I blinked, my vision coming into focus again, but Mrs. Kipton was gone, almost as if she’d never been there at all. I looked around as I crossed the street, no sign of her anywhere. God, I was losing it. Or maybe my mind was simply looking for excuses to leave Anchor already. But that wasn’t going to happen.

I rolled my shoulders back as I reached the door to The Catch, pulling out my keys and unbolting the lock. I shut the door behind me, flipping the lock back into place. The lights were on, and music was playing low in the background. My gaze caught on Bell behind the bar. Her hair was piled high on her head as she stretched up on her tiptoes to count bottles of liquor on a shelf. She wore a t-shirt that hugged her curves in a way that meant torture for every guy that walked through the doors of this place today. The Catch was printed in distressed red lettering across her chest. I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze away. I didn’t remember that anywhere in the uniform.

I cleared my throat, and Bell startled, a hand flying to that chest my eyes hadn’t been able to look away from. “Geez, Ford. Give a girl a heart attack, why don’t you?”

I held up the bag. “I come bearing gifts.”

Bell’s eyes lit up in a way that made the green seem to sparkle as she took in the bag. “Jules?” I nodded. “Snickerdoodle?”

“Yup. But one’s for me.”

“I’ll get the coffee.” She paused, her smile faltering slightly. “How do you take yours?”

It was one of those moments where we both realized that the people we were now were strangers to each other. We hadn’t drunk coffee when we were in each other’s lives. God, we’d been babies. Babies who’d had to grow up way too damn fast. “Black. I take mine black. How do you take yours?” I couldn’t resist asking. There was so much about this Bell I didn’t know, and I wanted to change that.

Her lips tipped up. “With enough sugar and cream, it might as well be a milkshake.”

I chuckled. “Always did like those sweets.”

“Some things never change.” She headed back to the kitchen.

I grabbed napkins from behind the bar and pulled the muffins out of the sack as she reemerged. “You working on inventory?”

“Yes.” She groaned as she hopped up on a stool and set down our mugs. “It’s the bane of my existence.”

“Well, good thing I’m here. It goes a heck of a lot smoother with help.”

Bell bit into her muffin and moaned. I averted my eyes. “These are too good. I have a mental deal with myself. I’m only allowed to go into The Mad Baker twice a week. I always fail.”