He’d been singing along to a Garth Brooks song when he pulled into the drive and spotted Quinn bleeding out in the driveway. That discovery had been just the first of many.

After all the funerals he’d traded in his truck, and he’d never listened to Garth Brooks since.

Rory pushed away what was left of his bagel sandwich. He wouldn’t be able to eat another bite now. The memories were always the strongest when he first returned. He had to be patient. He had to just get through the next twenty-four hours.

The door opened on a gust of wind. Two old men entered, talking loudly about the Stroll taking place that night. They hadn’t even finished closing the door when it opened again, with another bracing blast of frigid air.

Sadie entered the café, long copper hair swirling, blowing across her face. Laughing, she plucked curls from her eyes and peeled back another tendril from her lips.

Rory watched her laugh her way toward the counter, eyes bright, cheeks glowing pink. She greeted the boy at the counter with the easy familiarity that came from living in a small town. If you didn’t already know everyone, you soon would.

For the first time in forever, Rory felt envious of those who lived here and were happy here. Sadie seemed happy here. He was glad. Marietta was a good place to call home.

Sadie said goodbye to the boy at the counter and turned from the counter, with a big pink cardboard box, on her way out. She was halfway to the door when she spotted Rory.

Emotions flickered across her lovely, expressive face, one after the other. Surprise. Pleasure. And then anger.

“We seem destined to keep bumping into each other,” he said easily.

She wasn’t half as comfortable. “It’s a small town,” she answered somewhat stiffly, pushing back yet another flyaway tendril from her cheek. It was stubborn and clung to the corner of her lips, and she peeled it away with a soft sigh of annoyance.

He, on the other hand, admired the curl. Lucky little devil to curl across her lips.

“You’re up early,” he said.

“I’m heading in to work. Had to pick up muffins for the office. I open on Saturdays.”

“Where’s the office?”

“Thankfully, just across the street as I’m running late.” She shifted the box from one hand to the other. “Everything okay at the rental house?”

“Great.”

“That little heater works well, doesn’t it?”

He leaned back in his chair, studying her. She hadn’t smiled since she spotted him at his table. “Why do I make you nervous?”

“You don’t.” Her mouth opened, closed. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’ve got time.”

“I’m already late, and Natalie is a stickler for punctuality.”

“Then how about lunch?”

“I don’t take lunch on Saturdays, but even if I did, what is the point?” Her gaze hardened, her expression suddenly fierce. “You’re not going to stick around, are you?”

“Would it make a difference if I did?”

For a split second, she looked young and full of hope. And yearning.

The words want, wish, crave, whispered through his head.

“Was there a point in you coming to see me ride?” he asked quietly.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does to me.”

“I have to go.” And then with a small nod in his direction, she was off, out the door and then quickly crossing the street.

Rory sat forward as the door closed behind Sadie.

If she was anyone else, he’d be done. He didn’t chase women.