My mouth opened and closed, searching for an excuse, but everything I landed on sounded like the ultimate cop-out. “Fine.” I headed for the back stairs, stomping like a two-year-old the whole way.

Ford pulled his SUV to a stop in one of the parking spots on the outskirts of town. “The General Store? For lunch?”

I smirked. “Some things have changed since you’ve been away, and this is one of them.”

He eyed me from the driver’s seat. “I’m trusting you with the most important thing of all.”

“What’s that?”

“My stomach.”

I let out a choked laugh. He’d always been highly motivated by food. “I promise I won’t steer you wrong, but you’re going to have to roll with me.”

He switched off the engine and hopped out of the SUV. “Fine.” The man sounded like I was dragging him to his death, not a potential lunch spot.

I smiled down at the sidewalk, trying to hide my amusement. Just wait until he saw the menu. Ford held the worn screen door open for me. We’d been here countless times before. Riding our bikes from my house in the summer for a popsicle. Stopping on the way home from school for some candy.

Most of the store hadn’t changed a bit, but Old Man Walters had built on an addition at the back of the shop that housed a small kitchen and a counter with eight stools. On the back wall was a chalkboard menu written in an artsy script that was as familiar as my own handwriting. “Caelyn.”

She whirled around at the sound of my voice, her hair piled in a haphazard bun, the bracelets on her arms jangling. “Bell. What are you doing here?” Her eyes widened at the man behind me. “Ford. Hi.” Her last sentence came out as a squeak.

I bit back my laugh. “We’re going on a hike and could use a little sustenance.”

Caelyn beamed at the two of us. Shit. She was going to get her hopes up. I could see it in her eyes, she was already writing some grand romantic end for Ford and me, and it would crush her when things didn’t go that way. “That, I can do for you.”

I turned back to Ford, who was studying the menu with a look of horror. “Sprout sandwich?”

I couldn’t hold in my laugh this time. “What? Living in LA for over a decade, and you’re still not into rabbit food?”

“That’s not exactly my cuisine of choice.” He glanced at Caelyn. “No offense.”

She held up a hand. “None taken. We’ve got more carnivorous options, too. Tell you what, you tell me what you don’t like, and I’ll whip you up something special. I already know Bell’s favorites.”

“No sprouts. No mushrooms.”

“Fair enough. Bells, you want the vegan BLT?”