself, I wondered how I was supposed to resist this girl when she was so . . . everything.

Carrying my new artwork into the bedroom, I propped it up on top of the dresser for the time being. I'd grab a frame for it and hang it soon.

I fought another chuckle as I stared at the cheerful colors and fancy script that read: Live, Laugh, Love.