Chapter 4
Ace
By the third morning in a row, even I was starting to question my life choices.
I stood outside Bloom & Vine with a paper bag in one hand and coffee in the other, staring at the shop window while early morning sunlight spilled across Main Street.
“This is a terrible idea,” I muttered.
Still walked inside anyway.
The bell above the door chimed softly.
Tessa stood behind the counter arranging pale pink roses into a tall glass vase. Her curls were piled loosely on top of her head today, a few stubborn strands falling around her face.
She glanced up.
And there it was again.
That tiny flicker in her eyes before she smoothed it away.
“You’re becoming a regular problem,” she said.
I grinned slowly. “That almost sounded affectionate.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Worth a shot.”
I crossed the shop and set the paper bag carefully onto the counter between us.
Her gaze dropped to it immediately.
Suspicion narrowed her eyes. “What’s that?”
“Bribery.”
“Told you before, I’m not interested.”
“Good thing the muffin is.”
That earned me the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth.
Barely there.
Still a win.
Tessa sighed softly like I was exhausting her already, then reached for the bag with cautious fingers.
Like touching it might mean something.
Maybe it did.
She folded the top open and went still.
Blueberry muffin.
Her favorite.
The shop suddenly felt quieter.
“You’ve been asking around, or did you all notice I always picked the blueberry muffins,” she said without looking up.
“Small town,” I said lightly. “People talk.”
Her eyes lifted sharply to mine. “That’s not charming, Ace.”
I leaned one forearm against the counter. “Wasn’t trying to be charming.”
“No?”
“No.” I held her gaze. “Trying to get you to stop looking at me like I’m a bomb about to go off.”
Silence stretched between us.
Outside, a truck rumbled slowly past the shop.
Inside, the cooler hummed softly behind her.
Tessa’s fingers tightened around the edge of the paper bag.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” she said quietly.
The teasing left my expression instantly.
“Then tell me.”
“No.”
Too quick.
Like the answer had been waiting already loaded in the chamber.
I straightened a little. “Why not?”
Her eyes flicked away for the first time since I walked in.
Toward the window.
Toward the street.
Anywhere but me.
“Because you wouldn’t look at me the same way after.”
The words landed hard enough to knock the air out of my chest.
Not because of what she said—
because of how she said it.
Like she already knew exactly how this story ended.
I studied her more carefully then.
The rigid line of her shoulders.
The way her fingers curled against the counter hard enough to whiten her knuckles.
Not angry.
Braced.
Like she was waiting for impact.
“You don’t get to make that decision for me,” I said quietly.
Her gaze snapped back to mine, sharp and defensive.
“You don’t get to decide anything about me.”
There it was.
Fear dressed up as anger.
I knew the difference.
I’d seen it too many times before.
But this wasn’t fear of me.
This was fear of what happened if she let me close enough to stay.
I pushed slowly away from the counter and gave her space.
“I’m not your enemy, Tessa.”
Something in her expression cracked then.
Small.
Fast.
Gone almost immediately.
“I know,” she whispered.
But she didn’t sound convinced.
I nodded once and headed for the door.
“For what it’s worth…” I paused with my hand on the handle and glanced back at her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her breath caught softly behind me.
The sound followed me all the way outside.
And standing there on the sidewalk afterward, one thing settled hard in my gut.
Whatever happened to Tessa Bloom—
it didn’t just hurt her.
It taught her not to trust kindness when she saw it.