Chapter 13 #2
"Then you're forgiven for giving me a heart attack." Sonny gestured to the small table near the back. "Come on. Let's see what you got."
April turned on the sound system, queued up the coffee shop channel, and the first song that came on randomly was “Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop” because of course it did.
They settled around the table—coffee steaming in mismatched mugs, Kevin already elbow-deep in the donut box, Pete lying at Shane's feet with his chin on his paws.
April sat between her father and Shane, hyperaware of both of them, feeling like she was seventeen again and trying to hide a secret in plain sight.
"So," Sonny said, wrapping both hands around his mug. "You gonna sit around here all day and stare at my daughter while she works?”
“No, Grandpapa. We’re going on a hike,” Kevin said through a mouthful of donut, his lips white with powdered sugar. “But I’ve gotta finish my homework first.”
“A hike, huh?" Sonny’s gaze hadn’t shifted from Shane’s.
"Yes, sir,” Shane said as he dipped a piece of chocolate cake donut into his coffee. “Eldorado Canyon. Kevin was asking about learning some wilderness skills."
Sonny nodded slowly. "And you're going too, April?" He continued to stare at Shane.
"Yup.” She popped the ‘P.’ “If I can keep up. It’s been a while since I went on a hike, but it’ll be a great way to work off this donut.”
Shane's eyes traveled over her—just a flicker, but enough to make her skin warm. "You look perfect."
Sonny cleared his throat loudly.
"I mean—you’re dressed appropriately. For hiking." Shane took a long drink of coffee.
Kevin, mercifully, was too busy picking out another donut to notice the adults being weird.
"Kevin, honey, why don't you go get set up in the office?" April said. “The sooner you start, the sooner you’re done.”
"Okay!" Kevin grabbed one more donut and headed for the back, Pete trailing him like a furry shadow hoping for a bite of donut.
Once he was gone, Shane turned to Sonny. "Sir, I wanted to ask your permission for something."
Sonny's eyebrows rose. "Go on."
"April mentioned that the espresso machine was still acting up. I called a friend of mine this morning—Ben Massey. He's a blacksmith, does a lot of custom metalwork.”
“I know him.”
“Yeah, of course.” Shane ducked his head, which April found amusing.
He might be grown up, but her father had a way of sending him right back to high school.
“I told him about the situation and he said he might be able to machine some parts, buy you some more time before you have to replace the whole unit. "
April's heart did something complicated in her chest. Shane was trying to help without making it about money or charity, just... problem-solving.
Sonny was quiet for a moment. "Ben Massey’s a good man. Made a heat exchanger for my elderly neighbor last winter, wouldn't take a dime." Sonny nodded slowly. "If Ben thinks he can help, I'd be grateful. When's he coming by?"
"I can call him now. Said he could be here around eight-thirty, if that works for you."
"It works." Sonny stood and collected empty mugs. "I appreciate you thinking of us, Shane."
The us landed differently than family had, turning Shane back into an outsider. April winced just a little bit inside on Shane’s behalf. He’d looked so happy, so pleased when her father made the family comment.
Ben arrived at eight-thirty on the dot. April heard his truck before she saw it—the distinctive rumble-purr of an engine that had been maintained with the kind of care Ben brought to everything he touched. April went to the entrance to unlock the door.
He filled the doorframe because the man was built like a mountain like his friend Bear, and April felt the years fall away. She was eighteen again, watching Ben lumber toward her in that bus station, carrying money she wouldn't take and an apology that wasn't his to make.
"Hey, April," Ben said, his voice that same low rumble she remembered. Even though they increasingly moved in the same circles, Ben stayed quiet and often left early.
"Hi, Ben." She gave him her brightest, most welcoming smile. "Thanks for coming on short notice."
"No problem." His eyes shown with gentle kindness. "Heard you've got an espresso machine giving you trouble."
"Giving us hell is more like it," Sonny shouted from behind the counter. True to form, it had started acting up again. "But if anyone can sweet-talk it into behaving, it's probably you."
April led Ben toward the temperamental machine.
“She’s an old beauty, isn’t she?” Ben asked as he ran a hand over the silver machine.
Sonny beamed. “She sure is. I don’t want to replace her if I can avoid it. She’s part of Riversong’s image.”
Shane joined them, and April watched the easy way he and Ben moved around each other—the shorthand of old friends, the comfortable silence of men who'd been through hell together.
They started taking a panel off the machine, discussing pressure valves and plumbing and heating elements in a language April only half understood.
She busied herself with opening prep—checking the till, filling the cream pitchers, restocking the pastry case when the local bakery made its delivery, thinking she might have to stop in and say hello at the new donut place and get some in here because they were incredible.
She checked in on Kevin who sat bent over his homework, actually focusing for once.
And every few minutes, she found herself watching Shane.
The way his hands moved, confident and sure. The way he listened when Ben explained something, nodding, asking smart questions. The way he laughed at something Sonny said, his whole face transforming when he was included.
This was Shane in his element—solving problems, helping people, being useful. No flash, no performance. Just quiet competence and genuine care.
April's throat went tight.
Around nine-fifteen, Ben straightened and pulled a small notebook from his pocket. "I need to grab some measurements, check what I've got in my workshop. Give me about twenty minutes."
"Thanks again," Sonny said.
Shane glanced at his watch, then toward the office. "Kevin! Want to help me take Pete for a quick stroll?"
Kevin appeared in the doorway, pencil still in hand. "Can I?" He looked at April.
"How’s your homework coming."
"Good. I just have math left."
"Then you can go."
Kevin smiled and vanished to get Pete, and Shane caught April's eye. Something passed between them—a look that said we'll talk later and I'm here and a dozen other things she didn't have words for.
Then he was gone, Pete and Kevin at his heels, and the back door swung shut behind them.
April and Sonny were alone.
I should get back to prep work. Check inventory. Do literally anything other than stand here with my father while my thoughts tangle themselves into knots.
But Sonny was watching her with that expression—the one that said he saw right through every defense she'd ever built.
“Does Kevin know it’s his father Shane’s protecting you from?”
She flinched. “No. All he knows is that his bio-father didn’t want to be a dad and that he’s missed out on one hell of a good kid.”
“When’s the last time he asked about his father?”
April's hands clutched a dishtowel. “It’s been a while. Not since…” she trailed off. Not since he’d started idolizing Shane, she realized.
Through the window, they watched Shane and Kevin rounding the building to the front of Riversong, Pete trotting proudly at the end of his leash. Shane was speaking, probably teaching Kevin something—how to read dog body language, maybe, or some other small lesson in paying attention.
Kevin was eating it up, hanging on Shane's every word.
"He's good with Kevin," Sonny said quietly.
"Yeah," April said, her voice coming out rough. "He is."
"Kevin adores him."
"I know."
"You're scared." It wasn't a question.
April tried to swallow past the sudden thickness in her throat as she tried to find words to address the old fear that had gone into hiding deep in her chest when Shane kissed her the night before.
"Of course I'm scared.” She bit her lip as her deepest fear rose to the surface—the real reason she’d pushed Shane away ever since Kevin started to idolize him.
“I'm afraid to take the chance that he'll walk away. Again.” She wiped her eyes.
“Look at them, Papa. Kevin's already so attached. And Shane—”
“What about Shane?”
“He isn't Kevin's real father. I can’t afford to believe he’ll always love Kevin like his own.”
The silence that followed filled the shop like cold lead.
When April finally looked at her father, his face had gone tight with something that looked like deep disappointment.
"April," he said, and his voice carried a weight she rarely heard. "How can you say that?"
She blinked, thrown by his tone. "I just meant—"
"We took your cousins in whenever my sister and her lousy husband got picked up for possession and intent to sell.
" Sonny's jaw worked. "Brianna ended up staying with us for years.
She grew up right next to you and your sister.
She's not my daughter, but do you think I love her any less for that? Any less than I love you and Hannah?”
April's stomach dropped. "Papa, that's not what I—"
"Even her brother, for all his problems, I still love him as I would my own son." Sonny turned to face her fully. "There is no difference in my heart. For you to even think that is the biggest insult you could ever lay on me."
"I didn't mean—" April's voice cracked. "It's different. They’re still blood. They’re still your sister's kids—"
"No." Sonny's voice was firm. "There is no difference, April. Love isn't about biology. It's about showing up. It's about choosing, every single day, to be there." He gestured toward the window. "And it's the biggest insult you could ever lay on Shane."
Tears slid unhindered down April’s cheeks.