Chapter 8
Mae: the entire town knows you spent the night at Jake's apartment
Lucy nearly dropped her phone into the croissant dough she was rolling.
Lucy: How does the entire town know?
Lucy: It was our first date. We just slept. Nothing happened.
Mae: I believe you. The Knitting Circle has you eloping by spring.
Lucy: I hate this town.
Mae: No you don't. See you at 7.
Lucy set down her phone and tried to focus on the croissants, but her hands were shaking. This was Timber Falls—of course everyone knew. Privacy was a myth in a town of 8,500 people where everyone's grandmother knew everyone else's grandmother.
She'd known this would happen eventually. Had even accepted it as the price of dating someone local. But she'd hoped for maybe a week before becoming the subject of town gossip.
By 7:30 AM, Lucy had confirmed that yes, indeed, everyone knew.
Mr. Peterson came in with his usual bran muffin order and a knowing smile. "Heard you had a nice evening Monday."
The Knitting Circle arrived en masse at 8 AM, occupying their corner table and very obviously discussing Lucy while pretending to knit.
Tom and Jerry were more direct. "So," Tom said while paying for his danish. "You and Jake Morrison, huh?"
"We're just—it's new. We're figuring it out."
"Good for you," Jerry said kindly. "It's about time you had some fun."
"And Jake's a good kid," Tom added. "Kept to himself too much these past few years. Nice to see him coming out of his shell."
Uncle Walter arrived at 9 AM with a knowing expression and two coffees.
"Don't start," Lucy said.
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"You're smiling."
"I'm happy for you. Is that a crime?"
Lucy accepted the coffee he offered. "Everyone knows. Mrs. Henderson saw me leaving Jake's building at 4:30 and apparently held a press conference."
"This is Timber Falls. Of course everyone knows. They're excited—you've been single for five years. They want you to be happy."
"They want to gossip about me."
"That too. But mostly the happy thing." Uncle Walter settled at Lucy's corner table. "How was Monday night? Really?"
Lucy felt herself smile despite the embarrassment. "Really good. He cooked chicken and it wasn't terrible. We watched old westerns. We talked about our dads and our futures. And then we just... existed together. It was nice."
"Nice is good."
"Nice is great, actually." Lucy sat down across from him. "But also terrifying. Because now it's real. Now people know. Now there are expectations and what if we mess it up? What if—"
"Lucy. Breathe."
"I'm breathing."
"You're spiraling. There's a difference." Uncle Walter reached across and squeezed her hand. "You're allowed to just see where this goes. You don't have to have the whole relationship figured out after one date."
"I know. But my brain doesn't know."
"Your brain needs to relax. Speaking of which—are you still meeting Shayna tomorrow?"
"Yeah. 2 PM at Giuseppe's."
"Want company?"
"Jake's coming with me."
Uncle Walter's eyebrows rose. "Jake's going with you to the bakery sale meeting?"
"He offered. For moral support."
"That's... significant. You're letting him in on major life decisions after one date."
"I know it's fast but it doesn't feel fast? It feels like we've been building toward this for three years and we're finally just acknowledging it."
"Then trust that. Trust yourself." Uncle Walter stood. "And ignore the Knitting Circle. They mean well but they're ruthless gossips."
After he left, Lucy tried to focus on work, but her mind kept drifting to Jake. To Monday night, to the way he'd held her while they slept, to the coffee he'd made her at 4:30 AM like it was the most natural thing in the world.
To the lunch date they had planned for today.
At 11:45, Mae appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Your boyfriend is here."
"He's not my boyfriend. We've had one date."
"He spent Monday night teaching you about classic westerns and made you breakfast. That's boyfriend behavior."
"We didn't—it wasn't—" Lucy gave up. "Fine. My maybe-boyfriend is here."
She emerged from the kitchen to find Jake standing by the counter, looking slightly uncomfortable as the Knitting Circle openly stared at him. He was wearing jeans and a dark green henley that made his eyes look impossibly bright.
"Hey," Lucy said.
"Hey. Ready for lunch?"
"Let me grab my coat."
As they walked to the door, one of the Knitting Circle—Mrs. Patterson, who'd taught Lucy in third grade—called out: "You kids have fun now!"
Outside, Jake immediately said, "So everyone knows."
"Everyone knows. Mrs. Henderson is apparently a one-woman news network."
"Marcus told me this morning that I'm the talk of the team. Owen keeps asking if you're going to bake us celebratory cookies."
"Are we celebrating something?"
"According to Owen, we're celebrating true love conquering all."
Lucy laughed despite her embarrassment. "He's very dramatic."
"He's twenty-one. Everything is dramatic." Jake took her hand as they walked down Main Street. "Does it bother you? That everyone knows?"
"A little. I like my privacy. But also..." Lucy squeezed his hand. "Also I don't want to hide. I spent five years hiding from life. I'm done with that."
"Good. Because I'm done hiding too."
They walked to Giuseppe's—the only sit-down restaurant in Timber Falls besides Mac's Tavern. It was run by Giuseppe Marino, an Italian immigrant who'd married a local woman in the 1970s and never left. The pasta was indeed weirdly sweet, but the atmosphere was cozy and warm.
Giuseppe himself greeted them at the door. "Lucy! And Jake Morrison! I heard you two are together now. This is wonderful! True love!" He clasped his hands together dramatically.
"Giuseppe—" Lucy started.
"No, no, I am happy for you. You need someone. You work too much. And Jake, you need someone to feed you properly. Look at you—too thin!" He ushered them to a corner booth. "I will make you something special. On the house!"
"You don't have to—"
"I insist! For love!" He disappeared into the kitchen before they could argue.
Jake and Lucy looked at each other across the booth and burst out laughing.
"This town," Lucy said.
"I know. But it's kind of nice, right? People caring."
"It's invasive."
"It's both. Invasive and nice in equal measure."
They settled into easy conversation—about practice this morning (exhausting but good), about the bakery (chaotic but manageable), about tomorrow's meeting with Shayna (terrifying).
"Are you sure you want to come with me?" Lucy asked. "You don't have to. I can handle it alone."
"I know you can. But you don't have to. That's the whole point of having someone—you don't have to do everything alone anymore."
Lucy felt her throat tighten. "When did you get so wise?"
"I had a good teacher. This baker who taught me that food is love made visible. That caring about people means showing up, even when it's hard."
"I don't remember teaching you that."
"You taught me by example. Every Wednesday morning for three years."
Giuseppe arrived with plates of pasta—spaghetti carbonara that looked perfect and smelled incredible. He set them down with a flourish.
"Mangia, mangia! Eat! For love!"
The pasta was, surprisingly, not sweet. It was actually delicious—creamy, rich, with perfectly cooked bacon and just the right amount of cheese.
"This is really good," Lucy said, surprised.
Jake took a bite and nodded in agreement. "When did Giuseppe learn to cook properly?"
"Maybe he only makes the good stuff for 'true love,'" Lucy said with air quotes.
They ate and talked, and Lucy realized something: this felt normal. Not first-date-butterflies normal, but comfortable-with-each-other normal. Like they'd been doing this for years instead of days.
"Can I ask you something?" Jake said, setting down his fork.
"Always."
"Tomorrow, when you meet with Shayna—what's your ideal outcome? What do you actually want?"
Lucy considered this. "I want to know my options.
I want to understand what selling would mean—financially, logistically, emotionally.
I want to know if I could build in a clause that preserves some of my grandmother's recipes, or if the new owners would keep the name.
I want to know if this is real or just a fantasy. "
"And if it's real? If she makes a good offer?"
"Then I have to decide if I'm brave enough to take it. If I'm ready to let go of the bakery and figure out who I am without it."
"You're brave enough," Jake said quietly. "You're one of the bravest people I know."
"I don't feel brave. I feel terrified."
"That's how you know you're being brave. Courage isn't not being scared—it's being scared and doing it anyway."
They finished lunch, and Giuseppe refused to let them pay despite their protests. "For love!" he insisted, shooing them toward the door.
Outside, Jake checked his phone. "I have practice at 2. Walk you back to the bakery?"
"Please."
They walked slowly, hands linked, neither quite ready for the lunch to end. At the bakery door, Jake pulled Lucy close.
"Thank you for lunch."
"Thank you for coming with me tomorrow."
"Wouldn't miss it." He kissed her softly. "See you tomorrow at 1:30?"
"See you then."
Lucy watched him walk away, then turned to find Mae and the Knitting Circle all pressed against the bakery window, watching.
She waved sarcastically. They waved back, grinning.
This town was impossible. But maybe Uncle Walter was right—maybe it was also kind of wonderful.
Thursday afternoon arrived with clear skies and Jake's stomach in knots.
He'd been to hundreds of important meetings in his life—contract negotiations, coach meetings, scout interviews. But somehow, sitting in his apartment at 1 PM getting ready to support Lucy through a potentially life-changing business meeting felt more nerve-wracking than all of them combined.
This wasn't his decision. It was hers. But he wanted to be there. Wanted her to know she didn't have to face this alone.
His phone buzzed. Marcus.