17. Neesha
NEESHA
“ I ’ll take a small black decaf coffee along with the cupcakes,” Mrs. Nelson says as she steps up to the cafe counter to pick up her order for tonight’s historical society meeting.
“You got it,” I say, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I feel after last night’s cupcake-decorating marathon.
My feet are killing me. And honestly? I’d rather be home binge-watching Netflix with Henry.
Or— and I ’ m not proud of this —checking on my neighbor while pretending I’m cleaning my house.
The man could have his own reality show called Hot Guys Doing the Dishes and I’d be his biggest fan.
As I reach for a pen in my apron pocket, I pull out an old envelope, the one I found in the back room when I tripped over a box of old books.
“Mrs. Nelson, wait. I found this recently tucked inside some donated books. It’s a love letter from 1849, and I thought you might know who wrote it.”
She examines the envelope. “My goodness, look at that beautiful penmanship. What does it say?”
I hand her the letter to read. “Catherine…” She glances away like she’s trying to remember. “There were several Catherines in the old families, but without V’s last name, it’s hard to say which on e. This is fascinating though—a real piece of our town’s history.”
“Do you think we could find out more about them?”
“Oh, absolutely. I have access to all the old church records and family genealogies. This V fellow was quite the romantic.” She delicately folds the letter and tucks it inside the envelope. “I’ll do some digging and see what I can uncover about our mystery lovers.”
I hand Mrs. Nelson her coffee and cupcakes, watching her tuck a few dollars into the tip jar before she leaves. Then I take out the small carving Lucian made me from my other pocket and roll it around in my hand, admiring the intricate details.
“Who made that?” Emmy asks, appearing beside me with an armful of new releases.
“Lucian,” I say. “He gave it to me at Maple Fest on our first date.”
She studies it, shooting me a sideways glance. “That’s not exactly something you give someone on a practice date. He’s very persistent, isn’t he?”
I run my thumb over the smooth wood. “Persistent is one word for it. I don’t know why though. Hockey players aren’t typically this thoughtful.”
“Maybe this hockey player is.” She leans against the counter, flashing me a very Lorelai Gilmore look of I’m about to meddle in your life. “Maybe he’s thoughtful and romantic.”
I set the cupcake down on the counter. “I’ve made it clear I don’t have time for a relationship and I’m moving. I’m not sure what his game is.”
“His game?” Emmy tilts her head. “Lucian helped you make ten dozen cupcakes the other night. No man would do that unless they’re crazy about the woman who’s baking them.”
“Maybe, but it hardly qualifies as a date either.”
She scoffs. “You were together for how many hours?”
“All evening the night before he left for his away games.”
Emmy’s eyes widen. “The entire evening? ”
“It wasn’t like that,” I protest, even though he gave me his kitchen to use, luring me in with the new stove he bought.
I’ll be honest, I may have even drooled over his new stainless-steel double oven.
The guy barely cooks, except for those delicious waffles, which makes me think he might have bought this for me.
“I think you spend more time with Lucian alone than I spend with my fiancé,” Emmy says.
“We weren’t alone,” I say. “Henry was there.”
“Because he’s been so effective at keeping you two apart so far?” she says, her mouth tilting up slyly. “I remember you telling me you were curled up in his bed with Henry once already.”
My cheeks heat as I look away, pretending to busy myself with cleaning the counter. “I was worried about Lucian. And we’re both grown adults.”
“Mmm-hmm. Adults. Doing adult things.” She nods skeptically. “Because a good cuddle session always heals bruised ribs.”
I throw a crumpled napkin at her, which she avoids easily. “Admit it, I’m right,” she says with a slight smirk, crossing her arms. “You like him.”
I narrow my eyes. “I knew I’d regret telling you about the night I fell asleep next to him.”
“Neesha, when are you going to admit that this isn’t just practice anymore? You need to get back into the dating scene. It might as well be with someone who’ll treat you well.”
“You remember what Nate did to me. The way he tried to control who I talked to, where I went. He made me disappear piece by piece until I didn’t recognize myself.
” I busy myself rearranging cups that don’t need rearranging, just to avoid her.
“And I’m moving. This whole situation is too complicated. ”
“Only because you’re making it complicated.” She rounds the barista bar to corner me behind the counter. “He clearly adores you. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you look at him when you think no one’s watching. ”
I scoff lightly. “I do not.”
“The last time he came in here, you spilled coffee all over the counter because you were watching him talk to Mary-Ellen.”
“Mary-Ellen is the town’s biggest gossip. I don’t trust what she might say.”
“Neesha, he was giving her advice on fixing her dishwasher.”
“Yes, he’s always so helpful,” I mutter under my breath as I scrub the mug. “Which is exactly my problem.”
He fixes things without being asked and never makes me feel like I owe him anything in return. Every small gesture chips away at my resolve.
I told myself I wouldn’t get involved with anyone. Nate shattered my trust so completely that I swore off relationships until I could trust my own judgment again. The scary part is, I didn’t see things going downhill with Nate until it was too late. What if I’m wrong about Lucian too?
I turn back to the counter, my eyes landing on the grant application Mabel posted on our bulletin board, the one I’ve considered filling out about fifty times this week.
Twenty thousand dollars would be seed money, enough to start my own bakery.
But it would mean committing to Maple Falls for two more years, and I’m not sure I can do that.
Not when all my memories of Mom are here in Maple Falls, ripping open a wound that has never quite healed.
Starting over in a new city is more than just a business move—it’s the only way I can think to heal from my past.
Emmy catches me staring at the grant application. “Have you decided yet? The deadline’s coming up soon.”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Seattle has been the plan for so long.”
“Plans can change,” Emmy says. “Sometimes what we think we want isn’t what we actually need.”
I pick up the wooden cupcake figurine, turning it over in my hand. My heart squeezes every time I think about leaving this town.
But I can be happy without Lucian or Maple Falls, right?
Emmy sets aside her books and comes over, stopping in front of me. “Neesha, I get it. After what your mom went through, after Nate—of course you’re hesitant. But here’s what I’ve learned: The right person doesn’t feel like a risk you take. It feels like coming home.”
She leaves me with a look before heading out the front door of the shop on her way to another wedding appointment. I take down the grant application from the board, and spread out the pages, setting the cupcake figurine on top.
Even though this wasn’t part of my plan, there’s something tempting about the idea.
My own business, right here in Maple Falls.
No more baking in my tiny kitchen. No more saving every penny for a move that feels impossible.
This keeps my options open. I could use it to buy a food truck to sell my cupcakes at the farmers’ market—or basically anywhere in the region.
I could start an online business where I ship my cupcakes across the country.
Even renting a commercial kitchen space would be more affordable here than in Seattle.
My possibilities are almost endless when it comes to this money.
The only problem is my willingness to stay.
But two more years in Maple Falls means facing the possibility that what’s growing between Lucian and me might be setting myself up for another heartbreak if things don’t work out. Or worse, that they just might, and I fall completely for the hockey player next door.
And then what? My phone buzzes on the counter. I pick it up and see a message from Lucian.
Lucian
I have a surprise for you.
My heart does this annoying flutter thing that I absolutely cannot control every time he sends me a text. It’s becoming a serious problem.
Neesha
Should I be worried? Because the last surprise involved discovering you’re a professional athlete who forgot to mention that tiny detail.
Lucian
Come to the roof of the bookstore.
I blink at my phone. The roof?
Neesha
I don’t do heights. Or roof climbing. Or anything that involves potential death.
Lucian
Nice try. But you do fence climbing, remember? You’re not getting out of this. And there’s a fire escape.
Neesha
That’s not exactly reassuring. Plus, I’m still on the clock.
Lucian
You’re not working anymore.
I glance up to see that Emmy flipped our sign to “closed.”
Neesha
EMMY’S IN ON THIS??? How long have you two been plotting behind my back?
Lucian
Since this morning. She’s very enthusiastic about your dating life.
Neesha
But I don’t have a dating life!
Lucian
…yet, Cupcake. Now get up here before I come down and carry you up myself.
Neesha
You wouldn’t dare.
Lucian
Try me, Gilmore.
The fact that he used my last name makes my stupid heart flutter again.
Lucian
This is something I should have done weeks ago. Do you trust me?
And there it is—that word that makes me quake inside.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I head for the restricted door that I’ve passed a thousand times without ever opening.
Located in the back of the building, it leads to the rooftop of the bookstore—a place I’ve never had a reason to venture to before.