“I’ll have a glass of the wine.” Caroline set the pie dish on the bar’s polished wood surface. Then she reached into the pocket of her black cargo shorts and withdrew two forks. “Do you mind eating out of the dish? I didn’t want to search for plates.”
“Or wash them later?” Lily said with a smile as she uncorked the wine and poured two glasses. She set them by the pie and headed for the service entrance to the bar. Lifting the piece of wood that kept the customers on their side of the space, she slipped out and headed for the stool beside Caroline.
Her coworker nodded, her long dark hair falling over her shoulders.
“You know,” Lily said, adjusting her stool so that she could still see the locked front entrance, “I’ve only been here a week, but that’s the second pie Josh Summers has dropped off for you.”
“We’re friends,” Caroline said in a tone that suggested she still didn’t quite believe it herself. “And he likes to bake.”
“Friends with benefits? I grew up here, surrounded by loggers. I don’t know many who spend their spare time testing new pie recipes,” Lily teased, sinking into the moment. When was the last time she’d sat down with someone and gossiped over a glass of wine? Ever since the attack, her friends and coworkers approached every conversation as if they needed to make it crystal clear they had all the sympathy in the world for her.
But she didn’t want their pity. And she flat out hated it when they treated her like a child who simply didn’t understand when she dared to bring up finding her assailant before he attacked her again.
“Just pie,” Caroline said. “I’m not ready for more. When and if I want to date, to have a relationship again, to fall in love, I doubt I’ll still be here.”
“Planning to move back home?” Lily asked, raising her glass to her lips.
“Or just move on. I can’t stay here forever.”
“Josh might follow you. I don’t know him well, seeing as he went to school in Independence Falls. But we have some mutual friends. I’ve never seen him smitten or in a long-term relationship. It’s been a while since he started baking for you, hasn’t it?”
Caroline nodded. “I first ran into Josh over a year ago. He’ll probably come to his senses soon and move on. He’ll start baking for someone else. So I should enjoy mine while I can.”
Caroline reached into the dish and withdrew a forkful of berries covered in crust. But before she raised the utensil to her lips, she glanced at the door.
Lily understood the instinct to search for threats, to anticipate, and to wait for the attack. It had only been five weeks, but she couldn’t remember what it felt like to walk through the day without fear hovering close behind.
“Something happened to you,” Lily said, no longer teasing.
“Yes.” Then Caroline ate the piece of pie, chewing slowly before returning her fork to the dish. “I think that’s why Noah and Josie asked you to cover for April while she’s on vacation. They thought I might be able to help you. I know what it’s like to feel hunted. To be convinced someone is after you.” Caroline glanced up and met her gaze. “And to be wrong.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m not saying you are,” Caroline cut in. “Maybe the attack was intentional. Maybe the police are wrong.”
“They are.” Lily picked up her glass and swirled the red liquid.
“It doesn’t change the fact that you look at the door, waiting for someone to burst in—”
The unmistakable sound of a key in the lock silenced the conversation. Lily froze, her eyes focused on the door. It had to be Noah, didn’t it? He was coming to check on the bar. Or maybe it was Josie. But why would they leave the baby in the middle of the night?
Her grip tightened on her wine glass, preparing to hurl it across the room at the man who might have stolen a key, waiting for his chance to find her and hurt her . . .
The door swung open and a large figure filled the doorway. The light from the parking lot made it difficult to identify his features. But she knew him. She’d know him anywhere.
“Now?” she cried as fury rose up partly driven by the pinot noir. But after all this time, how could Dominic Fairmore walk in holding a freaking key in the middle of the night?
Beside her, the dishwasher moved as if Lily’s one-word cry had been a directive. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Caroline reach for the pie dish. And then it was hurling through the empty bar. The pie collided with the target, covering Lily’s ex with a mixture of berries, sugar, and homemade crust. The tin dish dropped to the floor.