9. Tori
TORI
T he door chimed as I crossed the threshold, balancing coffee cups and a bakery bag.
The comforting, familiar smell of espresso mixed with the sweet aroma of croissants filled the shop, and it made me smile.
Today, the whole place seemed wrapped in a cozy blanket of warmth and sweetness that eased some of the lingering tension in my shoulders.
“You’re here early,” Candy noted, a raised eyebrow accompanying her teasing smirk.
I set the coffee and croissants on the counter, fighting the heat in my cheeks. I knew what was coming.
“New stock coming in,” I replied.
Candy’s gaze darted to the bakery bag, her eyes widening in delighted realization.
“Oh, you did not just bring croissants from that place in the city,” she said, glancing at the famous bakery logo. “This place has lines out the door every morning! Let me guess, your boyfriend dropped these off?”
“His driver did,” I admitted, my cheeks feeling even warmer.
The word "boyfriend" still felt unfamiliar, strange, and somehow thrilling on my tongue.
But even as I said it, the memory of Cole’s thoughtfulness brightened my morning further.
The idea of him arranging for this little surprise felt unexpectedly intimate, and I wasn’t quite used to it.
Candy reached for the bag, biting into a croissant and rolling her eyes with a moan of appreciation.
“Oh, wow. I get it now. This is why people go nuts. Cole Valen, unexpectedly thoughtful and with great taste in pastries,” Candy said.
I chuckled. “There’s coffee for you, too. He sent enough for both of us,” I said.
Candy was still savoring her first bite, giving me a playful wink.
“Well, I’m just saying… you’re one lucky woman,” Candy said.
It was the word lucky that grounded me back to reality.
Lucky, I was sure, was the last thing I was when it came to romantic history.
The ghost of that thought lingered even as Candy moved behind the counter to set up for the day.
I watched her, grateful for her presence but ready to take a step back.
“Hey, can you handle the shop for a bit? I’ll be in the back,” I said.
She nodded, still wearing a knowing smile.
“Take your time. I’ll hold down the fort,” Candy assured me.
With my coffee in hand, I headed to my makeshift office—a small, cramped room tucked at the back of the store.
It was really just a glorified broom closet, but I’d turned it into my own little hideaway.
Once inside, I shut the door and took a long, steadying sip of coffee, letting the warmth ground me.
Despite the comforting surroundings, I couldn’t ignore the anxiety gnawing at me.
I hadn’t told Candy about Marcus’s appearance last night.
I didn’t want the pity, and the truth was, I wasn’t sure I could handle anyone’s concern about something I’d spent years trying to put behind me.
But here I was, drawn back to it like some dark, twisted magnet.
Setting my coffee down, I reached for my laptop, pulling up the security feed from last night.
Oakridge Bay was a small town, and my instincts were sharp enough to know when something felt off.
There, on the grainy footage, was Marcus, leaning too close to the register, his smile as slick as ever, a bouquet in hand.
My stomach clenched as I watched, unable to look away from his face, that all-too-familiar expression of possessiveness and smugness.
It had been five years. But for Marcus, it might as well have been yesterday.
I zoomed in, my finger lingering over the screen as I scrolled through the footage again.
My heart rate spiked when I spotted him—the customer who’d walked in right after.
I remembered the relief I’d felt then, an outsider breaking up the suffocating tension Marcus had created.
Now, I wasn’t so sure.
He’d been browsing the racks, acting casual, but I zoomed in closer, a familiar gnawing suspicion worming its way in.
He’d pulled out his phone while standing near the counter, holding it to his ear as he browsed.
The image was slightly grainy, but I knew I could get a better look.
I’d been paranoid about investing in good security equipment when I opened this place, memories of Marcus too fresh in my mind to ignore.
And now, it seemed, that paranoia was paying off.
I zoomed in until I could make out the faintest outline of his lips moving.
Most of his conversation was inaudible, just the muffled static of a distant voice on the other end.
But then, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, but I caught a single word. Cole.
My stomach twisted. This man—whoever he was—had been talking about Cole. About me.
I leaned back, processing the unsettling discovery. It made no sense. Could he really have been working for Cole?
The thought made my blood run cold. Maybe I was overreacting, but every instinct screamed that something was wrong.
You’re jumping to conclusions, I tried to tell myself. Cole wouldn’t do this. He’s been honest with you….
But Marcus’s face in the footage refused to leave me.
And somehow, knowing Marcus had his eyes on me again made every other piece fall into a sinister puzzle.
It was too easy to assume Cole’s world, the one filled with power and influence, came without complications.
I picked up my phone, fingers hovering over the screen. There were so many ways to go about this.
To push this thought away and wait for Cole to explain. Or to confront him, point-blank, demanding answers.
But the unease bubbling inside me was too real. I couldn’t ignore it. I opened our chat, tapping out a brief message.
Tori: Call me when you’re free.
It was only a matter of minutes before my phone lit up with his name.
The sight of it sent a rush of relief through me, but my gut still twisted with uncertainty.
I swiped to answer, my voice as steady as I could manage.
“Hey, Tori,” Cole greeted me, his voice warm and familiar.
There was that familiar ache, the part of me that wanted to believe in him wholeheartedly, to trust without hesitation.
“Hi,” I replied, clearing my throat. I wanted to ease into it, but the words spilled out. “Did you...have someone watching me last night?”
There was a long pause, and I could almost hear the shift in his tone as he realized the weight of my question.
“Why do you ask?” Cole asked.
I swallowed. “There was a man in the store after Marcus showed up. At first, I thought he was a customer, but now I’m not so sure,” I said.
He didn’t answer right away, and my heart began to pound harder, waiting for his response.
Finally, he sighed, and there was something in his voice—a mixture of regret and resolve.
“Yes, Tori. I did,” Cole admitted. “Aden is a security specialist I hired once I heard your ex was in town.”
I felt a pang in my chest, my fingers tightening around the phone.
"So you don’t trust me to handle things on my own?" I demanded, my voice rising as fury surged through me.
I could hardly believe it—he thought I was so incapable, so helpless, that I needed…what, a bodyguard?
I took a sharp breath, trying to steady the anger heating my skin. How dare he?
I’d worked so hard to build my life back up, to prove—to myself, if no one else—that I could stand on my own two feet.
And here he was, just assuming I couldn’t manage without his help.
“No,” he replied, his voice firm yet gentle.
He continued, “It’s not about trusting you; it’s about not trusting him. Marcus is dangerous, Tori. I had someone dig into his past—he’s been charged with assault before, and there are rumors he’s done worse. I’m not willing to take any chances if he’s anywhere near you. I’m going to make sure you’re safe.”
My heart softened at the protectiveness in his voice.
Still, the anger, the old feeling of being watched, of losing control over my own life, was still there.
“Cole, I thought… I thought you’d respect my boundaries,” I said.
“I do. But I can’t stand by and do nothing while he’s trying to worm his way back into your life. This isn’t about controlling you—it’s about keeping you safe,” Cole told me.
My anger wavered, caught between my instincts to protect myself and the warmth of his intentions.
There was no malice in his voice, only a raw honesty I hadn’t expected.
The lines I’d drawn around myself, the barriers I’d spent years carefully constructing, suddenly felt… unnecessary.
Those walls, the ones that had kept me safe and hidden, seemed to waver, like maybe they weren’t as essential as I’d once believed.
For the first time in so long, I could imagine letting someone in—letting him in—and it didn’t feel terrifying. It felt oddly liberating.
But then, like clockwork, doubt crept in, weaving through my mind. Was I letting my guard down too quickly?
Was I being na?ve, foolishly hopeful that Cole could truly be the opposite of Marcus?
How could I be sure he wasn’t just another mistake waiting to happen?
I hesitated, gripping tightly to my reservations, the ghosts of my past whispering to stay cautious.
Yet, there was another voice, softer but persistent, gently urging, Give him a chance.
It was a quiet but insistent reminder, stirring beneath my frustration, urging me to push aside my instincts to keep everyone at arm’s length.
Cole had done nothing to earn my mistrust, yet here I was, ready to build walls.
Maybe it was time I didn’t give in to the impulse to protect myself by shutting him out.
I took a deep breath, loosening my grip on the phone.
“Okay,” I murmured, the word barely audible, but even that tiny agreement felt like a step in his direction.
I wouldn’t let this slide completely; I deserved a say in the way Cole protected me. This wasn’t over.
I intended to set clear boundaries with him. I wanted openness, honesty, even if it was uncomfortable for both of us.
Cole had to understand that trust went both ways.
“Thank you for understanding,” Cole said, a hint of relief in his voice.
Then he paused, seeming to consider something.
“Actually… I was wondering if you’d be up for a little getaway this weekend. My family is having a gathering at our lake house out in Silverwood Pines, just outside Willow Creek. It’s beautiful this time of year, especially by the water. I’d love for you to come with me.”
I felt the warmth of his invitation settle into me.
The thought of seeing him in that setting—someplace that meant so much to him, with the people who were closest to him—both thrilled and terrified me.
That soft voice inside nudged again, urging me to step a little further out from behind my walls.
“Okay,” I whispered.