Page 100 of Falling for Love

His response came back with lightning speed.

Who said anything about shining armor? I was thinking of jeans and boots. Much more practical. Maybe a cowboy hat.

I laughed out loud, the sound surprising even me. I hadn’t laughed like that in days, and it felt good—really good.

There was something comforting about his persistence and the way he refused to let me face this alone.

I set my phone down and took a long sip of coffee.

Glancing out the window, I watched the last of the school bus’s snow drifts settle on the road, and I let myself dream of what it might be like to let someone else in.

To let Liam in.

But imagining and doing were two very different things. And for now, I wasn’t sure I was ready for the leap.

He wanted to help. He wanted to stand beside me. And yet, here I was, spinning in circles, unsure if I should let him.

I needed advice, someone to give me a fresh perspective on this mess. But not just anyone. Someone who wouldn’t judge or push too hard. Someone who would hand me a cup of coffee and a dose of common sense.

Abby.

The thought of her coffee shop made me exhale a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Abby moonlighted as the unofficial therapist of Buttercup Lake.

If you had a problem, Abby was the person to go to—warm, no-nonsense, and always armed with a pot of coffee and a listening ear.

Grabbing my coat and keys, I decided it was time for a much-needed caffeine boost and a heart-to-heart.

The drive was quick, and a parking spot out front made me realize that this venture out of my house was meant to be.

I stepped into Buttercup Java, the familiar aroma of roasted beans and baked goods wrapping around me like a hug. The place was alive with the quiet conversation and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine.

It was cozy, with mismatched chairs and tables, twinkle lights strung along the exposed beams, and a chalkboard menu that always included a pun of the day.

Today’s read: Espresso yourself now—it’s latte than you think!

The tension in my shoulders began to ease when I spotted Abby behind the counter, pouring a latte with the practiced ease of someone who’d been doing this for years.

“Evie!” she called out, her face lighting up when she saw me. “Haven’t seen you in a few days. How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know,” I said, forcing a smile as I walked up to the counter. “Life. Chaos. The usual.”

“Chaos, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, sliding the latte onto the counter and turning to the register. “Sounds like you need a caramel macchiato and a seat at the bar. Am I right?”

“You’re not wrong,” I admitted, pulling out my wallet.

She waved me off.

“Your money’s no good here today. Sit. Tell me what’s got you all twisted up. I can see it in your eyes.”

I hesitated, glancing around the room. A few regulars were scattered at the tables, but it wasn’t busy enough to make me feel rushed or out of place.

“Thanks, Abby.”

“Anytime,” she said, making my drink and sliding it across the counter.

I took a seat at the corner of the bar, where the counter curved slightly to give a perfect view of the room. Abby wiped her hands on a towel and leaned on the counter, her sharp gaze focused on me.

“Alright, spill,” she said. “What’s going on?”

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