“Well, yeah, but it’s Winona’s company. Her ultimate responsibility.”

She sighs. “True, but I want her to be able to enjoy her trip without worrying about it, you know? I don’t know what I’m doing, though. I sit and stare at the numbers and try thinking up ways to change them, but…I guess I don’t really have a head for business.”

I pull the sandwich off the griddle and set it quickly on my wooden cutting board. “What about a business plan? Have you tried creating one? You start with the vision, identify problem areas, and then that can help you figure out some solutions for those areas. It kind of lays things out in a more helpful and purposeful way.” Setting down my spatula, I slice the sandwich in half—the melty cheese pulling deliciously from slice to slice—and scoot one half onto a paper towel. The heat bleeds through, as does a bit of the grease.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“I can send you the one I put together for the restaurant. It might help you get started. And I can look yours over when you’re done. If you want.” Turning, I offer the sandwich to her.

But she just blinks at me, frozen. “Really?”

“Really, Sunshine.” I press the sandwich into her hands.

“Thanks.” She takes it and blows on it, not taking her eyes off of me. I like her here, all casual in my domain, like she belongs.

More importantly, I like the pretty picture she makes when she finally closes her eyes—her nose scrunching ever so slightly—and takes a happy bite of the sandwich. She gasps, and her eyes fly open. “This is it!” Lucy waves the sandwich in the air like a victory flag. “Try it. We are geniuses.”

So I do—and she’s right. It’s even more perfect than the cilantro sandwich that flew out my window today.

“Sunshine, I could kiss you right now.”

And whhhhhy did I have to go and say a thing like that?

Her arm drops onto her lap, and she swallows quickly.

My brain isn’t computing. It’s short circuiting. One thought—must recover. Must recover. I laugh. “I just mean, it’s really good. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Her shoulders relax and she laughs along, though again, it’s stilted. Hopefully my inane comment didn’t make her uncomfortable again. I’m really going to have to rein things in with her. Because it’s clear that I’ve still got a mad crush on Lucy Reynolds.

Not on the girl she was then, but the woman she is now.

And that is a very big problem.

Because I can’t be the guy I was then. And I can’t let myself give in to what that guy wanted, either. What my dad said is still true—I don’t want any regrets. I don’t want a small life. And even if I did, I have to press on, to make him proud. If I fail at that, well…there’s really no other option for me, especially since he’s not here anymore.

Lucy bites her lip and slides off the counter sideways to avoid running into me. “I guess I’d better go. See you at h—” Her jaw drops, and before she can say the word “home,” she’s reaching across the counter toward the window.

Where there are still some of her BOGO fliers.

I ran out of the ones I stole from Alberta, so I finagled these from Burt’s auto shop. Burt promised not to tell Lucy. But now, it seems I’ve told on myself.

She lifts the flier. “What’s this?”

I scratch the back of my head. “A coupon.”

“Thanks, Einstein. I recognize it. Quite well, in fact. But why is there a stack of my coupons in your truck?”

Now it’s my turn to shrug. “I know you say we can’t possibly share customers, but I don’t think that’s true. Consider this my way of making up the theft you accuse me of.”

Will this upset her? Make her mad? I’ve known people who would be mortally offended by something like this, wanting to be able to prove they succeeded all on their own.

But not Lucy. Instead, she tackles me with a hug, pressing her face into my chest and wrapping her arms around my middle. “You didn’t have to do that.”

I take this opportunity to hug her back, setting my chin on the top of her head so I don’t do what I’m dying to—which is bury my nose in her hair and take a big whiff like some sort of stalker. “I wanted to.”

She looks up at me, and her eyes are watery. “You aren’t so bad, Flake.”

I chuckle softly. “Neither are you, Sunshine.”