Page 37 of Sweet Surrender

“That’s wonderful,” Charlotte said with a big smile. “I’d honestly love to see it when they’re finished. I only moved to town last year, and I feel like I still have so much to learn.”

But Olivia only smirked and headed for the house, clearly convinced that something more was going on between Becca and Zane.

Becca’s eyes went to Zane without meaning to.

He gazed back at her, his dark eyes so intense that Becca felt a funny little tingle in her chest.

“I’d better get going,” she said, her voice a little too bright. “But it was so nice to meet you all.”

She drove back into town, listening to Christmas music on the radio. And by the time she got home, she had almost convinced herself that she’d been mistaken about Zane wanting to kiss her, and that it was all just something she’d imagined after a day filled with too much sentimentality and really good beef stew.

But at least she was pretty sure he didn’t hate her anymore.

12

ZANE

Zane hopped out of his truck and walked down Maple Street to the diner the next day. The winter air swirled around him, Christmas lights twinkled on the storefronts, and he felt a rush of excitement about what he was going to do today, in spite of that being completely out of character.

What is happening to me?

The bells over the door jingled as he stepped inside. A few of the locals eating a late breakfast or an early lunch looked up. But he didn’t have time to do more than throw a wave at a few of the locals on his way to place his order.

“Hey there,” Tara said cheerfully from behind the counter. “What can I get for you?”

“I’d like two grilled cheese sandwiches and two tomato soups,” he told her. “To go, please.”

“You and your brother on the road today?” she asked politely.

“Nah,” Zane said, choosing not to elaborate.

“Oh,” Tara said after a moment. “Well, I’ll get right on it. And I can put your soups in a big thermos if you don’t mind bringing it back another day?”

“That sounds great, thanks,” Zane said, nodding. “I’ll bring it back in the morning. And can I get two hot cocoas, too?”

“Sure thing,” Tara said with a smile. “Hang tight, and I’ll get you squared away.”

She headed off to the kitchen with a smile on her face. There was a woman who loved her job.

Tara Winters was relatively new to town. But her café, Bean Counters, was already a fixture, enjoyed by flatlander tourists and locals alike. And it wasn’t hard to figure out why. The food was delicious and reasonably priced, and the diner was set on the corner of Maple Street and Moose Avenue, so it had a really wonderful view of the park.

Zane gazed out at the playground while he waited. Parents and caregivers watched their preschool aged little ones darting around among the swings and slides. And behind the playground was a pavilion worthy of a Christmas movie.

Zane had never really been interested in the movies, and not at all interested in romance movies. But his mother loved them, and he loved her.

When his ex-wife disappeared, he’d naturally taken to spending more time with his family. His first Christmas on his own, he and Mom had watched half a dozen of her favorites while they’d each held a sleeping baby.

He hated to admit it, but he thought of that time often. Maybe it was the peace of curling up on the lumpy sofa with one of his boys on his chest, his mom beside him with the other, the fire crackling, and the little television flickering with pretty people falling in love against beautifully wintry backdrops. Whatever the reason, he found himself thinking about love and resilience again this year.

But the people in the movies weren’t like the ones in real life—just like the snow in the park across the street was now covered in muddy boot prints, and one of the holly boughs onthe pavilion had come loose and was hanging untidily toward the railing. Real life was messy.

And in the real world, a pretty young schoolteacher like Becca wouldn’t fall for a farmer like me. And even if I thought she might, I wouldn’t risk the boys’ stable life just to chase after her. Things are just fine as they are.

“Here you go,” Tara said brightly. “Two grilled cheese sandwiches, two cups of soup, and two hot cocoas, to go.”

“Thanks, Tara,” he said.

He paid and headed out again, taking a deep breath of the cold, bright air, and trying not to overthink what he was doing.

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