Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR | TARYN
My sandals clap against the concrete, the cool morning breeze sweeping against my legs and stirring my gray T-shirt dress that falls loosely over my frame. I reposition my crossbody, thankful they returned my wallet and a few other personal things, though I still have no phone.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get that back—their trust doesn’t stretch that far.
From the little they’ve allowed me to know about their past, I can’t blame them. They’ve stretched that rubber band before, and it snapped, leaving them with welts that cut deeper than knives in their backs ever could. And I just so happen to be their solution.
Or so they think.
A temporary solution that’s plastered over their wounds until they inevitably bleed through because I’m no replacement for a missing mother and a criminal father.
I peer around Main Street, observing as groups set up tents and speed walk to and from their cars, carrying crates and boxes to their designated Saturday market spots lining the sidewalks on both sides of the street.
The early-morning sun beats down, the warmth soaking into my bones and easing the tension seizing my muscles after being trapped on Lindenvale Hill.
At least they lengthened my leash a little.
I tear my gaze away from the busy street and lower myself to peer at Jess through the passenger door. “Where are we going? I thought we were heading to Cascade Springs?”
Jess slides her sunglasses onto her head and turns off the ignition, pointing at a building a few down from where we parked. “We are, but we’re stopping at The Honey Hut. We need coffee for the drive.”
She steps out and shuts the driver’s side door, the noise echoing off the row of shops in front of us. She opens the back door to let Tristan out of the back seat while I open Elena’s.
She sits in her car seat with her headphones on, her fingers tapping her tablet screen aggressively in an intense game of Fruit Ninja that kept her silent the entire ride besides the few angry puffs of air that slipped past her pouty lips.
“Let’s go, Little Miss. You’ll have an hour’s drive to try and beat your high score.” I chuckle, reaching over her to unclasp the seat belt.
Elena huffs in defeat, pulling her headphones off and ruffling the two French braids I gave her this morning.
She tosses the tablet into the middle seat and crosses her arms. “It’s Bren’s high score. He stole my tablet, and I haven’t been able to beat him.” Placing one hand in mine, she jumps out of the vehicle, her eyes locking on the buildings in front of us. “Oooh, are we going to The Honey Hut?”
Flying fruit forgotten, Elena’s sparkly sneakers drum on the pavement in pure excitement that her little body can’t contain. She doesn’t let go of my hand; she tugs me along, and we join her brother and Jess on the sidewalk.
Her infectious energy makes me smile.
And damn does it feel good to be out of that house and off the property.
“Miss Taryn,” Elena’s excitement holds my attention, “you’ll get to meet Addie!”
My focus shifts from the little girl gripping my hand to Jess. “Who’s Addie?”
“Adelaide is one of the reasons I wanted to stop here before we head out.” She shrugs. “I figured you might need a friend when I leave in a few days. She’s Cameron’s best friend, and we’ve been friends since he introduced us.”
My brow furrows. “She works at The Honey Hut?”
We stroll down the walkway, Elena pouncing on the sidewalk, attempting to jump over the lines separating the concrete.
I gasp in surprise as her petite body jerks mine forward, her momentum causing me to lose my balance and knock into Tristan next to me.
I apologize, but he takes a step away from me and picks up his speed, keeping his head down.
Jess shakes her head. “She owns it.”
My eyes widen. “She owns it?”
I remember Harrison Crock telling me to check The Honey Hut for a job. One of the few things I remember that night before the twins roofied me.
I’m pretty sure I’m making more money now, being a nanny held captive by three brothers, than I ever would’ve made with a job like that.
Still, I probably would’ve gone in and asked for a job anyway if things had turned out differently—had I woken up that following day still needing a job rather than instantly having one I never wanted.
“She used to spend every summer here with her grandmother, Sylvia. Her grandmother started The Honey Hut in the late ‘90s…I think. But she died two summers ago. Adelaide was left with everything and moved here from Seattle to continue running the business.”
We stop in front of a shop, its charcoal exterior contrasting with the cream and light-colored storefronts around it. A vintage bakery sign and black-and-white striped awning hang over the sidewalk, concealing us in the shade.
The two large windows facing the street feature a giant decal of a honey wand dripping onto a croissant. There are tall pots of various flowers and some two-person wooden tables, one of which is occupied by an elderly man sipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.
“Wow.” My eyes scan the bakery storefront again. “This place looks remarkable for being around since the ‘90s.”
Elena jumps up and down, nearly pulling my shoulder out of the socket.
“Her grandmother had all these big ideas for what she wanted it to look like, but never got the chance to remodel. After Adelaide took over, she put a lot of money into renovations and opened it back up a few months later.”
“What’s the inspiration behind the name?” I ask curiously.
She smiles, gazing at the decal. “Before her grandfather died, he always used to call her grandma Honey.”
My cheeks warm. It’s one of those simple things that makes you more attached to a place and its past.
When we walk inside, my eyes roam. The interior aesthetic completely matches the exterior.
There’s an accent wall coated in dark paint on the opposite side of the order counter.
Wood tables fill the space, and vining houseplants hang in the rafters.
Natural light drifts in through the front and rear windows.
The back of the bakery leads out to a deck with a view of the bay where Cedar Creek flows into the Columbia.
A few people are chatting and working on computers, sipping their drinks, or indulging in their baked goods.
Dainty hanging lights weave through the rafters and hang over glass cases of croissants, cookies, cakes, muffins, and several other pastries, making my mouth water.
The one natural brick wall behind the counter pulls everything together.
The ambiance of this bakery is impressive for a town of this size.
The fact that she had enough money to afford renovations like this is impressive.
My gaze immediately lands on the gorgeous honey-blonde girl who pushes through a set of kitchen doors and reaches into the glass case of various pastries. Her hair is in a messy bun, pieces framing her round face. She has a slim nose and gorgeous, rosy cheeks, probably from running around.
She places a muffin on a plate and calls out a name. She immediately smiles when her attention lands on us walking to the register. She thanks the man who comes up to pick up his order, wiping her hands on her black apron, which covers a short, floral summer dress.
“I was wondering when I would see my favorite customers again,” she beams.
Jessica rolls her eyes and stifles a laugh. “You say that to everyone.”
“But I actually mean it when I say it to you.” She winks at Elena.
Elena drops my hand and peers over the countertop at her. “Adelaide, this is my new nanny, Miss Taryn!”
Her vibrant blue eyes find mine.
This is Cameron’s best friend? Because, holy hell, I have no idea how he’s not dating her. I would date her if I were into women. Images of his face between my legs last night encourage the pang of jealousy stirring in my sternum.
I swallow, attempting to disregard the unwelcome feeling, and manage a smile to dissipate the tension. “Nice to meet you, Adelaide.”
A corner of her lips tugs upward at my greeting, and I can only wonder what thoughts are rummaging through her head at this moment.
I eye her suspiciously. “What?”
“I’m going to go see what Tristan wants,” Jess says, leaving me with Elena to find Tristan, who found a table at the back of the bakery near the patio doors.
Adelaide shakes her head. “You are awfully calm for someone who just moved to town and was—” She peers around, her eyes flicking from one corner of the room to the other. She lowers her voice to a level that has my heart thumping louder than her whisper. “Abducted.”
I don’t miss the hint of amusement slipping through her tone.
She straightens, her voice full of humor. “Cameron is horrible at keeping secrets from me. I’m surprised to see you because I thought it would be months before they let you off the hill. Those boys don’t trust easily.”
Yeah, I’ve figured that out.
“I told them I needed to get out, or I was going to go insane.”
She lifts a brow. “But you’re not running?” There is no hint of judgment laced with the humor in her tone. She’s genuinely curious.
She has this aura about her, one that clutches onto the tension swarming in my chest and draws it out in a form of honesty I’ve never had with strangers before her.
My lips roll, the breath in my lungs expelling leisurely. “Is it horrible to say that I’m making more now than I was with my teaching job?”
She gives me a suppressed grin. Running her hands along the smooth countertop, she says, “Not at all. We do what we do to survive, even if it’s unconventional in the eyes of society.
” She tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.
“And there’s nothing wrong with making decisions that make us content even if the circumstances want to convince us otherwise. ”