CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
K RU
It’s seven a.m. on a Thursday, and I’m at the restaurant instead of catching up on precious sleep.
Why?
Because Piper Keegan has me wrapped around her finger.
She wants to see the barn, and this is the only time that works for her around her shop and her schedule with her brothers at the hospital.
Of course I make it work, even if I get four hours of sleep as a result.
I’m yawning for the hundredth time that morning as I stumble through the kitchen, struggling to brew a pot of coffee.
Once that first sip hits, I feel a semblance of clarity zip through me. Maybe I’ve got a shot at this day. By the end of the cup, I can think again. Hell yes.
The back door creaks open, and I know it's her before I even look up.
"There’s my first barn tour of the day," I call out, not bothering to hide my smile.
Piper appears in the doorway to the storage room, a to-go cup of coffee in each hand and that messy bun I've come to adore perched on top of her head. She's wearing leggings and a Cloud Nine hoodie, practical for exploring a dusty old barn.
“You say it like you have other tours lined up, which is…not allowed.” She pushes one of the coffees into my hand. “But you know what they say. Early bird gets the worm. Or in this case, the barn."
“They do say that,” I agree before taking a sip of the coffee. “And you brought me coffee? That's dangerously close to a nice gesture."
"I'm just ensuring you're properly caffeinated before you show me my future event space."
"You’re optimistic." I stand, grabbing my keys. "It could be completely rotted and decrepit inside.”
"Or maybe it just needs some TLC," she says, falling into step beside me as we head out the back door. "And once it’s got long wooden tables with wildflower centerpieces, and a dance floor beneath its old, exposed beams, it’ll come right back to life."
The excitement in her voice is contagious.
As we cross the parking lot toward the barn at the far end, I find myself seeing it through her eyes—not as the dusty storage space I initially considered it, but as something with real potential.
Set against the cresting hues of dawn, the barn looks extra moody and photogenic as we approach.
"Just remember," I warn her, "it's been empty for years. It will likely have a lot of issues."
She waves a dismissive hand. "Nothing a little elbow grease and a good moss wall can't fix."
The barn itself is larger than I realized—a substantial two-story structure with weathered red wood siding and a metal roof that's held up surprisingly well. The original sliding doors are massive, though one hangs slightly off its track.
I fumble with the padlock, then slide the door open with a dramatic flourish. "Welcome to the barn I never anticipated owning.”
Piper steps inside, her eyes widening as she takes in the space. Dust motes dance in the beams of light filtering through the high windows. The interior is mostly empty, save for some abandoned wagon wheels in one corner and a rickety wooden staircase tucked against the far wall, leading to a loft.
"Oh my god," she breathes, turning slowly to take it all in. "It's perfect."
"Not to mention a tetanus shot waiting to happen," I add, but I can't help smiling at her enthusiasm.
She's already pacing the length of the main floor, her arms stretched wide as if measuring the space. "Look at these beams! And the height of the ceiling! And those windows—they're filthy now, but imagine how much natural light they'll let in once they're cleaned."
I lean against the door frame, watching her. She’s vibrating with enthusiasm…with vision. It’s contagious, to be perfectly honest. She looks so at home here already. I can almost see the wheels turning behind those bright green eyes.
"Did you see that loft?" I ask, nodding toward the upper level.
Piper eyes the rickety staircase warily. "Is it safe to go up there?"
"Only one way to find out." I start toward the stairs. "I'll go first. If I crash through, consider it structurally unsound."
"My hero," she says dryly but follows me anyway.
The stairs creak ominously under my weight but hold. When we reach the top, I'm pleasantly surprised by the condition of the loft. The floor seems solid, and the pitched roof creates a cozy feeling up here.
"This could be a bridal suite," Piper says immediately, spinning around to take it all in. "Or a VIP lounge area for corporate events. Or a separate bar space for specialty cocktails…"
"Any of those would be awesome.”
She nods, then moves to one of the small windows overlooking the property. "Oh my god, Kru—you can see the lake from here!"
I join her at the window, and sure enough, there's Briggs Bay visible between the trees. "Well, would you look at that."
"This changes everything," she says, turning to me with those big eyes sparkling. "Lake views add a premium to any event space."
“So what do you think?" The question seems unnecessary—she’s vibrating with give it to me now.
"What do I think?" She cups the side of her face like she’s holding in an explosion. "Kru, this place is beyond perfect. It needs work, obviously—a lot of work—but the bones are incredible. The location is amazing. The size is ideal. It's like this barn was custom built for what I want to do."
It’s impossible not to get caught up in her vision. "So you want it?"
"Yes!" She bounces on her toes. "Can we make the deal? Right now?"
I laugh at her eagerness. "Slow down, Maven. I need to figure out the details first. Rent, lease terms, renovation parameters…"
"Fine, fine," she says, waving a hand impatiently. "But the answer is yes. I want it. Immediately ."
"I need to figure out some paperwork then," I say. "I’ll draw something up and then let you take a look to see what you think."
As we make our way back down the stairs, Piper suddenly stops, turning to look at me seriously. "Kru…thank you. For showing me this. For even considering renting it to me."
The sincerity in her voice catches me off guard. "You don't have to thank me."
“I do. You agreeing to rent to me completely begins a new chapter of my life. This is huge. I’ve wanted to do this for so long but have been too scared to make a move…and now it’s suddenly happening .”
We come to a stop on the dusty floor in the center of the barn.
The cool fall air whips in through the open barn door, scattering hay that still litters the floor.
She looks up at me, her big green eyes sucking me in.
She’s so beautiful, in a way that makes my heart ache.
I brush back a piece of her strawberry blonde hair that drifts across her forehead.
“You’re welcome,” I finally say. “I’m happy to help.”
“Is it okay if I get started before you draw up the paperwork?” She clutches my forearms, practically bouncing in front of me. “Nothing major. I just know I won’t be able to wait to get started. Sweeping and stuff like that.”
“I suppose that’d be okay…” I look around, instantly overwhelmed by the amount of work this place requires. “Are you sure you want this thing though? I mean, this is gonna be months of work.”
“I’m not afraid of work.”
“I didn’t mean that,” I say. “It’s just going to be so much . You’ll have to hire a crew, it’s gonna be a lot of money, Maven.”
“I’ll figure it out,” she snips. I get the sense I’m raining on her parade, so I nod.
“You will. You’re right.”
We take one last look at the barn before stepping outside. I slide the big door shut and lock it back up, then hand her the key.
“In case you want to start sweeping later,” I say.
She squeals, clutching the key to her chest. “Thank you, Kru.” She pushes up onto her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my lips.
I wrap an arm around her, bringing her against my body. “It’s my pleasure. I want to help however I can.”
She has stars in her eyes as she beams up at me. Then something clouds her gaze, and she steps away, nibbling on her lip.
“I think this will need to stay our little secret for a while,” she says, running the pad of her thumb over the key. “I still need to figure out a way to tell my brothers I’m taking the plunge on this. They won’t be happy.”
“There’re a few things you don’t want your brothers to know about, huh?” I stuff my hands into my pockets against the stiff breeze as we walk back toward the main building.
She frowns. “If you knew my brothers, you’d understand.”
“Will I ever meet them?”
“Not if I can help it.”
I study the ground, a knot forming in my gut. I don’t like that comment one bit, but I don’t feel like I have any right to object. We haven’t talked about us . So I file it away for later.
I wish her a good work day, and we head our separate ways.
Inside my office, I bury myself in invoicing and inventory orders.
There’s tons to do on a daily basis, so my extra early start won’t be a waste.
Eventually Brady comes in, followed by Rafael and the rest. Office work bleeds into prep, and then suddenly we’re open for the day and serving a bustling dining room of customers.
It’s easy to click into the groove here, something I’m relishing as the work day melts away beneath us in an easy flow.
Before I know it, it’s four o’clock, and I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I’m good about making sure the crew takes a break to eat after lunch service, but I don’t usually follow my own guidance.
Typical for a working chef. I put together a quick sandwich, pause, and then make a second one.
If I haven’t eaten, I bet Piper hasn’t either.
I head next door with the grilled chicken and ciabatta sandwich I whipped up for her, wrapped in foil.
As I step through the back storage room door, I spot her in full Cloud Nine regalia—pink headband, frilly white apron, facing down a small crowd of marshmallow enthusiasts.
Four long tables are set up at the back of the shop, three students per table, facing Piper at the front.
Everyone has their own pastel pink mixer.
I watch for a moment as she gives a demonstration of how to whip the marshmallows to perfection.
“The whipping is where the magic is,” she says brightly, showing the crowd exactly what to do, a huge bowl on the table in front of her.
I lean against the doorframe and watch, transfixed, as she regales her students with tips and advice. I’ve never seen a more beautiful marshmallow maven. They all follow along with their own mixers. As she walks among the tables to inspect the progress of her students, her gaze flicks my way.
I’m happy to note her face lights up when she sees me.
I’m sure mine does the same. I hold up the wrapped sandwich and mime eating a sandwich.
I point to the table by the backdoor, and then give her a thumbs up.
I think she gets what I’m trying to say because she nods effusively and mouths thank you before bending over to check out the progress of one of her marshmallow students.
My heart swells a little as I head back to my side of the building. I like taking care of Piper. And if I’m being honest, I’m crazy about her. Having her close is so nice—not just in the backyard of my rental but here at my side throughout the day.
My head is swirling with thoughts as I head back into my kitchen and snag my own sandwich to wolf down before getting back on the line.
I’ve been mulling all day on the rental agreement for the barn.
I’d be lying if I said her plans for it weren’t exciting to me.
I just don’t like the fact that she’s trying to build this thing up in the shadows.
And if I’m being honest, I don’t like that she wants to keep me in the shadows either.
I’m chewing and stewing in my thoughts, the back of my mind analyzing the cayenne-forward seasoning combination I used on the chicken before I grilled it while the other half of me is wondering what I truly want from Piper.
We’re both busy small-business owners in the midst of expansion. I need to be logical. Ruthless.
I’m mere weeks into the launch of my own brand-new business venture. Why would I get tangled up in this pipe dream of Piper’s too?
Be real, lobster man. You need to focus.
I down the final bite of my sandwich, making a mental note to add more lemon to the homemade mayo next time. I head to the sink to wash my hands, still lost in my thoughts as I scrub.
I know what happens when I get lost in a new relationship.
Emphasis on the word lost . I damn near quit cooking after I got in deep with my ex, Vanessa.
I fell too hard, too quickly. The end of our relationship was brewing right when the food truck competition reality TV show came up.
She didn’t want me to apply—I applied anyway.
When I got accepted, she wasn’t even happy for me.
And I damn near turned down the offer to go on the show until my Mom talked some sense into me.
Just thinking back to that time in life scares the shit out of me.
Going on the TV show carved out the path to my dreams, and my ex had only seen it as a threat.
I’m terrified of being derailed like that. Of casting aside everything I’ve worked for in the name of love.
I tear off a paper towel to dry my hands, scanning the now-bustling kitchen as orders begin to pump through the printer.
It’s not that I think Piper herself is a threat; it’s that anything that is not my business is a threat. I do not have time to get lost right now. Everything about my business requires all of me. All my focus.
And I’ll be damned if I get swept away and lose sight of the goal.