The Cinnamon Bun Book Store (Dream Harbor, #2)(11)

Hazel had no siblings unless you counted her mother’s two French bulldogs, Diego and Frida, which her mother definitely did. She taught art at the middle school and was known for the often scandalous, always nude, sculptures she made in her spare time.

‘Middle-schoolers are rough. I don’t know how she does it.’

‘Your mother loves a challenge.’

‘Hmm. I guess so.’ Hazel smiled at the new waitress as she set a heaping plate of pancakes in front of her. ‘Thank you.’

‘Mayor Kelly.’ Her father stuck out his hand as soon as the woman’s hands were empty. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met.’ He smiled his biggest smile and Hazel bit down on her lip at how delightfully nerdy her father was.

The woman smiled back and took his hand. ‘Maribel. Nice to meet you.’

‘Are you new to town?’

‘Yes. We moved in a few weeks ago.’

‘And how are you finding things so far?’

‘Very well, thanks.’

Hazel tuned out her father’s welcome speech as she dug into her breakfast. She already knew the ins and outs of Dream Harbor plenty well by now. But Maribel seemed pleased with the chat as she moved on to take Dot and Norman’s order, who were snuggled up together in the next booth over.

‘You know you can’t know every single person in this town, right?’

Her dad smiled indulgently, cutting into his omelet. ‘I can try.’

‘Dad, do you ever feel ... I don’t know ... stuck?’

He paused with a forkful of omelet halfway to his mouth. He lowered his fork. ‘Sure. Sometimes everyone feels that way, I think. Why? Is everything alright?’

Hazel waved his concern away with a hand. ‘It’s nothing serious. Just been feeling, I don’t know ... restless.’

Her father smiled, resuming his eating. ‘Sounds like you just need a fun summer,’ he said between bites.

A fun summer.

I woulda kept kissing you.

Noah’s words echoed through her brain like they had been all night. She felt the heat rush to her face. She loved her dad, but she certainly wasn’t going to discuss that type of fun summer with him.

‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’

‘Of course I’m right. I’m your dad.’

Hazel smirked, shoveling in the last of her pancakes. ‘Right. Okay, well I gotta get to work.’ She slid out of the booth and planted a kiss on her father’s cheek. ‘Love you.’

‘Love you.’ Her father waved goodbye as she left and by the time she was outside he’d already joined his deputy mayor, Mindy, and her best friend, Tammy, at the next table over. Hazel smiled at them through the window. Her father never tired of talking to people.

It was a warm morning, but not hot yet, and Hazel let herself appreciate the early sun on her face. The walk to the bookstore was short, and even with a stop at the café for her new favorite apple cider iced tea, Hazel was early. The store wasn’t supposed to open for another half hour which made it all the more surprising to find a certain fisherman propped against her emerald green door.

‘Noah.’

A slow grin crossed his face and Hazel clutched her iced tea tighter. Protection against that smile.

‘Hey,’ he said, all low and deep, the sound vibrating through her in that way that made her lose all coherent thought.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’

‘Of course I’m okay.’ She sounded grumpier than she meant to, but she was not prepared to face Noah yet, certainly not after last night. She was hoping to avoid him for at least a week or two. Or possibly forever.

‘Well, last night you seemed...’

‘I’m fine. I just need to get to work.’ She gestured toward the door where he was still leaning and blocking her escape.

‘Right, sorry, I just thought...’

He shuffled out of the way and Hazel unlocked the door, but she couldn’t very well slam it in his face, so she had no choice but to let him follow her in.

‘Was this place always called The Cinnamon Bun Bookstore?’ he asked, following along behind her.

‘Nope.’

‘Why’d you change it?’

‘The owner likes to keep things fresh.’

‘So ... are there cinnamon buns?’ he asked, hope clear in his voice.

Hazel bit down on a smile. ‘Every Sunday morning.’ It was Hazel’s favorite thing about the rebranding; the smell of cinnamon and sugar every Sunday made working on the weekends a pleasure.

‘How did I not know this?’

Hazel shrugged. ‘It’s kinda new.’

‘Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were all right,’ he tried again and Hazel turned to face him. The morning sun highlighted gold streaks in his copper hair. He had a sunburn across his nose and cheeks but somehow he looked healthy and sexy instead of like a giant crustacean as she usually did. He had an uncharacteristically worried crease between his brows.

She sighed. He looked genuinely concerned about her. ‘I’m fine. Really.’

His gaze raked over her like he was assessing for damage, like somehow after he left her house last night, she’d managed to fall down a well or something. Her first big reckless night and Hazel had set off alarm bells in two of the men in her life. And she hadn’t even left the garden. A clear sign that she had been living far too safely for the past twenty-nine years.