Chapter 12 Teagan
Teagan
The café hums with its usual pre-rush stillness.
Frost clings to the windowpanes, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air.
Outside, a gust of wind yanks at my scarf as I shove the "Help Wanted" sign into the frozen ground. The café needs extra hands—Axel’s grumbling about hiring strangers or not.
As I step back inside, the door chimes, bringing a swirl of icy air and a shivering brunette bundled in a too-thin jacket. She hesitates just past the threshold, her arms wrapped tight, shoulders hunched as if bracing for rejection.
“H-hi,” she stammers, her teeth chattering. “I saw your sign outside.”
I take her in—wind-flushed cheeks, wary eyes, the way she clutches a handful of coins like they’re her lifeline. Something about her pulls at me.
“Come in before you freeze,” I urge warmly, waving her toward a table farthest from the door. “What can I get you? Coffee? Mocha? Anything you want, on the house.”
Her eyes dart to the menu, wide with hesitation. “Uh… decaf coffee?” she says softly, as though she’s asking permission.
I chuckle. “Decaf? You sure? You look like you could use something stronger.”
“No, decaf is fine,” she insists, her gaze flitting to the window like someone might call her back.
While her coffee brews, I sit across from her, cradling my own mocha. “So,” I start, careful to keep my tone gentle, “you’re new in town?”
Her hands tighten around the warm mug. “Bristol,” she says finally. “I… we just got here. My brother and I. It’s a long story, but our house in Florida was destroyed in the hurricane. We’ve been staying in our car.”
My chest tightens. Her words are steady, but her eyes betray her exhaustion, the kind that comes from carrying too much for too long.
“Where’s your brother now?”
She glances toward the window again. “In the car. He’s looking through the newspaper for jobs.”
It’s not a question, but I ask anyway, unable to keep the edge of concern from my voice. “You slept out there, didn’t you?”
Her nod is quick, defensive. “We’re okay,” she says quickly.
But they’re not. I can see it in the way her fingers tremble around the mug.
I stand before the lump in my throat gets the better of me. “Go get him,” I insist. “He’s not waiting out there in the cold.”
She stares at me, startled, but doesn’t hesitate long. Seconds later, the door swings open again, and a tall handsome, broad-shouldered man steps in behind her. His messy brown hair curls at the ends, and his tired eyes scan the room before settling on me.
“Hi,” he says, his voice gruff but polite. “I’m Beckham. Sorry if we’re intruding.”
“You’re not,” I reply firmly. “Come in, both of you. Let me show you something.”
I lead them behind the counter and up the narrow staircase to the loft above the café. The space is simple—a bed, a small kitchen, a cozy corner with a couch that is a sleeper sofa—but it’s warm and safe.
“This is yours if you want it,” I say. “You can help out here in exchange.”
Their silence stretches. Beckham looks at Bristol, who’s staring at the room like it’s too good to be true.
“The job’s hers,” I add, “but I’ll find work for you too, Beckham. Axel will be by later—I’ll introduce you.”
Bristol turns to me, her wide eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You’d… let us stay here?”
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know they’re in great need and I don’t need to know their entire story to give them a helping hand. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, I need her to know, “Sweet girl, everyone needs a fresh start. You’re not imposing. You’re home now.”
For a moment, neither of them speaks. Then Beckham steps forward, extending a hand. His grip is firm, but his voice cracks when he says, “Thank you.”
Bristol’s lips tremble as she echoes, “Thank you. So much.”
The weight in their voices shows me I’m not just giving them a job or a place to stay—I’m giving them hope.
Today has been a whirlwind—so busy I barely had time to breathe or text Axel about Bristol or Beckham.
But as I lock up the café for the night, I’m more than thankful for my new friends.
As they are settling into their upstairs space, their gratitude is so genuine it tugs at my heart.
It’s been a good day, but I still can’t wait for Axel and Finley to meet these two.
The familiar jingle of the door cuts through my thoughts, followed by the bubbly sound of Finley’s voice. “Teagan! We’re here!”
She strides in, her energy filling the space as usual.
Finley’s smile is a teasing one, but her eyes are kindhearted.
Axel follows close behind, his presence steady and comforting.
His sharp blue eyes scan the room, landing on me before flicking to Beckham and Bristol, who’ve just come down the stairs.
“How’d it go?” he asks, his voice low but full of interest.
“Good,” I reply, my smile softening. “Really good.” I glance toward Bristol and Beckham. They look a little nervous but more at ease than earlier. “These two have been a godsend today.”
Finley’s gaze locks on Beckham, her smile widening as she steps closer to them. “Well, look at that. New faces!” She’s quick to extend her hand, her voice bright and welcoming. “I’m Finley. Axel’s sister. Welcome to town!”
Beckham takes her hand, and something unspoken passes between them—a flicker of surprise in her eyes, a slight pause in his handshake.
It’s like they’re suspended in their own world, a moment that stretches longer than it should.
Then Beckham clears his throat, breaking the spell.
But his eyes never leave Finley’s, voice steady.
“I’m Beckham, and this is my sister, Bristol. Thanks for the welcome.”
Axel steps forward, his handshake firm. “Good to meet you both. Teagan told me a little about your situation. If you’re willing, Beckham, I’ve got some work you might be interested in. Could use an extra pair of hands on the job site.”
While we’ve been busy here, Axel was able to do me a solid and run a background check on both of them.
Which I told them about. Turns out they’re twins and they’re the epitome of stellar citizens.
It’s just that life hasn’t been kind to them—losing loved ones, their home wiped out in the last hurricane in Florida, with no insurance and no living relatives left to turn to.
Beckham’s eyes widen slightly, his composure slipping just enough to reveal his surprise. “Are you serious?”
Axel nods. “Dead serious. You’ve got to keep busy, right? And it pays pretty good.”
Beckham laughs quietly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Yeah, I’d be grateful. Thank you.”
I watch the exchange, a deep sense of appreciation spreading through my chest. This is what Axel does—he steps up for people.
Finley’s still standing close to Beckham, her arms crossed, her grin slight but curious. “Well, it looks like you’ll be sticking around for a while, then. Hope you’re ready for small-town life.” Her tone is light, but there’s a spark in her eyes that tells me she’s intrigued.
Bristol glances between us all, her expression a mix of relief and disbelief. “Thank you… all of you. We didn’t expect…” Her voice trails off, emotion choking the words.
I step toward her, reaching out to squeeze her arm. “You don’t have to say anything. You’re here now, and that’s what matters. You’re part of our little town, our family.”
The café feels different tonight, almost alive with this understood connection between everyone.
Finley picks up a mop and gets to work, helping me out, being the greatest best friend anyone could ask for, like she’s been doing since she was fourteen.
Axel heads to the back to grab more cleaning supplies, always finding a way to be useful.
Beckham and Bristol glance at each other, their nervous edges softened by the camaraderie. The sound of laughter mixes with the hum of the café’s playlist, the rhythmic swish of the mop, and the soft murmur of conversation.
I take a deep breath, looking around at these people who’ve come together in this space—my space. There’s something special about tonight, about the way everyone fits like pieces of a puzzle.
This is more than just a new year or a new chapter. This is the start of something big, something meaningful. And I can’t wait to see where it takes us.