Page 110 of Finders Keepers

Gavin watches the movement, understanding dawning in his eyes. He reaches for my discarded top and hands it to me without looking, giving me privacy to button it.

“I shouldn’t have—” he starts.

“Please don’t apologize.” I slide off the counter, legs still wobbly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted this. I just…wanted to feel something other than fear.”

He nods, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve been through a lot. There’s no rush for anything.”

The gentleness in his voice nearly breaks me. I’ve spent so long bracing for anger that kindness feels almost more painful.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” he says softly.

We move through the darkened hallway in silence. When we reach the guest room door, I pause. Sophie’s soft breathing and Nugget’s occasional snuffles drift from inside.

“Thank you,” I whisper, “for understanding.”

His eyes are warm even in the darkness. “Always, Bailey.”

He hesitates, then leans forward slowly, giving me time to pull away. His lips brush against my forehead, a feather-light touch that makes my eyes sting with unexpected tears.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs against my skin.

“Goodnight,” I echo.

He steps back, waiting until I slip inside before heading to his own room. The soft click of his door closing echoes in the quiet house.

Ican’t seem to focus on the flower arrangement in front of me. The roses keep blurring as my mind drifts back to that night in Gavin’s kitchen. My cheeks flush at the memory of his hands, his lips… then the crushing wave of panic that followed. He’s been nothing but kind these past two days, giving me space while making sure Sophie and I have everything we need.

“Mama, look!” Sophie holds up her drawing, crayon marks creating a sunflower. She’s settled at the small table in the corner of the shop where Mary Beth keeps art supplies for visiting children.

“That’s beautiful, baby.” I force a smile, trying to ground myself in the present moment. The familiar scent of flowers usually calms me, but today my nerves feel raw, exposed.

The shop’s bell chimes and my heart lurches into my throat. The shears clatter from my trembling hands onto the wooden workbench.

“Bailey?” Mary Beth’s concerned voice carries from her office. I hear her chair scrape against the floor as she stands to check the front.

I grip the edge of the workbench, willing my breathing to slow. Sophie continues coloring, humming softly to herself, oblivious to my distress.

“Oh, Molly! What a lovely surprise.” Mary Beth’s warm greeting floods me with relief.

Just Molly.

“I come bearing caffeine!” Her cheerful voice grows closer. “I figured you guys could use an afternoon pick-me-up.”

I straighten up, wiping my sweaty palms on my apron as she rounds the corner into the workspace. Her copper hair is curled in loose waves and it sways with her every step. She’s juggling a drink carrier and what looks like a pastry bag.

“Hey y’all.” She sets everything down on a clear spot of the workbench. “I brought you a Honey Lavender Latte. Beau said you liked it the other day when you came in.”

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” My voice comes out shakier than I’d like.

“Course I did. That’s what friends are for.” She pulls out a cup and hands it to me, then peers at my unfinished arrangement. “Though it looks like you might need something stronger than coffee. Everything okay?”

Before I can answer, Sophie spots her. “Miss Molly!” She abandons her drawing and runs over for a hug.

“There’s my favorite artist!” She says. “What masterpiece are you working on today?” As Sophie shows Molly her drawing, I take a long sip of coffee, letting its warmth settle my nerves. Mary Beth catches my eye from the doorway and gives me a sympathetic nod.

“So what brings you in today, Molly?” Mary Beth asks, moving to arrange some fresh stock.

“Oh! I need something for my dining room table. Will’s parents are coming for dinner tomorrow and I want it to look nice.” She says looking around the space. “Any suggestions?”

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