Chapter 3

This time it was River, looking like he'd just finished his shift at the bar. His dark hair was slightly messed up, and he had that relaxed, easy smile that had been breaking hearts since high school.

"Hey, beautiful." He walked over and dropped a casual kiss on my cheek. "Ready to talk about those music nights?"

I felt Logan's stare intensify. "River, this is Logan Winters, the new vet. Logan, this is River Donovan. He owns The Hideaway."

River extended his hand, but there was something protective in his posture. Like he could sense the tension and was ready to step in if needed.

"Nice to meet you," River said, though his tone suggested it wasn't particularly nice at all.

Logan shook his hand briefly. "Likewise."

The two men sized each other up in that way guys did when they were trying to figure out if they needed to dislike each other. River was casual, friendly, built like someone who'd played sports in high school and still hit the gym regularly. Logan was more reserved, sharper around the edges, like he kept himself under tight control.

"So you're new in town," River said. It wasn't really a question.

"Recently relocated," Logan replied. "From Boston."

"Big change. What brought you to Willowvale?"

Logan's jaw tightened slightly. "Personal reasons."

River nodded like that explained everything, but I could see the wheels turning. He'd always been good at reading people, and right now he was reading Logan as a potential threat.

"Harper and I were just discussing health department requirements," Logan said, his voice carefully neutral.

"Were you now." River's arm brushed against mine as he shifted closer. "That sounds important."

The subtext was thick enough to cut with a knife. River was marking territory, Logan was judging everything he saw, and I was stuck in the middle feeling like an idiot.

"We should probably head out," River said to me. "Don't want to keep Marcus waiting."

Marcus was his bartender, and Thursday nights were always busy at The Hideaway. River had offered to let me use his sound system to test out some acoustic sets before committing to equipment for the coffee shop.

"Right." I grabbed my jacket from behind the counter. "Mr. Winters, I'll look into those requirements and get back to you."

Logan nodded curtly. "I'll be in touch."

River held the door open for me, and we stepped out into the cool evening air. The sun was setting behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange that reminded me why I'd missed this place.

"Friend of yours?" River asked as we walked toward his truck.

"Never met him before today."

"He seemed real interested in you."

I snorted. "Yeah, interested in finding reasons to shut down my coffee shop."

River stopped walking. "Seriously?"

"I don't know. Maybe. He definitely doesn't like me."

"His loss."

We'd reached River's truck when I noticed the sleek sedan parked a few spaces down. Its hood was up, and Logan was standing next to it with his phone pressed to his ear. Even from here, I could tell the conversation wasn't going well.

"Looks like city boy's having car trouble," River said.

Logan hung up and ran a hand through his hair. In the fading light, he looked less intimidating and more frustrated. Maybe even a little lost.

"We should go," River said, opening his truck door. "Not our problem."

But I found myself hesitating. Yeah, Logan had been a complete ass. And yeah, he'd clearly already decided I was some kind of small-town troublemaker. But leaving someone stranded wasn't who I wanted to be.

"Harper." River's voice was gentle but firm. "Come on."

Logan looked up from his phone and saw us watching. For a second, our eyes met again, and I saw something flicker across his face. Pride, maybe. Or embarrassment.

Then he looked away and went back to his phone.

I stood there, keys in my hand, torn between doing the right thing and protecting myself from someone who'd already made up his mind about me.

"I'm going to help him."

River gave me a look that said I'd lost my mind. "Harper, come on. The guy was a complete dick to you."

"I know." I handed him my keys. "But I can't just leave him there."

"Yes, you can. It's called self-preservation."

Logan was still standing by his car, phone pressed to his ear. From his body language, whatever conversation he was having wasn't going well.

"Five minutes," I said. "If he's still an ass, we'll leave."

River sighed. "You're too nice for your own good."

We walked over to Logan's car just as he was hanging up. Up close, I could see the frustration written all over his face. His perfect composure from earlier was starting to crack.

"Car trouble?" I asked, stating the obvious.

Logan looked up, and I caught a flash of something that might have been embarrassment before his professional mask slipped back into place.

"Dead battery," he said. "The tow truck won't be here for at least an hour."

"That sucks." I peered under the hood. The engine looked expensive and complicated, nothing like the beat-up Ford Dad used to tinker with in our garage. "Do you have jumper cables?"

"In the trunk."

River was giving me pointed looks, but I ignored him. "River's got a truck. We could give you a jump."

Logan hesitated. Like accepting help from me was physically painful.

"It's fine," he said finally. "I'll wait for the tow truck."

"Don't be stupid," River said. "It'll take five minutes."

Something in Logan's expression shifted. Maybe he was weighing his pride against standing in a dark parking lot for an hour.

"If you're sure it's not too much trouble."

River was already moving toward his truck. "No trouble at all."

Twenty minutes later, Logan's car was still dead as a doornail.

"Try it again," I called out, my hands covered in grease from fiddling with the battery terminals.

The engine turned over but didn't catch. Again.

"It's not the battery," I said, wiping my hands on an old rag River kept in his truck. "Sounds like your alternator."

Logan got out of the car and stared at me. "How do you know that?"

"My dad taught me basic car stuff when I was a kid." The memory hit harder than I expected. Dad, patient and encouraging, showing me how to check oil and change a tire. "He said every woman should know how to take care of herself."

Logan's expression was unreadable. "That's... practical."

"Yeah, well. Dad was a practical guy."

River's phone buzzed, and he glanced at it with obvious relief. "Marcus needs me at the bar. Emergency with the beer delivery."

I could tell he was lying, but I didn't call him on it. He'd been looking for an excuse to leave since we started helping Logan.

"Go," I said. "I can catch a ride back with Knox later."

River gave me one last warning look. "Text me when you get home."

"I will."

He climbed into his truck and drove off, leaving me alone with Logan in the gathering darkness.