As she headed to close out the register, she heard a faint chuckle. So faint she thought she’d imagined it. But then a chair scraped on the wood-planked floor as someone rose from the corner table, hidden from view by the bread rack beside the counter.

Oh no…

A man stepped into view, his back to her, but she could see he was tall and well built, jeans wrapping around muscular legs.

How long had he been there? How much had he heard? Surely everything. The early evening sun hit his wavy dark hair, making it shimmer with gold highlights until his big shoulders blocked it out.

And then her breath caught. Because as he turned and moved toward her, she recognized his stride, his athletic grace, and his big, warm eyes, the color of a fine espresso. The nose that would seem a little too big on another man but somehow fit his too-handsome face perfectly. And the defiant jaw that the men in his family couldn’t seem to avoid inheriting, right along with their stubborn natures.

Leo Castorini.

The son of the family who ran the Italian restaurant next door. For a flash, she was back in high school, watching him walk down the hall, his easygoing demeanor and good looks drawing her—and every girl—like a magnet.

And he wore that same smirk, like he was laughing at her. Still.

She’d had a terrible crush on him. He’d actually asked her out, even though they’d been in neck-and-neck competition for the candle factory scholarship. But stuff had happened, and she’d ended up learning that he’d never really liked her at all. He’d just been fake-pretending to be friendly with the competition, she guessed. And he’d laughed at her. Which had hurt more than losing the scholarship to him.

She could see herself as she was in school—the braces, the flyaway hair, the unruly brows, the ten pounds she wished she could shed. But all that had changed…contacts, a good haircut, the miracle of waxing, and the right clothing to complement her shape, thanks to input from her two sisters.

Leo sauntered up to the counter, which for some reason made her a lot more anxious than when Sam had done it.

“Hi, Tessa. Busy evening?” The deep tone of his voice vibrated clear through her in a way that put her even more on edge. Also, the years had been too kind to him. Little crinkles had formed around his eyes, making it seem like he laughed often, and he had a maturity in his physique that made him even more appealing.

But the place was empty besides the two of them. “You’re hilarious,” she said, deadpan.

Which wasn’t funny. But for some reason, he full-out grinned.

That feeling in her gut was not butterflies. She was just getting queasy from him pointing out their obvious lack of customers.