Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 39414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
I keep close—half a step behind, half a step to the side—making sure she stays in my line of sight.
“You can grab what you need,” I say quietly. “Fast.”
Ellie snaps on a light. The room brightens, revealing shelves of cocoa, sugar, molds, packaging. Her apron hangs on a hook like it’s waiting for her to come back.
Her jaw tightens.
She moves toward the storage closet, but the door is padlocked.
“Son of a—” She catches herself, then hisses, “He locked the storage too.”
My hands curl into fists.
Levi strolls in behind us like he wasn’t just threatened with death by stir stick. “Wow. Banker ex is thorough.”
Ellie whips around. “Get out.”
Levi holds up his hands. “Fine. I’m out. But first—” He points toward a box of truffles on the counter. “One.”
Ellie’s eyes blaze. “No.”
Levi looks to me like I’m the judge. “Wyatt.”
I stare at him.
Levi grins. “That’s a yes.”
Sadie appears in the doorway, eyes on Levi. “Levi.”
Levi sighs dramatically. “Okay, okay. I’m leaving. This town is so hostile to heroes.”
He backs out.
Ellie turns back to the padlock like she wants to rip it off with her hands. “My inventory. My—” Her voice catches. “My ledger is in there.”
I step close enough that my chest almost brushes her back. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need my clothes,” she snaps, because it’s easier than admitting she needs anything else.
“Clothes,” I repeat.
“And my paperwork,” she adds, quieter. “My supplier contracts. My—” She swallows hard. “Everything.”
I lean in. “We’ll get it.”
Ellie’s shoulders lift, tense. “You keep saying that like you can just—”
“I can,” I cut in.
She turns, face inches from mine, anger and fear sharp in her eyes. “You can’t fix this with your firefighter voice.”
My gaze drops to her mouth. “I can fix a lot with my voice.”
Ellie’s breath catches. Her cheeks flush.
She hates that she reacts.
I like that she reacts.
I don’t let myself show it. I step back and pull my phone out. “Saxon’s getting the sheriff to serve the bank with a request for access. In the meantime, you grab whatever you can from the open shelves. Anything you can’t replace.”
Ellie swallows. “Wyatt—”
“Move,” I say, firm.
She glares, but she moves—grabbing boxes, tossing them into a tote like she’s in triage mode. The flannel sleeve slides up her arm and I get a glimpse of skin. My attention snags. My control strains.
Sadie steps in, calm and efficient, helping Ellie stack items. “Take the high-value inventory first. Truffles. Gift boxes. Anything sealed.”
Ellie nods, jaw tight. “Thank you.”
Sadie’s gaze flicks to Ellie’s face. “You don’t owe anyone thanks for helping you stay alive.”
Ellie’s throat works.
Then the front bell—still installed because apparently Graham didn’t think to remove joy—jingles softly.
I freeze.
My head turns toward the front of the shop.
Levi’s voice echoes faintly from the sales floor. “Oh. Ohhh. We’ve got a visitor.”
Ellie’s hand tightens on a tote strap. “Who—”
I’m already moving.
I step into the main shop, and the sight hits like a match struck in gasoline.
Graham stands by the display case like he belongs there.
Polished suit. Perfect hair. Hands in his pockets like he’s browsing chocolates and not destroying Ellie’s life. He looks calm, charming—exactly the kind of man people believe. The kind of man who ruins you with paperwork and a smile.
Mrs. Hargrove will love this.
Graham’s gaze lands on Ellie in the flannel behind me, and his mouth curves.
“Sweetheart,” he says, warm as poison.
Ellie stiffens.
My body steps in before my brain finishes forming words. I close the space so fast Ellie’s breath audibly catches behind me. I plant myself between her and Graham like a wall.
“Wrong name,” I say.
Graham’s eyes flick over me—slow, assessing—then he smiles wider. “Wyatt. Right?”
Levi leans against a shelf, grinning like he’s watching live theater. Sadie stands to the side, quiet and dangerous.
Ellie tries to step around me. I shift, blocking her without looking back.
“Don’t,” I murmur, low enough only she can hear.
Ellie’s breath hits my shoulder. “Wyatt—”
“I’ve got this,” I say.
Graham’s gaze darts to Ellie again. “I’m just here to talk.”
Ellie’s voice cuts through, sharp. “You’re here to intimidate.”
Graham lifts his hands in a placating gesture that makes me want to break them. “Ellie, come on. You know me.”
I laugh once, no humor in it. “I know men like you.”
Graham’s eyes narrow, just slightly. The mask wobbles, then resets. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“It does,” I say, calm.
Graham’s smile returns, brittle. “Why? Because you’re playing hero?”
Ellie’s hand grips my forearm behind me like she’s anchoring herself. The contact lights up my skin.
I keep my voice even. “Because she’s my wife.”
The shop goes quiet.
Even Levi stops breathing for a second.
Ellie’s fingers tighten on my arm like she’s going to argue—and then she doesn’t. She stays behind me, silent, which is the loudest thing she could do right now.
Graham’s gaze flicks to Ellie’s hand on my arm, then to the flannel, then back to my face. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.