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Colby didn’t answer, too busy crawling out of Luke’s lap to investigate the stripes lining Luke’s comforter.

Jesus. Colby wasn’t even two years old yet. Luke wasn’t mentally prepared to deal with escape attempts already. He’d made that crib himself, and he’d expected it to last through the toddler years. At least Colby had come straight into Luke’s room instead of roaming the house all on his own.

Assuming that was what he’d done. Luke had no way of knowing otherwise.

Coffee. Coffee would help this situation immensely. It would help him shake off this surreal feeling the morning had started with. Luke couldn’t even entirely blame his son’s shadowed appearance. Luke had been having a dream, hadn’t he…?

He couldn’t remember it. Or, at least, not the specifics. Only the feel of it. Dark and cool and strange.

Luke got out from under the covers and grabbed Colby off the bed, ignoring his indignant squawk. “C’mon, bud. Help Dad make a cup of joe.”

That seemed to do the trick, and Colby babbled happy nonsense as they made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Luke switched on lights as they went, having learned his lesson ages ago about tripping over toys in the dark. He let Colby scoop the grounds into the filter—with the obligatory half scoop spilling onto the counter—and set the machine on, then plopped Colby down in front of the TV with an applesauce pouch while Luke hurried to get ready.

It wasn’t the prettiest picture that greeted Luke while he brushed his teeth. He’d developed dark circles under his eyes, and his scruff could definitely use some taming. Luke never seemed to grow the kind of lumberjack beard that other men could get away with when they stopped shaving. He only ever looked…unkempt, after a while. But Luke could already hear Colby getting restless, so he ignored the offensive sight and made do with splashing water on his face.

It wasn’t like there was anyone to impress, anyway. Pine Bluff was a small town to begin with, and a single father with an unsteady income and frequent stains on his shirt wasn’t going to draw many romantic potentials, no matter how nice it might have been not to do all this alone.

Luke grabbed a long-sleeved shirt and his usual worn jeans, tugging them both on quickly. He wasn’t an early morning person by nature, but he and Colby had a routine down these days. And when Colby woke up before six, that routine included a trip to the local bakery.

If Luke was going to be up before the sun, he might as well get a decent breakfast he hadn’t made himself while he was at it.

He jogged back down the stairs to find Colby digging into his blocks, his half-empty applesauce pouch tossed to the side. “What do you say, bud?” Luke asked. “Should we go see Seth and his donuts?”

Colby grinned up at him. He had his mother’s brown eyes and Luke’s dark hair, but a smile that seemed to be all his own. It always gave Luke the urge to pick him up and squeeze him as tight as he could, but he couldn’t do that ten thousand times a day without messing with Colby’s flow. “Do-nuh!”

“I’m scrambling you an egg first.”

It would probably go uneaten, but at least Luke could say he’d tried. It was the most he could do on any day—say he’d tried his best.

First he gathered Colby’s clothes and got him dressed, grateful that Colby didn’t seem to hate the process like some kids his age. Early mornings were one thing, but alligator wrestling a toddler every time Luke wanted to get a pair of pants on him was another.

When they were both as decent as could be expected, and two bites of eggs had been eaten and the rest pushed away with disdain, Luke grabbed Colby’s lunch and his day-care backpack, and the two of them headed out.

It was cold and dark still, but not actively raining, so about as good as could be expected for coastal Washington in winter. The fog might even burn off later and let some sun in, if they were lucky.

“You feeling lucky today, bud?” Luke asked as he buckled Colby into his car seat.

Colby smiled at him, cheeks already red from the cold. “Yeah! Wucky.”

Luke would take it. It was only after he’d started the car that he realized he’d forgotten to even pour himself his coffee.

Ah, well. Good thing they were headed somewhere that had its own.

Some might call it lucky, even.

Coastal Crumbs was warm and bright and smelled like cinnamon and sugar and fresh, hot coffee. Was it really any wonder the Wainwright men couldn’t resist coming in on their early mornings?

The place was still empty, which meant Luke’s niece, Violet, wasn’t in her usual spot, writing her gruesome fan fiction before high school started for the day.

But the bakery’s owner, Seth, was behind the counter, all cheery smiles and bouncing curls, his usual cloth headband in place, this one with little rain clouds printed on it. Next to him was his boyfriend, Riley, a local guy who’d barely been spotted in public before Seth had come to town and lured him into the open with his baked goods, or whatever it was that had happened between them.

Now Riley could be found in the bakery more days than not, and he was even participating in a book club Seth and Violet had conned Luke and some of the other locals into. Riley was still quieter than the average guy, and seemed to see any man who wasn’t Seth as a potential threat to his domestic bliss, but Luke didn’t mind him. Small towns were full of odd characters. Riley and his beautiful, reclusive mothers were the least of it.

Colby fussed in Luke’s arms the instant they were inside, insisting on being put down so he could toddle over to the pastry case. “Sef!”

“My little charmer!” Seth cooed, beaming down over the counter at him while Riley kept his eyes on Seth like no one else was in the room. “What will you be having today?”

“Do-nuh!”