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The parent, a woman I recognized as Mrs. Reynolds, smiled at me as I approached. “Good morning, Natalie. I just wanted to say how much Lily’s been looking forward to today. She hasn’t stopped talking about it.”
I returned her smile, feeling that familiar warmth in my chest. “I’m glad to hear it. We’ve got a fun day planned.”
Mrs. Reynolds nodded, a look of appreciation in her eyes. “You do such a wonderful job with these kids. We’re lucky to have you.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely touched. “That means a lot.”
After a quick goodbye, Mrs. Reynolds handed Lily’s bag to Betsy, who guided the little girl inside with the rest of the children. I watched them go, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. This was where I was meant to be.
Today was going to be a fun day—I was sure of it.
Two
Ethan
“Damn fine work on that car, city boy,” Joe said, leaning against the workbench with a mug of coffee in hand. “The paint’s completely dry. You can pull it outside and show off that beauty.”
I glanced up from the vintage Mustang I’d been working on all morning. The scent of fresh paint was still strong in the air, mixing with the familiar smells of motor oil and grease that filled Cedar Cove Auto Repair. I had to admit, Joe was right—the job had gone well, even better than I’d expected.
“Sure thing,” I replied, tossing the rag I’d been using to wipe my hands onto the workbench. “I’ll get it out there.”
Joe took a sip of his coffee, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Didn’t think a guy like you had it in him. You don’t exactly look like someone who’s used to sweating over an engine.”
He wasn’t wrong. It had been years since I’d done this kind of work—back when I was just a kid, trying to escape the expectations that came with the Sterling name. Tinkering withcars had been one of the few things that felt real back then, a way to forget about the responsibilities I couldn’t outrun.
Now, it was a different kind of escape, a challenge I never saw coming. When my sister, Sophia, dared me to ditch my billionaire lifestyle for a month and live like an ordinary guy, I’d thought it would be easy. But Cedar Cove was teaching me just how much I’d taken for granted.
“Maybe not recently,” I admitted, walking over to the driver’s side door, “but it’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget.”
Joe snorted, his weathered face cracking into a grin. “Well, you’ve done good here. This town might just rub off on you yet. Hell, you might even start to like it.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. Cedar Cove was growing on me in a way I hadn’t expected. The slow pace, the way everyone knew everyone else’s business, the simplicity of it all—it was the polar opposite of my life in Dallas. And yet, there was something comforting about it. Here, the world was small and manageable. There were no high-stakes meetings or financial empires to manage. Just the straightforward satisfaction of a job well done and a town that didn’t demand more than you could give.
“Speaking of the town,” Joe continued, setting his mug down, “you thought about entering the fishing competition this weekend? It’s part of the big festival we have every year. The whole damn town shows up.”
Fishing competition? That was definitely not my scene. “I don’t know much about fishing.”
Joe grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You and half the guys who enter. It’s more about the bragging rights and the beer than actually catching anything. Besides, it’s a good way to meet folks and get a feel for what Cedar Cove’s really about.”
I pretended to consider it, though the idea of spending a day trying to catch fish I didn’t know how to catch wasn’t exactly appealing. “I’ll think about it.”
Joe slapped me on the back, his way of saying I hadn’t had a choice. “You do that, Ethan. Who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.”
I nodded, opening the car door and sliding inside. The truth was, I was here to blend in, not stand out. But the more time I spent in Cedar Cove, the more I realized that this town had a way of pulling you in, making you a part of its rhythm whether you wanted it or not.
With a turn of the key, the Mustang’s engine roared to life, the sound filling the shop. I eased it into gear and carefully backed it out through the wide-open garage doors, the sunlight immediately hitting the fresh paint as I pulled into the lot.
As I shut off the engine and stepped out, I took a moment to admire the car gleaming under the Texas sun. It was a beauty, no doubt about that. The kind of car that turned heads, even in a small town like this. I was so focused on the car that I almost didn’t notice the group of kids walking by on the sidewalk, led by a couple of adults. Their laughter and chatter caught my attention, and I looked up just in time to see them staring at the Mustang with wide eyes.
One of the boys—a kid with a mop of unruly brown hair—suddenly broke free from the group and ran straight for the car. My heart leaped into my throat, wondering what he had in mind. Just as he was about to touch the car, one of the women called out for him to come back. He obediently spun around to return when the keychain on his backpack brushed the side of the freshly painted door of the Mustang, leaving a perfectly visible scratch in the cherry red finish.
“Well, shit,” I muttered under my breath, staring at the mark. “That’s just perfect.”
Joe, who had been watching the whole thing from the garage, let out a low whistle. “You’ve got yourself a real situation there. Buffing it out won’t be easy.”
I was still staring at the scratch, trying to decide whether to be more annoyed at the kid or at myself for leaving the car unguarded, when she stepped up beside me. The woman in charge—definitely the one in charge—had a no-nonsense expression on her face, but there was something about the way she moved that caught my attention. Maybe it was the determined set of her shoulders or the way her sundress—simple but perfectly fitted—hugged curves I hadn’t expected to find in this small town.
“I’m really sorry about that,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “Kids are... well, they’re quick, and sometimes they don’t think before they act.”
