Chapter 1 #2
And just like that, my carefully controlled Wednesday spirals into something I didn't plan for. Something that smells like citrus and feels like sunlight, and something that terrifies me more than I want to admit.
"All right," I hear myself say. "Diner at noon."
Piper's smile could light the whole bakery. I return to my rosettes and try to ignore the way my hands aren't quite as steady as they were ten minutes ago.
The Corner Diner sits on Main Street as if it's been there since Valentine, Montana, was founded, probably because it has.
The building is a classic American-style diner, with chrome accents, red vinyl booths, and a neon sign in the window that flickers between OPEN and OPN depending on its mood.
Through the glass, I can see the checkered floors and long counter with spinning stools that appear to have supported a thousand coffee-fueled conversations.
I hold the door open for Maddie, then Piper. My hand hovers near the small of her back without quite touching, and I feel the almost-contact like heat through my shirt.
"Fair warning," Evan says as he follows us inside, "everyone in here is going to know your business by the time we leave."
"Evan," I say in a warning tone.
"What? I'm helping her adjust to small-town life. It's a public service."
The diner smells like coffee, bacon grease, and something cinnamon that makes my stomach growl. Rosie, behind the counter, looks up as we enter, and her face transforms into pure delight.
"Dylan Hayes," she calls out. "And you brought the princess! Come here, baby girl."
Maddie breaks away from me and runs toward the counter. "Miss Rosie!"
Rosie comes around the counter and scoops Maddie into a hug that lifts her feet off the ground. She's probably in her sixties, with steel-gray hair pulled into a neat bun and eyes that look like they don't miss much.
"And who is this?" Rosie asks, looking directly at Piper with the kind of interest that feels both warm and deeply invasive.
"Piper," she says, stepping forward to offer her hand. "I'm here for the Heart-to-Heart Festival. I’m doing promotional content."
Rosie shakes her hand but doesn't let go right away. She studies Piper with the thoroughness of someone conducting an interview. "Content? That means videos and such?"
"Yes, ma'am. Photos, reels, and behind-the-scenes footage."
"And you'll be spending time at the bakery." It's not a question.
"That's the plan."
Rosie glances at me, then back at Piper. A slow smile spreads across her face. "Well, isn't that interesting?"
"Rosie," I say, and there's a pleading note in my voice I'ven't heard from myself in years.
"I'm not saying anything," Rosie replies innocently, she says as she lifts her hand in the air in surrender. "Just that it's nice to see you bringing someone new to lunch. Very nice."
Evan snorts, and I want the floor to swallow me whole.
"Our usual booth?" I ask, clearly trying to redirect the conversation.
"Of course, honey, go on back. I'll bring Maddie her usual in a minute."
We slide into a corner booth with cracked red vinyl and a view of the entire diner.
I guide Maddie into the inside seat, then hesitate for just a second before sitting next to her, leaving Piper and Evan on the opposite side.
Which means I'm directly across from Piper, which means I'll be looking at her for the entire meal, which means I'm in more trouble than I thought.
A younger waitress appears almost immediately, her notepad in hand. She has dark hair pulled into a ponytail and a name tag that reads JENNA.
"Hey Dylan, Evan. The usual?" Then she notices Piper, and her eyes light up with the same curiosity Rosie had. "Oh! You must be the festival person everyone's talking about."
"News travels fast," Piper says.
"Welcome to Valentine," Jenna says with a grin. "Where everyone knows everything about ten minutes after it happens. What can I get you?"
Piper glances at the menu, but Evan leans forward. "Get the patty melt. Trust me."
"The patty melt," Piper agrees.
"Good choice. Dylan, your usual turkey club? And I'll bring Maddie her grilled cheese and fries."
I nod, and Jenna disappears toward the kitchen.
Maddie immediately starts coloring on the paper placemat with crayons Rosie must have given her. I watch her for a moment, my expression softening in a way I can't control, before my eyes drift to Piper.
"Sorry about that," I say. "The interrogation at the door."
"Don't apologize. It's sweet. Everyone clearly loves you."
"They love Maddie," I correct. "I just come with the package."
Evan shakes his head. "That's not true, you fixed Rosie's mixer last year when it broke down during the Christmas rush, you donated three cakes to the fire station fundraiser, and you always let Mrs. Brown pay late when her Social Security check doesn't come on time."
I shift uncomfortably. "Those are just normal things."
"They're good things," Piper says quietly.
I meet her eyes, and something passes between us; it’s something warm, and it makes me feel a little vulnerable.
Before the moment can stretch too long, the diner door opens, and a group of women walks in. They're all roughly Piper's age, dressed in yoga pants and activewear, clearly coming from some kind of class. One of them spots our booth, and her face lights up.
"Dylan!" She makes a beeline for us, her friends trailing behind. "Oh my god, is this her?"
I close my eyes briefly. "Hi, Rebecca."
Rebecca ignores me and focuses on Piper with laser precision. "You're the festival content creator, right? I saw the committee's post. I'm Rebecca. I run the yoga studio down the street. This is Mara, she owns the bookshop, and that's Jill, she teaches at the elementary school."
The women crowd around our booth like Piper's a celebrity, or it’s got something to do with me having lunch with a woman who isn't my daughter, which is breaking news, apparently.
"It's nice to meet you all," Piper says.
"How long are you in town?" Mara asks; she has red hair and glasses, and the eager expression of someone who reads romance novels and sees potential everywhere.
"Just a few weeks, through the festival."
"Well, if you need anything, anything at all, you come find us," Rebecca says. “Valentine takes care of its visitors, especially ones working with our favorite baker."
"Favorite?" Evan interjects. "What am I, chopped liver?"
"You're wonderful too, Evan," Jill says, patting his shoulder. "But Dylan's single."
The entire booth goes silent. I look like I might actually die from embarrassment, Evan is fighting laughter, and Maddie is oblivious, coloring what appears to be a very detailed rainbow.
And Piper is trying very hard not to react to the word single echoing in the air between us.
"Ladies," I say with impressive calm, "we're trying to eat lunch."
"Right, right. Sorry." Rebecca backs away, but not before giving Piper a meaningful look. "But seriously, if you need recommendations, restaurants, shops, hiking trails, I'm your girl. We want you to love it here."
They finally disperse to their own table, and Piper watches them go with a mix of amusement and something else. Something that looks like warmth spreading through her chest.
"That's Valentine for you," Evan says. "Subtle as a brick."
"They mean well," I mutter.
"They're matchmaking," Evan clarifies. "Aggressively."
I shoot him a look that could melt steel.
Piper takes a sip of the water Jenna dropped off and seems to be trying very hard not to smile.
I can tell she enjoyed hearing that I'm single; she clearly enjoyed watching those women treat me like someone they want to protect, and I know she enjoyed the way I looked uncomfortable but not angry, like I'm used to this town caring about me, even when it's inconvenient.
"So," Piper says, changing the subject, "tell me about the festival. What's the history?"
I relax slightly. "It started about fifteen years ago, it’s a small town tourism thing, but after the wildfires a few years ago, it became something more. It’s a celebration of the community surviving together."
"Hence the 'Heart-to-Heart' theme," she says.
"Exactly. It's cheesy, but people love it. There's a charity auction, a street fair, and live music. The bakery does the centerpiece cake every year."
"And this year's phoenix design," she says.
I nod. "Renewal and moving forward."
There's weight in my voice, something personal. She doesn't push, but I can tell she's filing it away.
Jenna returns with our food, and the conversation shifts to lighter things.
Evan tells an elaborate story about a customer who tried to order a cake shaped like her ex-boyfriend's car so she could serve it at her freedom party.
Maddie shows Piper her rainbow drawing and explains that each color represents a different type of cookie.
I watch both of them with fond exasperation.
And I watch Piper; the way she leans forward when Maddie talks, genuinely interested, the way she laughs at Evan's terrible jokes. And especially the way her eyes keep finding mine across the table, soft and curious.
"You're staring," Evan says quietly, leaning across the table toward me.
I jerk my attention back to my plate. "No I'm not."
"Yes, you are, and for the record, she's staring too when you're not looking."
I glance up and see that Piper is, in fact, looking at me. When our eyes meet, she doesn't look away immediately; there's a question in her gaze, something uncertain and hopeful.
My heart does an uncomfortable flip.
"So, Piper," Evan says, louder now, clearly enjoying himself, "what brings a big-city content creator to a small town in Montana?"
"The job," she says automatically.
"Just the job?"
She pauses. "I go where the work is; I don't usually stay anywhere long."
"Why not?" Maddie asks, looking up from her drawing.
The question is both simple and complicated, and Piper doesn't know how to answer it.
I watch her carefully. "You don't have to answer that."
"It's okay," she says. "I guess I've just never found a place that felt like home."
"Maybe you haven't looked in the right places," Evan suggests.
Something flickers across Piper's face, but before she can respond, the diner door opens again, and a firefighter walks in. He spots me and walks over, nodding at our table.
"Hayes. I just wanted to give you a heads up, fire watch is elevated this week. Winds are shifting patterns, so keep an eye on the alerts."
My entire body goes rigid. "How elevated?"
"Nothing immediate, it’s just precautionary. You know the drill."
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I know the drill."
The firefighter nods and heads to the counter to place a to-go order.
The energy at the table has shifted. My jaw is tight, my hands flat on the table like I'm anchoring myself. Maddie seems oblivious, but Evan is watching me with concern.
"You okay?" Piper asks softly.
I force a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "Fine, it’s just fire season makes everyone nervous."
But it's more than that, I can see in her expression that she knows it too. The tension radiating through my shoulders, the way my breathing has gone shallow, these are signs that I'm trying to hide, but unfortunately, I can’t.
She reaches across the table without thinking and touches my hand. "Hey, we're safe here."
I look at her hand on mine, then up at her face. Something in my expression cracks open, just for a second.
"Yeah," I say. "We are."
But I hear what I don't say: for now.
Lunch wraps up shortly after that. I pay for everyone despite Piper's protests, and Rosie hugs her on the way out like she's been coming here for years.
"You come back anytime, sweetheart," she says. "With or without this one." She jerks her thumb at me.
"I'll be back," Piper promises.
As we walk back toward the bakery, Maddie skips ahead with Evan, and Piper falls into step beside me.
"Thank you for lunch," she says.
"Thank you for coming. I know it was probably overwhelming; the town can be a lot."
"I liked it," she says honestly. "Everyone's warm and very welcoming."
"They're nosy," I correct, but there's affection in my voice.
"That too."
We walk in comfortable silence for a moment. The festival banners flutter overhead, and the mountains rise in the distance, still capped with snow. The air smells like pine and possibility.
"Dylan," she says carefully, "that thing with the fire alert. If you ever want to talk about it..."
"I don't," I say quickly. Then, softer, "But I appreciate the offer."
She nods. I can tell she understands boundaries; she understands the importance of not reopening old wounds in the middle of Main Street.
But I also understand, with sudden clarity, that this woman has just seen something in me I try very hard to hide. And for reasons I can't quite explain, I don't mind that she saw it.