Chapter 51
Rina
The first thing that hits me when I step into Lakeshore Sweets isn’t the scent, it’s the familiar sounds of laughter rippling from a table near the window, the clink of mugs, and the faint strains of a playlist Callie probably curated herself.
It’s something acoustic that’s both mellow and easy.
The air feels like it’s been steeped in comfort, and I love it.
Sunlight pours through the front windows, catching on glass jars filled with pastel macarons and chocolate-dipped biscotti.
Behind the counter, Callie slides a tray of muffins into the display case.
Her hair is pinned up and her cheeks are flushed with effort.
The place feels just like it always does.
Bright, welcoming, and full of life, but today it feels quieter somehow.
Calmer.
There’s something different about mornings now.
They’re lighter.
Maybe even a little easier.
Almost as if the static in my head has finally quieted and I can just… be.
Lilah and Sloane have already claimed our usual corner table, their cups half-empty and a plate of crumbs between them. Kia sits with her mug cradled in both hands, her cheeks still flushed from the cold.
“Finally!” Sloane waves me over. “We were just about to send out a search party to find you.”
“Or we could’ve asked Oliver to check her location,” Lilah teases.
“Sorry.” I slide into the empty chair beside Kia. “I had to dodge a reporter on the way over. Apparently dating Oliver Van Doren qualifies as breaking news.”
Lilah hides a grin behind her herbal tea. “Sounds like one of the hazards of falling for a Railer.”
Kia shakes her head, a small smile playing around her lips. “I don’t know how you do it, having people constantly ask about your relationship.”
“Noise-canceling headphones help,” I say dryly.
Their laughter fills the bakery. It’s the kind of sound that seeps into your bones and reminds you that some things, and people, are worth holding on to.
For a long time, I didn’t realize how much I needed this. The belonging. The quiet kind of safety that comes from being surrounded by people who see the real you, not just the put-together version you portray to the world.
Callie joins us, wiping her hands on her apron before setting down a plate of still-warm cookies that almost look too pretty to eat.
“Emergency sugar therapy,” she says with a grin. “On the house.”
“Bless you.” Sloane snags one before the plate can fully land on the table.
Conversation flows as easily as it always does—fast, overlapping, and full of laughter.
We jump from weddings to nursery décor to who makes the best coffee at home.
Lilah claims Steele can replicate her exact order, which earns a groan from Sloane.
I confess Oliver still can’t figure out the espresso machine, and Callie turns pink when we point out that River happens to need a kiss after every morning skate.
She rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away.
It’s an ordinary morning, made up of small moments that add up to something more.
Sitting here, surrounded by them, I realize just how much my world has changed.
Maybe that’s why I love this place so much.
It reminds me that no matter how loud life gets, everyone needs somewhere that feels like a safe harbor.
Kia laughs along with us, but there’s something quieter beneath it, as if her mind is somewhere else.
Every so often, her hand drifts to her stomach.
It’s a subtle, barely-there gesture, but I notice.
When she catches me watching, she offers a small smile, gratitude flickering in her eyes before looking away.
I return the expression, a silent vow that her secret’s safe with me. Warmth passes between us, yet worry prickles beneath it. She’s trying so hard to be brave, to act like she has it all under control, but there’s fear behind her eyes. And it makes me want to protect her with everything I have.
The door opens and the quiet thud of shoes against tile pulls my attention before the bell even finishes chiming. A gust of wind rushes in, carrying the familiar chill of a Chicago autumn.
The shift in the bakery is instant as Steele, River, Oliver, and Laiken stroll in. It’s like someone changed the radio station and the air picked up a new beat. Conversations dip, then start again. The guys draw that kind of attention even when they aren’t trying to.
Steele spots us first, gaze zeroing in on Lilah, and crosses the room, his grin easy and infectious. River presses a kiss against Callie’s temple, stealing a cookie on his way. Oliver slides behind me, his hand finding my waist, his lips grazing my temple.
The world narrows to that single, familiar touch. For a long time, I used to tense when people looked at us. Now, I don’t care who’s watching.
Across the table, Kia goes still as her gaze settles on the Railers’ goalie.
“Laiken,” Callie says, breaking the quiet with the teasing warmth in her tone. “Nice to see you. It’s been a while.”
He lifts his hand to rub the back of his neck, a small, self-conscious gesture. “Yeah. I thought I’d pick something up for my daughter.”
Sloane exhales dramatically. “Oh my God, that’s so sweet.”
Kia’s brows lift slightly. “You have a daughter?”
“Elody,” I tell her with a smile. “She’s four years old and already has the whole hockey team wrapped around her finger.”
Laiken’s mouth curves faintly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “She definitely keeps me on my toes.”
Kia’s gaze lingers a beat too long, curiosity filling it, before she glances down at her mug. For a moment, the bakery feels suspended between laughter and a pause that stretches just long enough for something quiet and new to take shape.
The guys shift the conversation to hockey, charity events, and poker night until Laiken mentions that his sitter canceled and they might have to push it to the following week.
Oliver glances at his sister. “Kia, didn’t you used to babysit for some of the neighbors back in high school?”
She blinks in surprise. “Yeah, the Schmidt kids.”
Laiken opens his mouth to protest, but she beats him to it. “If you ever need a hand, I don’t mind helping out.” A faint flush stains her cheeks.
Laiken pauses before nodding. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
River claps Laiken on the shoulder. “Guess poker night’s back on.”
Steele grins. “You want to write me a check now or after I win?”
“Keep dreaming,” River mutters.
Laughter ripples around the group as Callie grabs a cookie from the case and slips it into a small white paper bag before handing it over. “Elody’s favorite.”
Laiken’s smile deepens. It’s the rare kind that reaches his eyes and changes his whole face. A few minutes later, the guys head out, a rush of cold following them as the door swings shut.
The sounds of the city filter in. The soothing scents of sugar and roasted coffee linger, though there’s something different in the atmosphere now.
Something that feels hopeful.
“Evelyn stopped by earlier,” Callie says with a sly grin. “She’s planning the next charity gala for Christmas.”
“Think there’ll be another bachelor auction?” Sloane asks. “And if so, will Oliver be one of the lucky guys up for grabs?”
Lilah chuckles. “Not if Rina has anything to say about it.”
Callie grins as she leans back. “Forget about Oliver. I want to know if there’ve been any new developments between Evelyn and Hugh. The last time I saw them, he mentioned she’d spent the night at his place.”
Sloane’s eyes widen. “Oh, that’s right. I’ve been dying for an update. Give us all the dirty details, Rina.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “PR mode activated—no comment.”
“Stop being a spoilsport,” Sloane says, smirking over her mug. “I’m hoping they’re having a secret torrid affair.”
Lilah snickers. “Please. For as long as I can remember, Evelyn has been at odds with that man.” She pauses, then adds with a shrug and a wink in my direction, “But stranger things have happened, like our bestie over here swearing she’d never fall for a hockey player. Especially one named Oliver Van Doren.”
Isn’t that the truth.
We keep speculating, caught somewhere between amusement and curiosity about what the next few months might bring.
Sloane lifts her mug. “To caffeine, cookies, and the women who make my life better.”
Lilah raises hers. “And to the men who somehow manage to keep up.”
Easy laughter fills the bakery again.
Outside, the day keeps moving. But in here, it feels like the world has slowed down enough to remind me what happiness really looks like.
It’s not the big wins or loud moments; it’s this.
The people you love.
The laughter that lingers.
And the quiet certainty that, for the moment, everyone’s exactly where they’re meant to be.