Chapter 9
Grace
The chime above the Sugar & Spice door jingled as Grace stepped inside, and the scent hit her instantly—warm vanilla, melted butter, cinnamon drifting on the air. It felt like stepping into a hug. A hug she desperately needed.
The bakery was busy. People chatted in line, kids pressed hands against the glass, and Hannah moved behind the counter like she was conducting an orchestra of pastries. The sound, the warmth, the bustle—this was where she wanted to be. Not in Luke’s arms. Not after last night’s ugliness. Here.
Hannah looked up and smiled. “There she is.”
Grace managed a return smile. It felt thin at the edges.
Hannah slid a coffee and a flaky raspberry Danish toward her.
Grace wrapped both hands around the cup, staring down at the steam. “The guy I mentioned before?”
Hannah stilled. “Yeah?”
Grace forced a little laugh. “You were right. He was just looking for a fling. I probably should’ve ended things the first time he didn’t want to be seen in public with me.”
Her family weren’t bad people. They'd just been thoughtless. Petty theft, some vandalism. Nothing that would've been more than a footnote somewhere else. Here it had become the whole story. And Grace had spent her entire childhood trying to write a different one in the margins.
Hannah’s expression hardened. “You deserve someone who shouts from rooftops to be with you,” Hannah said.
Grace stared at her coffee. “Some people don’t like heights, I guess,” she said.
Hannah studied her. “If you need anything—company, distraction, baked solace—just say the word.”
Grace sighed. “Thanks. Really. But I’m good.”
Hannah didn’t believe her. Grace could tell. But she didn’t push.
“Okay,” Hannah said finally, tapping the counter. “Then take an extra Danish. On the house. Consider it a breakup survival tool.”
Grace’s throat felt tight. “You don’t have to—”
“I insist.” Hannah set it into a box with practiced care. “Heartbreak really burns through calories, so it’s probably a nutritional necessity.”
Grace laughed weakly.
She took the box and turned to leave. The bell jingled once more as she stepped outside, sunlight catching in her hair.
For a few seconds, she let herself imagine that maybe someday someone might shout from rooftops just to stand beside her.
The thing about a small town was that it remembered everything. The ledger never quite balanced in Crystal Lake's accounting.
She didn’t look at the police cruiser passing by on Main Street.
She didn’t have to.
She felt it like a bruise anyway.
Grace let herself into the house with her shoulder, juggling the pastry box and her tote while the door swung shut behind her with a soft click.
The house was quiet. Familiar, comforting quiet. She exhaled, shoulders sagging, and set the Sugar & Spice box on the counter.
She turned toward the living room.
And stopped dead.
Her brother was sitting on her couch like he belonged there.
Boots off, feet in socks propped on her coffee table. Jacket tossed over the armrest. Dark hair longer than she remembered, curling at the nape of his neck. He looked thinner, too—harder around the edges in a way that made something twist low in her chest.
And he was sporting a very noticeable black eye.
“Hey, Gracie,” Eli Hart said cheerfully.
Grace dropped her tote.
It hit the floor with a dull thud, but she barely noticed. She crossed the room in three quick strides and grabbed his face in both hands before he could stand.
“Jesus Christ,” she breathed. “Eli.”
He winced. “Ow. Okay. Still tender.”
Her fingers were already gentle, tilting his head this way and that, inspecting the angry purple bloom under his eye. “What happened?”
He shrugged, one corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked grin she’d known her entire life. “The usual. The wrong crowd. Some bad decisions.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
She dropped her hands, heart pounding, a thousand questions scrambling for the front of her throat. “You’re hurt,” she said weakly.
“Was,” he corrected. “Past tense. I’m fine.”
She stared at him, taking in the rest—scrapes on his knuckles, a split lip, the exhaustion sitting heavy behind his eyes.
“You don’t call. You send exactly three texts a year,” she said, the words wobbling despite her best effort. “And now you’re just… here. With a black eye.”
Eli stood then. He was her big brother, solid in that familiar way, but when he looked at her, the bravado slipped just enough for her to see the wear underneath.
“I need to lay low,” he said. “Figured Crystal Lake was the last place anyone would look. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind—”
Grace didn’t hesitate. Not even a second.
“Of course you can stay here.”
Relief flashed across his face before he could stop it. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “You didn’t even ask how long.”
“I don’t care how long,” she said. “You’re family.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh. “You’re my little sister. I should be the one looking out for you.”
She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle. He froze for half a beat—then melted into it, arms coming around her, holding her tight.
For a moment, Grace forgot everything else.
The heartbreak. The ache. The careful way she’d been holding herself together all day.
Eli hugged her like he meant it. Like she was enough.
“You okay, Gracie?” he murmured into her hair, voice softer now.
Her throat burned. She nodded against him. “Yeah.”
It was a lie. But it was a survivable one.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes narrowing with big-brother scrutiny. “You don’t look okay.”
She swiped at her face and forced a smile. “Long day. First graders and… life.”
“Ah,” he said knowingly. “Life’ll do it.”
She glanced at his eye again, worry clawing back in. “You really should ice that.”
He sighed, surrendering. “Okay, okay. Ice. But only because you look like you might fight me if I say no.”
She snorted despite herself and stepped away, heading for the freezer. As she grabbed a bag of frozen peas, she glanced back at him.
“You hungry?” she asked, nodding toward the pastry box on the counter. “I’ve got a raspberry Danish with your name on it.”
His grin widened, genuine this time. “God, I missed you.”
Grace smiled, something warm and steady settling in her chest.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Me too.”
Grace locked her front door and stood on the small porch for a second longer than usual. Inside, Eli was still asleep on her couch. He’d insisted he was fine, that he just needed a day or two to regroup.
But black eyes didn’t come from nothing. Neither did the way he’d flinched when a car backfired down the street last night.
She adjusted her tote on her shoulder and turned—
—and froze.
Luke stood near the curb, one hand resting on the roof of his cruiser. Uniform crisp. Badge catching the morning light.
Her heart leapt. Traitorous. Immediate.
Luke pushed off the cruiser and started toward her.
Maybe he’d come to apologize. Maybe more that apologize. Maybe he’d realized he did want her.
“Grace,” he said, stopping a few feet away.
They stood there, the space between them humming. It felt like standing on the edge of something. Grace was ready to jump, as long as Luke was there with her.
Luke cleared his throat. “Listen, about how we left things—” He shifted, then said, “I’ve been thinking.”
It was dizzying, how quickly the hope she’d packed away came rushing back, reckless and bright.
“About us.”
Her breath caught. This was it.
“We could go to dinner,” Luke said.
The world tipped. For a breathless second she felt weightless, like the ground had vanished beneath her feet and she was flying.
A date. With Luke. A smile tugged at her mouth. Genuine. Unguarded.
This was what she’d asked for. What she’d wanted so badly it had hurt. She hadn’t been wrong about him. Not really. It had just taken a day for him to—
“I know a place,” he continued. “One town over. Somewhere where nobody knows us.”
The joy collapsed in on itself, sharp and sudden. She hit the ground without bracing. Grace felt it in her ribs, like something giving way.
“One town over,” she repeated. The smile slid off her face.
Luke nodded. “No running into anyone.”
This wasn’t him choosing her.
This was him moving her out of sight. Out of town. Out of the way.
A bitter laugh slipped out before she could stop it.
He hesitated, looking unsure for the first time. “So… is that a yes?”
Grace looked at him. At the uniform. The badge. Officer Luke Bennett of Crystal Lake.
Being with him had been amazing. It had made her feel amazing. Now it just made her feel small.
“I’m not interested in dinner out of town,” she said calmly. “Thank you, though.”
Luke sighed. “Grace, I’m trying here. I’m offering something.”
She looked at his face. She could keep sleeping with him. That was easy. She could fall into bed with him whenever he came knocking.
But she wouldn’t do that to herself. Not when she’d spent her whole life proving to herself and to this town that she was worthy.
“That’s not enough for me,” she said.
She couldn’t treat herself like that. Not now she knew what he really thought of her.
Luke blinked. “Not enough?”
It was fair. She wasn’t enough for Luke, and what Luke was offering wasn’t enough for her.
“No,” she repeated, steadier now. “I’m not interested in being your secret. Not anymore.”
Her chest ached. God, it ached.
“Maybe Crystal Lake will always see me as garbage. Maybe some people will never think I’m someone that is worth their respect.” She held his gaze. “But I am. And as long as I know that, that’s enough for me.”
She stepped around him, moving toward the sidewalk. Toward school. Toward the life where she was Miss Hart. Beloved. Trusted. Wanted.
“Grace,” Luke called after her.
She tuned back.
“You’re right,” she said, and surprised herself with how calm she sounded. “It was just sex.”
Something crossed his face—shock, maybe. Uncertainty. But she didn’t wait for him to sort it out.
Grace adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder.
“I hope you have a good day,” she added, polite as a stranger. “Officer Bennett.”
And then she turned and walked away.