“You drove, right?” He nodded, and she kissed his cheek then gave his butt a pat. “We’ll talk more later about the logistics. I’d start packing your stuff, though. The sooner you move in, the faster Junie will be out.”

While Leanne’s mom seemed nicer than his parents, he understood not wanting to live under the same roof. He’d been withering for years without having the wherewithal to remove himself from that situation. Until the solution appeared like magic in the form of an irresistible redhead sweeping him off his feet.

Since he was on the square already and there was time on his meter, he walked over to Sugar Daddy’s instead of going straight home. Downtown St. Claire was charming, though he rarely took advantage of the cool stuff they had going on. There would be a food festival soon, with restaurants offering samples at stalls all around the old courthouse, and he’d heard the city would be starting a community garden next year. Absently, he cataloged the minor changes: the hardware store had repainted the trim, and the Realtor had a new sign.

Hopefully, Titus had time to talk. Trev needed to tell someone, and Titus had been a loyal friend for most of their lives. Trev could admit he hadn’t made it easy the past few years. Maya was working the front counter as usual; she greeted him with a squeezy hug.

He patted her back in fraternal fashion. “All good, little Winnaker?”

“Why are you still calling me that?” she demanded.

“Habit. Can the big man come out and play?”

“I’ll ask.” She went to the galley door that led to the kitchen and cracked it enough to call, “Titus! Trev’s here. Do you have a minute?”

“Make him a coffee, and tell him I’ll be out in five,” Titus yelled back.

“I got that,” Trev said, taking a seat at the table farthest from the door.

The bakery was truly remarkable, a monument to a dream Titus had realized, thankfully before his mother passed away. Everything about the place was adorable, from the mint chocolate chip interior design to the white wrought iron tables. And the smell—he inhaled deeply to appreciate the mixed deliciousness of butter, caramel, coffee, chocolate, and cinnamon.

A minute later, Maya brought the drink to him. “Flat white. Did I get it right?”

He sipped. “It’s perfect. What do I owe you?”

“Please. I don’t know why you bother offering. Titus wouldn’t take your money even if you ate everything in the pastry case.” She smiled to soften the disparaging words. “You’re family, you jerk.”

“You love me.”

They bickered playfully until more customers came and demanded Maya’s attention. He nursed his drink until Titus came out, all geared up in baker’s togs. Taking the seat opposite Trev, he said, “This is rare. What’s up?”