Page 5 of Ryder
My head snaps up at the panic in Dana’s voice through the speaker.
“It just burst! There’s water everywhere, and the basement’s flooding, and Elise and Rhett are on a plane-”
I’m moving before she finishes the sentence, grabbing my keys. “Tell her I’m on my way. Jake-”
“Go.” He’s already packing up tools. “I’ll finish here and call the plumber.”
I break every speed limit between the ranch and town, trying not to think about Dana alone dealing with a disaster. Trying even harder not to think about how this might be exactly the excuse I need to finally do something about these feelings.
Or how terrifying that thought is.
Because Jake’s right. I’m scared. Scared of wanting something real. Scared of letting someone in close enough to matter. Scared of the way Dana makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, some things are worth the risk.
“Get it together, Winston,” I mutter, turning onto Main Street. “It’s just a burst pipe.”
But as I park in front of Hearts & Grinds and see Dana standing outside looking worried and beautiful and somehow making even crisis management seem graceful, I know I’m lying to myself.
It isn’t just a pipe.
It isn’t just anything.
And sooner or later, I’m going to have to decide if protecting my heart is worth missing out on something that could be extraordinary.
But first, I have a bakery to save.
I grip the steering wheel, taking a moment to just watch her through the windshield. She’s directing customers away from the door with apologetic smiles, her curly dark hair escaping its usual neat bun, that little worry line between her brows that always makes me want to smooth it away with my thumb. Even in crisis mode, she looks... right. Like she belongs here in Heart River, even though her mannerism and that hint of a New England accent sometimes remind me she comes from a different world.
The thing about Dana is, she makes everything better just by being near it. Not in that fake, society-perfect way Sarah cultivated, but in this genuine way that sneaks up on you. The way she remembers everyone’s kids’ favorite cookies. How she slips extra muffins to the high school kids during finals week. The quiet strength in her hands as she turns simple ingredients into something magical.
And yeah, maybe that’s part of what scares me. Because Sarah was all surface shine, easy to understand and ultimately easy to lose. But Dana? Dana has layers. Depths. She’s sugar and spice and everything I don’t deserve but can’t stop wanting.
Jake’s words echo in my head: “You’re scared of how real it could be.”
Damn right I’m scared. Because every morning when I walk into that bakery, it gets harder to pretend I’m just there for the coffee. Harder to keep my distance when all I want is to pull her close and find out if she tastes as sweet as the treats she bakes. Harder to maintain that careful wall between us when she looks up at me with those big hazel eyes and makes me forget every reason why this is a bad idea.
The truth is, I haven’t been looking for anything real. I’ve convinced myself I’m better off keeping things casual, keeping people at arm’s length where they can’t disappoint me. Where I can’t disappoint them.
But Dana... she makes me want to try.
Makes me want to be the kind of man who could deserve someone like her. Someone who chose following her dreams over following expectations. Someone who works hard and cares deeply and somehow still manages to see the best in people. Even a jaded ex-Marine with trust issues and a bad habit of hiding behind humor.
Water is starting to seep under the bakery’s front door now. I need to move, need to help, need to be the capable, confident guy everyone expects me to be. But for just one more moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to stop fighting this attraction. To finally take that risk.
To let myself fall for the girl who’s been quietly stealing my heart one cinnamon roll at a time.
“Stop being a coward,” I mutter, finally reaching for the door handle. “She needs help, not your emotional crisis.”
But as I step out into the Montana sunshine and see her face light up with relief at the sight of me, I know I’m only fooling myself. This thing with Dana stopped being simple a long time ago.
And maybe, just maybe, that isn’t such a bad thing.
Chapter 3
Dana
The sound of rushing water fills my ears as I stare at the rapidly spreading puddle in the bakery basement. The metallic tang of a burst pipe mixes with the lingering sweetness of morning pastries, creating a surreal contrast that makes my head spin. Above me, the ancient floorboards creak ominously.
“Please tell me there’s a shut-off valve somewhere.” Ryder’s voice echoes off the damp walls as he splashes through the ankle-deep water, flashlight beam dancing across exposed pipes. The musty basement air can’t quite mask his familiar scent of leather and cedar, and my traitorous heart does its usual flutter.
