Chapter Fourteen – Rachel
A kiss. What had she been thinking?
One minute she had been telling Elliott the truth about her fear, laying it out in plain words because there had been no point dressing it up any longer. The next, she had been leaning toward him, her hand on his shoulder, kissing him as though that had been the most natural thing in the world.
And the worst part was that it had.
Rachel looked out over the valley, though she barely saw it now. Bear Creek lay below them in the clear morning light, roofs and roads and trees washed pale by the sun, but her mind was nowhere near the view. It was still caught on the quiet shock of what had just happened.
But she didn’t regret it. How could she, when it was what she had wanted?
And by the look on Elliott’s face, it was exactly what he had wanted too.
That was the trouble.
If the kiss had felt awkward, if it had jarred or disappointed or made her pull back at once, all of this would be easier. She could have said it was a mistake.
But it wasn’t. It was right. Wanted.
And now everything was messier than it had been an hour ago.
Yet she still could not bring herself to wish it undone.
Elliott sat beside her, looking hopeful in a way that made her chest feel tight all over again.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, as if breaking the silence might break the spell of the moment.
And it was a magical moment.
Rachel became acutely aware of every small detail. The warmth of the paper cup between her hands. The open cake box on the bench between them. The taste of coconut and lime still lingering at the back of her mouth. The place on her shoulder where his hand had hovered, careful even in closeness.
It had all been far too easy. That was what unsettled her.
He let out a long breath and looked out across the town.
“Are you talking to that bear of yours again?” Rachel asked, recognizing the distant look that crossed his face.
“Guilty as charged,” he said, a small smile touching his lips.
How strange that must be. Another voice inside your head. Not your own thoughts, but something separate.
“More coffee?” He reached for the thermos.
“No, I need to get home and then get to work.” The practicality of her own words surprised her. How could she sound so normal when everything felt so different?
“Of course,” he said, and quickly packed everything away, folding the box that had held the cakes.
He did it without fuss, without making her refusal mean more than it did, and that only made something inside her tighten further.
If he had pushed, if he had looked wounded, if he had tried to coax her into staying a little longer, she might have found it easier to steady herself.
But Elliott only nodded and began tidying the remains of the morning with the same quiet competence he seemed to bring to everything.
They stood up, ready to leave, and the truth of what had just happened seemed to close in around Rachel. The kiss. The confession. The step they’d taken that couldn’t be untaken. Her chest tightened with sudden panic.
She stopped and touched his arm. “There’s one thing.”
“Anything,” he said, turning to face her fully.
The ease of the answer almost made her lose her nerve. Anything. As though he had not learned by now that she was rarely asking for simple things.
“The restaurant.” She clenched her jaw, hating how difficult this was to ask.
“The restaurant?” he asked, confusion crossing his face.
“I...” she stuttered, the words sticking in her throat.
For a second, she wished she had left it.
Wished she had simply smiled, thanked him for the coffee and the cakes and the walk, and gone home with the kiss still warm on her mouth and the rest of it unspoiled.
But that would not solve anything. By lunchtime, she would be in the restaurant, imagining a hidden meaning in every glance, every comment, every sideways smile from one of his brothers, and the strain of that would undo her.
“Rachel?” He reached for her hand, and she felt that instant connection between them. That undeniable sense of rightness that frightened her almost as much as it comforted her.
He frowned as he watched her expression. “I mean it. Anything.”
She looked down at their joined hands, at how naturally his fingers had folded around hers, and had to steel herself before she spoke.
“I know how this sounds,” she said quietly. “And I’m not pretending this morning didn’t happen.” Her throat tightened, but she pushed on. “I’m glad we talked. I’m glad you came. I’m just...” She let out a breath. “I’m not ready for the restaurant to be part of this.”
Understanding flickered across his face, but he remained silent, letting her finish.
“When I’m working, I need things to feel normal,” she said.
“Or as normal as they can be. The girls are there sometimes, your family is there all the time, and everybody notices everything. If you start turning up and looking at me differently, or if I start looking at you differently, someone will see. Lucy will absolutely say something. Aria will notice even if she doesn’t. And I’m just not ready for that.”
She gave him an apologetic little shrug. “So... I know I don’t really have the right to ask, but when I’m working... will you stay away unless it’s absolutely necessary?”
Elliott’s expression cleared, understanding dawning. “You don’t want everyone to know about us.”
“No,” she replied, relief washing through her that he understood so quickly. “Not yet. I mean, people talk. Especially your family. And I know they’ll be happy for us. But it’ll be too much.”
That last part was meant lightly, but it landed close to the truth. She liked his family. That was part of the problem, too. This would not stay small for long; it would snowball too fast. Take on a life of its own, and she was not ready for the girls to be swept up in that. Not yet.
“I’ll stay away,” he said, and then tilted his head. “Come on, let’s get you back to your car.”
There was no protest. No hurt look. No, trying to persuade her that she was being silly. Just acceptance.
Rachel felt her eyes sting unexpectedly and blinked the feeling away before it could become anything foolish. “Thank you,” she said, and kissed his cheek, a brief moment of warmth against his skin.
He blushed and put his hand to his cheek where her lips had touched, and they set off down the path, her hand still in his, the contact calming her frayed nerves.
Only when someone approached did he let her hand go. If she didn’t want his family to know, then no one could know. She flashed him a smile of thanks, grateful for his understanding.
They walked down together, and then to her car parked outside the school. She got in, and he shut the door. Then she smiled, taking one last look at him before she drove away.
It was only a short drive, but all she could think about was Elliott and how things had changed between them. She caught sight of herself in the rearview mirror as she stopped outside the house, and the color in her cheeks was enough to make her shake her head at herself.
She got out and went inside. As long as no one saw them together, she could keep her composure. She’d learned to put on a face when Mark left. She’d learned to hide her pain. Only this time she needed to hide her happiness.
That thought stopped her just inside the front door.
Happiness.
She had not meant to call it that, even in her own head. But there it was. A truth that felt undeniable.
The house was quiet when she entered, still holding the lingering scent of last night’s cake. Rachel set her keys down on the hall table and leaned against the wall, letting out a shaky breath. She pressed her fingers to her lips, still feeling the ghost of Elliott’s kiss.
“What are you doing?” she whispered to herself.
Everything was happening so fast. One moment she was explaining all her reasons for caution, for keeping distance, and the next she was kissing him as if those reasons didn’t matter. But they did matter. The girls mattered. Their stability mattered.
And yet... that kiss.
Rachel moved to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, drinking it slowly. She needed to pull herself together before work. She couldn’t walk into the restaurant looking like this—flushed and distracted, with her emotions written all over her face.
She set the glass down and stared for a moment at the container holding the rest of the cake. Lucy and Aria had talked about the cake this morning over breakfast. About Elliott.
That was the thread running underneath all of it. She wasn’t only risking her own heart, though that was frightening enough. She was risking the girls. Their trust.
But for a man like Elliott, the risk no longer felt quite so easy to dismiss.
Rachel squared her shoulders. She could do this. She could take things slowly, keep them private until she was sure. Until she knew whether this fragile thing between them had any chance of lasting.
She could only move forward—carefully, cautiously, one small step at a time.
She did not want to name what sat between them yet. Not fully. Not beyond the bond, the kiss, the tenderness of the morning. Love was too large a word to put down on something so new, especially with all the old fear still wound through it. But neither could she pretend anymore that this was small.
With a deep breath, Rachel checked her reflection in the hallway mirror, smoothed her hair, and prepared to face the day. She had work to do, children to care for, and a life to maintain. The happiness would have to stay hidden, at least for now.
But as she gathered her things to leave, she couldn’t help the small smile that crept across her face. For the first time in a long time, the future held something more than just stability.
It held something she had not allowed herself to expect in a very long while.
And that, she thought as she reached for the door, might be even more frightening than letting herself hope.