Chapter Sixty
Jade
The bell over the bakery door jingled again during the midmorning rush, and then the place got weirdly quiet. I looked up from the plate in front of me—Lainey’s newest pastry experiment, something flaky with lemon glaze—and my breath caught when I realized why.
Brian stood in the doorway.
He looked good. Too good. Jeans, a grey-green waffle-knit polo that made his brown eyes pop, and a pair of navy-blue sneakers. The slight limp as he moved further inside the store somehow made him seem more human than the hero the media kept talking about.
His gaze found mine immediately, and the corner of his mouth turned up—like he’d found what he was looking for.
Every muscle in my body went still.
I felt paralyzed to move as he crossed the room—whispers following him as he went.
“Isn’t that the cop who got shot?”
“Wait, I thought he was dating the real estate chick.”
“Do you think there’s really something going on with him and the nurse?”
“She’s the bakery owner’s sister…”
He sat down in the booth next to me without hesitation; one hand gently slid around the back of my neck anchoring me there while his eyes searched mine.
Then, without a word, he leaned down and kissed me. Softly at first—almost like he was making sure I wasn’t going to slap him before he pulled me closer and deepened the kiss.
Right there, in front of everyone.
Gasps broke out around us. A spoon clattered against a tabletop, followed by the steady hum of whispers.
By the time my brain caught up, he’d already pulled back—just far enough for his eyes to meet mine.
“I should’ve done that the morning we got back,” he said, his voice steady and low enough to carry. “I should’ve taken you to the diner like I’d said. Instead, I kept quiet and tried to hide this. I thought I was protecting you. But all I did was make you think I was hiding you.”
My chest ached, a mix of shock and everything I’d been holding in for days.
He turned slightly, not to the crowd exactly, but enough that anyone watching could hear. “You’re the woman I love. And I don’t give a damn who knows it.”
Someone near the counter clapped once, awkwardly. Then another joined in, and another, until the bakery filled with a ripple of warm applause.
I could barely breathe. “Brian…”
He stroked my cheek with a smile. “I’m sorry. For all of it. For making you feel invisible when you were the only thing I saw.”
The sting in my throat became impossible to swallow back. I reached for his shirt and kissed him again, harder this time, until the sound of clapping faded into laughter and the world around us blurred.
When we finally broke apart, Lainey was leaning against the counter, smirking into her coffee. “Guess that recipe’s a hit,” she said.
I laughed through a tear that slipped free. “Yeah,” I said, still looking at Brian. “It is.”