Oh, yes, she needed to slow down and spend some more time there at Sunny Days. She smiled as she climbed into bed. For the first time since she’d fallen, she was certain everything would work out just the way it was supposed to.

Chapter Ten

Her stomach shivered with nerves.

Early the next morning, Hannah told herself that it was her excitement over making her dreams come true and not anxiety over the possibility of losing her entire life’s savings plus the money her father had so kindly left to her.

As Hannah stood in the front of the bakery, she reached into her backpack purse and pulled out her notebook. She gripped it with both hands. It was something she didn’t share with people, but in this instance, Ethan couldn’t create her dream unless he saw what she wanted.

“Are those your plans?” he asked.

“In a way.” She worried her bottom lip and wondered if she was making a mistake. What if he thought her drawings were silly or too over-the-top?

“May I see them?” He held out his hand.

It was then she noticed the red, uneven skin on the back of his hand. She knew what it was—a burn scar. Her father had a couple of them, though none were serious. Ethan’s scars, on the other hand, looked as though they’d been far more serious. What had happened to him? She wanted to ask and yet, she didn’t want to know.

He tugged on his long shirt sleeve. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt.”

It was then she realized she was staring. Heat rushed up her neck and settled in her cheeks as she glanced away. “I…I’m sorry.” She rushed to hand over the notebook. “Here you go.”

She felt bad for him. It looked like whatever he’d been through had been brutal. And as he opened the notebook, she noticed the other hand had similar scars too. She made a point not to stare anymore by starting to pace around the bakery. She’d already embarrassed him enough and that certainly hadn’t been her intention. Not at all.

After her father’s death, she’d tried to stay away from anything that had to do with fire, whether it was the department, the firefighters, or even first responder TV shows. She didn’t realize until that moment how much she’d been avoiding the subject. And now the reminder was right in front of her.

Ethan didn’t say anything as he took in all of her hand-drawn plans. He turned page after page. Time seemed to go on forever.

She wanted to ask him what he thought. Was any of it even possible now that she was on a shoestring budget? Instead she remained quiet, letting him digest the information.

He finally closed the notebook and smiled at her. “You are quite a talented artist.”

“I’m not that good.” She had never been good with receiving compliments.

“I beg to differ. I now have a good idea of what you want. Do you mind if I hang onto the notebook for a bit longer?”