The Cinnamon Bun Book Store (Dream Harbor, #2)(50)

It would be even cuter here in the fall, she thought. She could imagine all the be-flanneled Dream Harbor residents making the short drive to enjoy the changing leaves and a hard cider.

‘Cold?’ Noah asked, already unzipping his hoodie.

‘Oh, no, I’m fine.’

‘Full of lies tonight, Haze,’ he said with a teasing smile. He came around to her side of the table and draped the sweatshirt over her shoulders. It was big and warmed from his body and Hazel couldn’t help but snuggle into it.

It was completely absurd, but no boy, or man as the case may be, had ever given her their sweatshirt or jacket or even a damn scarf to keep her warm. And it was equally absurd how freaking happy she felt now that she had Noah’s.

He rubbed a hand over her back, creating more heat with the friction and his nearness.

‘Better?’

Hazel smiled at him like the besotted idiot that she was. ‘Much.’ Her inner nerdy teenager was shrieking obnoxiously in her head. The cutest guy in town had given her his sweatshirt and she could barely stand it.

Good thing she was a mature, grown woman, though, and was totally keeping it together on the outside. Probably. She couldn’t really tell what her face was doing.

Noah wrapped an arm around her as he finished his beer and Hazel let herself lean into his side. She was sure there was a Dreamer or two around here somewhere and the rumors would beat them back to town, but she really didn’t seem to care.

For all the energy she put into wondering what people thought about her, whispers about her and Noah didn’t bother her at all.

Maybe because you really like him and he seems to like you and why wouldn’t you want the whole damn town to know?!

God, that inner voice was really getting sassy.

‘You’re never getting this sweatshirt back, by the way.’

Noah laughed. ‘Okay, consider it a HANSOF souvenir.’

Hazel’s dreamy you’ve-got-a-crush-on-a-boy thoughts stuttered to a stop. A souvenir. A souvenir to remember something that had a hard end date like a vacation.

‘Yep. Exactly.’ She finished off her cider and focused on the intricate artwork on the can instead of on Noah’s words and his arms and his absurdly cozy sweatshirt.

This thing was temporary. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? Hazel honestly didn’t know anymore.

‘Hey, can I show you something?’

Hazel glanced up and found Noah looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

‘Sure.’

‘Great, let’s get out of here.’

They gathered up their trash and headed back across the gravel lot to Noah’s car. Hazel held tight to the too-big sleeves of his hoodie and the very important fact that this thing between them was just some reckless fun.





‘Um ... ta da?’ Noah flipped on the battery-powered lantern he kept by the door, illuminating the small space.

‘Noah, where are we... Wait, do you live here?’ Hazel glanced up at him and she looked so small and sweet wrapped in his sweatshirt he had to look away or he might just kiss her and forget his whole plan to tell her about, well, about his whole plan.

‘Sort of,’ he huffed a laugh. ‘Don’t tell your dad. I’m not actually sure this isn’t all very illegal.’

Hazel’s eyebrows rose. ‘Oh, it’s definitely illegal.’ They were standing in his partially renovated beach cottage, the one he hadn’t actually paid for or got any sort of permission to work on or live in... Maybe bringing her here was a mistake.

Another impulsive idea. Just like dropping out of school, just like leaving home, just like getting involved with this woman. The one that was currently staring at him like he was insane and possibly a criminal.

Shit. He shouldn’t have brought her here. He’d just simultaneously blown up this thing between them and his crazy plan in one dumb move. Was it too late to reverse course? Just lie about the whole thing?

‘But it’s beautiful,’ she said, cutting off his thoughts.

‘It is?’

‘Of course. Noah, it’s gorgeous in here. Did you do all this?’ She ran a hand over the butcher block countertops he’d put in the kitchenette. Her gaze traced over the tiny house and he followed along as she took in all the work he’d done. The floors he’d refinished, the ceiling he’d patched after he fixed the roof, the walls he’d painted, the windows he’d replaced. She took the lantern with her, shining the light on his work. Noah had never been good at sitting still and this little house had become his hobby in his downtime. It did look pretty good, actually, if he was being honest with himself.

Even better as he watched the look on Hazel’s face.

‘Uh ... yeah. I mean, I had an idea to do the others, too. And then maybe do like a short-term rental thing...’

Her eyes lit up. ‘Noah, that’s a great idea. People would love these! And it’s like staying in a little piece of history. Oh, my gosh, we could look up who built them and when, and what they were used for in the past. We could put little plaques on each one!’ She was walking the perimeter as she spoke, past the chair he’d found at the flea market and the mattress he’d piled with extra pillows he’d found on his last trip to the home-goods store. Pillows he’d bought for her as he pictured her in his bed.

She finished her lap and was standing in front of him again in the little kitchen where he’d stalled out next to the front door, listening to her be excited for him, listening to her use the word we when she talked about future ideas for the houses.