Happily ever after. The words stung even though the woman delivering them hadn’t meant them to be hurtful. Purchasing the Way Station Café had been Ms. Byrdie’s idea—a way Lane could make use of her sleepless nights. When Ms. Byrdie explained the way she’d been serving the community through Friday Night Club, Lane found it to be an easy decision. And the café kept her busy. And busy meant Lane didn’t have to think about her past. Or her guilt. Or her broken happily ever after.

Lane grabbed the bag of sugar. “I think this town has an insatiable sweet tooth.”

“It is the South, shugah.” Ms. Byrdie winked and then disappeared back to the front.

An hour and a half later, Lane placed the last pinwheels of dough and cinnamon sugar onto a tray before pulling a hot batch of cinnamon rolls out of the oven and setting them on a rack to cool. She cleaned up the bowls, put away the remaining ingredients, marked down what they’d need from their supplier, and was about to head upstairs when she heard his voice. The cadence of his words set her heart marching in her chest.

“I could smell these two blocks away.”

Lane edged her way down the hallway and peeked around the corner of the kitchen. The man could wear a uniform, that was for sure. She sighed and his name escaped her lips. “Charlie.”

“Morning, Lane.” His lips slipped into a smile. “Someone said these cinnamon rolls are the best thing in Walton.”

“Charlie’s here to pick up the last batch of cinnamon rolls. We’re officially sold out.” Ms. Byrdie looked at her watch. “Less than two hours. I think that’s a record. Right, Lane?”

Had he heard her whisper his name? She stepped out of the hallway and toward the counter, hoping it looked like she meant to come this way and wasn’t just called out for hiding. He was watching her with those eyes, those big blue eyes that felt like an ocean she could easily drift away in. Lane shook her head. “Uh, yeah, I think so. I’m just going to go start icing those.”

She was about to turn when the toe of her shoe caught the edge of an auction item box, sending it and her careening forward. Lane cringed knowing she was going down, when a pair of strong arms slipped under her right before impact.

“Gotta watch out for boxes,” Charlie teased. “They’ll jump out and grab you.”

Lane’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Seriously? At this point it probably looked like she was throwing herself at him. She disentangled herself from his grip, struggling to ignore the woodsy scent of his skin and the way the entire scenario made her feel less stable now than she had when she was falling.