Page 33 of Deal Breaker
Her lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile. “You’ve been watching me.”
I nod, slow and deliberate. There’s no point in denying it. “Guilty, and to answer your question… yeah. Or investors. But mostly my brothers.”
“Then why me?”
I hold her stare. “Besides Jesse setting it up, you mean? We spent so many hours dreaming about something like Cove. You had such a vision for it. I wanted to see if you still have that fire in you.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. “And?”
I smirk. “Nothing’s changed.”
She looks down at her glass. A small smile curves her lips, but there’s a flicker of emotion there.
I lean in slightly, keeping my voice low. “Why’d you come back here, June? There are plenty of jobs you could have gotten that aren’t in Deep Cove.”
Her gaze shoots up to mine. The nickname hits its mark, just like I knew it would.
“I told you, ”she says, voice lighter now. “To buildsomething new, And my parents are here so this seemed like a good place to do it.”
I nod, but I’m not ready to let it go. “So that’s what you came back to do. Why did you leave in the first place?”
Her lips part, and for a moment, I think she might actually tell me. That she might finally give me the piece of the puzzle I’ve always been missing. But she only shakes her head gently. “Some things hurt too much to look at.”
I sit with that. Let it sink in. Because I know exactly what she means.
Our food arrives, and the moment breaks but it lingers like smoke between us.
Landyn shifts in her seat, giving a small, appreciative sound at the sight of her food. “Okay,” she says, picking up her fork. “Truce over roasted chicken?”
I nod, lips twitching. “If that’s what you want, June.”
FOURTEEN
Landyn
The door to Breakwater Bistro clicks shut behind us, and the night air cuts sharp against my skin. The warmth of the restaurant lingers, but the nerves are starting to build again, curling low in my stomach.
Ford’s already a step ahead, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark blue denim, head tilted like he’s considering something.
“Walk with me?” he asks.
His voice is low, unreadable, but something in the way he says it makes it impossible to say no.
We fall into an easy pace, side by side down Front Street. Most of the shops are closed, quiet and darkened behind frosted windows. The quiet feels like a bubble, soft and private, like the world forgot we were still here.
We pass a familiar storefront, and I pause. “Didn’t this used to be a record shop? That one we loved?”
He glances over his shoulder at the sleek candle boutique it’s become. “Yeah. Don’t you remember, you triedto convince the cashier to let you DJ from behind the counter.”
I roll my eyes. “I played one Stevie Nicks song.”
“You played three. And danced in the aisle.”
I laugh, and it comes out breathless and real. It feels good. Dangerous, but good.
We keep walking, the sidewalk gleaming faintly from a recent drizzle. Our hands brush. Once. Twice. The third time, his pinky curls ever so slightly around mine, but it doesn’t stay long. Just enough to make my pulse stutter and my skin erupt in a shiver.
At the far end of the street, the town opens to a lookout point above the water. He and I stand at the railing overlooking the ocean below, the sound of the tide rolling in slow and steady. Wind lifts my hair, and I hug my arms around myself. Ford stands beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat of him. His eyes are on the dark, moonlit horizon.
