Chapter 24 Eliza
Eliza
Iwoke up wrapped in warmth. A solid arm was tucked around my waist, a slow, steady breath tickled the back of my neck, and the quilt was tangled halfway down my legs. For one disorienting second, I didn’t remember where I was.
Then I did.
Nate’s bed. Nate’s room.
Nate.
I blinked in the soft early light coming through the blinds, the scent of cedar and cinnamon still lingering in the air.
Lois was snoring faintly from the living room—content and unaware that the entire axis of my world had quietly shifted overnight.
For a moment, I just lay there, letting myself soak in the quiet comfort of his presence.
Everything felt impossibly still—like the world outside had faded away.
I eased back against Nate’s chest, reluctant to move. Last night had been everything. Gentle and sweet. Heated and sexy. He’d made me feel like more than I ever let myself believe I could be.
I rolled over slowly to face him. His lashes were dark against his cheek, his jaw slack with sleep. One of his hands was resting on my hip. I could’ve stayed like that for hours.
But reality ticked at the edges of my peace.
Because as much as I wanted to linger in this perfect cocoon, I couldn't pretend that the rest of my life wouldn't come knocking soon enough.
Hidden fears and doubts pressed quietly at the edges of my happiness, reminding me that nothing this good ever came without complications.
I let out a slow breath, torn between clinging to the moment and bracing myself for what came next.
“I need to go home,” I whispered.
He cracked one eye open and smiled. “I was dreaming that we stayed in my bed all day. Unrealistic, I know.”
“I have to feed the cats,” I said, trying not to melt as he shifted closer, his voice still rough with sleep. “And open the Coffee Cabin.”
“Bring them here,” he murmured, kissing my temple. “I'll make everyone breakfast.”
“I think Linguini would try to steal Lois’s bed,” I said dryly. “And Remy would try to move into your house permanently.”
“Sounds like we’d be a full family by next week.”
I smiled, but there was a flicker in my chest I didn’t want to examine too closely.
Nate stretched and sighed. “I’ll drive you home.”
He pulled on a T-shirt and joggers and padded barefoot through the house while I got dressed, gathered my things, and gave Lois one last pat on the head.
Outside, the early morning air was cool and hushed, the world still half-asleep.
He held my hand as we walked to the truck, his thumb brushing over my knuckles like he wasn’t quite ready to let go yet.
Before he opened my door, he paused. “So,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth, “just to be clear—this wasn’t me accidentally kidnapping you for an extended dinner, right?”
I laughed softly, my heart still doing that unsteady thing. “No,” I said. “Though I did enjoy the part where I was fed and emotionally compromised.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, then sobered, his gaze lifting to mine. “Last night wasn’t just…” He trailed off, shaking his head once. Then he met my eyes, steady and earnest. “It meant something to me.”
My throat tightened. “Me too.”
“Well,” he said lightly, like he was trying to keep things from tipping over the edge, “that’s a relief. I was worried I’d imagined the whole thing.”
“Don’t get cocky,” I said. “I’m still processing.”
“That’s fair,” he said, smiling. “Take your time. I’ll be over here pretending I’m very cool about it.”
He leaned in then and kissed me—soft and slow, unhurried—like he was memorizing the moment. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against mine.
“For the record,” he murmured, “I’d do that again.”
I smiled. “Noted.”
The drive was quiet after that, comfortable in the best way—the kind of silence that didn’t need filling. When he pulled up in front of my place, neither of us moved right away.
He squeezed my hand gently. “Text me when you’re inside,” he said. “So I know you didn’t vanish into the night.”
“I live here,” I teased. “I promise I’ll still exist.”
“Humor me,” he said, gaze warm and unguarded. “I like knowing things.”
I leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Have a good day, Nate.”
“You too.”
The morning light brushed my skin as I stepped out of the truck, heart full, possibilities unfolding behind me—and for once, I didn’t feel the need to run from them.
The rest of the morning passed in a quiet haze of routine. Feed the cats. Shower. Try on four different sweaters before giving up and choosing the one Nate once said made me look like a cup of cocoa.
I opened the Coffee Cabin a few minutes late, hair still damp and heart still full.
But by mid-morning, the warm haze of last night had burned off like steam on the espresso machine.
“Hey,” a voice said behind me, sharp and smooth all at once.
I turned. Graham.
He stood too close to the walk-up window, hands in the pockets of his sleek coat, expression carefully neutral.
His sudden presence at the window made my stomach twist. I wiped my hands on a dish towel, steadying myself. “Did you need something, Graham?” I asked, careful to keep my tone even.
“Eliza,” he said with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Your sisters are something else.”
I blinked. “They tend to be.”
He chuckled, like we were old friends sharing a private joke. “I didn’t mean to offend them. I guess I underestimated how protective they are.”
I kept my face pleasant. Neutral. “They’re my family.”
“Well,” he said, leaning in slightly. “I just wanted to apologize again for my behavior. Wouldn’t want town gossip to make things awkward for you. Or Nate.” A subtle jab tucked inside velvet words.
“Thanks,” I said, voice light. “I think the town’s memory will focus on who really made a spectacle of themselves.”
He smiled again. “I’d hate to see you caught in the middle of something messy.”
“I’m good at cleaning up messes. Comes with practice, sadly.”
His jaw ticked. Then he stepped back and tipped an imaginary hat. “Enjoy your day, Eliza.”
I watched him walk away, the air shifting in his absence, leaving a faint chill that had nothing to do with the weather outside. My fingers curled around the edge of the counter as I tried to shake off the unease that lingered.
He wasn’t sorry. I knew him better than that.
I exhaled slowly and turned back to my espresso machine, willing my hands to steady.
I didn’t want to tell Nate. Not yet. Not when things had just started to feel like they were finally falling into place.
But deep down, I knew Graham wasn’t done. And I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending I could handle him on my own.
I was wiping down the counter for the second time in five minutes when Cara popped through the back door like she owned the place. She had a to-go cup in one hand and her scarf askew.
“I need something with sugar and caffeine real bad,” she breathlessly announced.
I wordlessly made her a mocha with whipped cream and slid a lemon bar across the counter.
She took a sip, then sighed like the drink had exorcised at least two personal demons. “Okay. I came to give you a debrief.”
“On what?”
“Last night. After you left with Nate.” She wiggled her brows. “Which, by the way, you definitely left with Nate. Don’t try to deny it.”
I tried not to blush and probably failed. “We had dinner.”
“Mmhmm. Sure, you did.” She smirked, then leaned on the counter. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you what your oldest two sisters got up to.”
“Oh my god.”
“Oh yes,” she said, sipping with relish.
“Turns out, Graham tried to give a little speech to thank everyone for coming, brag about his imported truffle oil, the décor—I had no idea he was such an ass. I swear. He was always nice to me back in school. I had no idea that side of him existed. He was so condescending to you. What was up with that?”
“He’s good at making people see what he wants them to.”
Her expression shifted, guilt flickering in her eyes.
“I should’ve seen the real him sooner,” she murmured, tracing the rim of her cup.
“I always thought Graham was harmless, you know? All charm and no bite. I hate that I missed the signs, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you like I should have been. ”
Without thinking, I reached across the counter, squeezing her hand. “You have nothing to apologize for,” I said softly. “You can’t be there for someone if they don’t tell you what’s going on.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here now, though, I promise.
Anyway, Piper and Paige had no such illusions about him,” Cara said, eyes dancing, “Piper started asking pointed questions in her bakery competition voice. About how exactly he sourced his flour, and if he had gluten-free options on his menu. Then Paige chimed in about how ironic it was that a man so full of himself was serving such small portions.”
I choked on a laugh. “They didn’t.”
“They absolutely did. Lucy and I were trying to disappear into the wallpaper while Piper and Paige dismantled him with surgical precision. By the time dessert came out, Graham looked like he was trying to remember if he’d invited them or they’d invited themselves.”
I laughed again, but it came out a little shaky.
Cara’s smile softened. “Hey. You okay?”
I looked at her. Really looked. Cara wasn’t just the sister who saw everything; she was the one who waited until you were ready to admit you needed her.
She never pushed, never demanded confessions or explanations; instead, her presence was steady and patient, like a porch light left on for someone wandering home in the dark.
In that moment, with her hand warm over mine and concern brushed across her features, I felt the pressure I’d been feeling since I got here ease.