After a fruitless day off work spent searching the rest of town for any other houses that resembled the one in the photo, Angel gave up. She’d revisited the house she’d seen on Elm Street and it was the closest she’d found to the one in the photo. But, she still didn’t know who owned it. Being new to town, she was pretty clueless about how things like that worked. Now back at the café the next day, she couldn’t get it out of her mind, which wasn’t helping her limited customer service skills.

“Angel,” Maggie said sharply, waving her hand in front of Angel’s face. “Can you please warm up a chocolate muffin for this customer?”

“What?” Angel said without thinking.

Maggie arched her eyebrows. “You must have been pretty far away. Mr. Duggins would like a warm chocolate muffin and a large cup of coffee to go.”

Angel blushed. “Sorry, Maggie.” She smiled apologetically at the customer. “I’ll have it up for you in a minute.” She grabbed a dark muffin out of the case with the tongs and stuck it in the warmer while pouring him a cup of coffee. When the timer dinged she pulled the muffin out, expecting to see warm chocolate chips melting into a cocoa-filled muffin. However, when she opened the oven, the distinct scent of heated bran assaulted her nose.

Well, that’s what you get when you aren’t paying attention. She glanced at the customer and put it onto a plate, sliding it behind a tall coffee carafe on the back counter. The customer had his nose in a newspaper, so she quickly snuck over to the glass bakery case and removed the correct type of muffin. When it was warmed, she called out, “chocolate muffin and coffee to go” and handed it to the customer, who was none the wiser.

Her next customer, an elderly woman, walked up to the counter, smiling happily at Angel as she accepted her coffee and baked treat. With a start, Angel realized that this could be her grandmother. Chances were that it wasn’t, but it could be. Candle Beach was a small town and she may have already met members of her family and not even have known it. A chill shot through her. With each order, she examined the customer, wondering if it could be someone she was related to.

She and Maggie worked together to get through the line until Maggie said, “I’ve got to go pick up my son from school. They’ve got another half-day today.” She eyed the growing line. “Are you going to be okay up here by yourself? Anna was having some car trouble, but she should be in soon to relieve you.”

“Of course I’ll be fine.” Angel gave her a reassuring smile, even though the idea of being left alone made her stomach flip-flop. Now she really needed to focus on what she was doing and put any thoughts of her family out of her mind for the meantime. “Go. Don’t worry about me.”

Maggie hesitated as if she was about to say something, but instead removed her apron and exited the lobby to the kitchen.

A new group of customers came in and Angel was busy for a while helping them. It got to the point where she barely saw who she was helping, but instead became a pouring-and-warming machine taking people’s money.

“Busy today, isn’t it?” a man’s voice asked.

“Yes, it is. What can I get you?” Angel held her fingers above the cash register keys, ready to calculate his order.

“Oh, maybe one of those purple roosters I saw out on the sidewalk.”

Her head shot up. Had she heard him correctly? “Excuse me?”

A grin spread across his freckled face. “I wanted to see if you were a robot. You’ve been breezing through every order, but I don’t think you’ve seen anyone.”

She laughed. “You’re right.” The line had dwindled and she took the opportunity to take a deep breath. “I’m not usually up front, so I’m not as good at multitasking as Maggie and the others are.”

“Ah,” he said. “I thought I didn’t recognize you. I know most of the people in town.”

“I just moved to Candle Beach last month,” she explained. She’d never seen him before either, although that wasn’t much of a surprise considering how little she got out of the house. His friendly, Dennis the Menace face and carrot-red hair made her feel instantly at ease.

He nodded and glanced at her name tag. “Well, nice to meet you, Angel. I hope you’re enjoying life in our little town.”

“I am.” She grinned. “Now, what can I get you?”

He pointed at the top shelf of the domed bakery case. “I’ve been eyeing that last cherry Danish. I was really worried the man in front of me was going to take it when he ordered a dozen pastries. They’re my favorite and I’m not usually in here early enough to get one. This is my lucky day.” He grinned from ear to ear.

“Yes, fortunately for you, he was more of a chocolate croissant fan.” She tapped his order into the cash register and told him his total.

He rummaged in his wallet and pulled out a few crumpled dollar bills, holding them out to her. When she reached for the money, their hands touched briefly—just long enough for threads of attraction to shoot through his fingertips to hers. Their eyes met and he smiled at her.

She pulled her fingers away as if burned by his touch, and made a show of calmly putting the bills in the register before pushing his change across the counter to him. What was going on? She didn’t spend much time at the cash register, but she definitely hadn’t felt that sensation with any other customer before.

Hiding her face in the pastry case, she picked up the Danish and placed it carefully in a white paper bag.

“Here you go,” she said, holding it out to him, determined not to let her emotions get the best of her.

His hand grazed hers and she let go of the bag in surprise. They both watched as it dropped from her hands, almost as if watching a movie in slow motion.

“Oh no!” Her eyes widened and she leaned over the counter. “I’m sorry.”

The man fumbled trying to grab it, causing the white bag to fall to the floor, upended. She stared in horror as the pastry slid out of the bag onto the tile floor of the café lobby.

The Danish broke in half upon impact and the fruit center oozed onto the floor. He stared sadly at his mangled breakfast.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Angel whispered, her eyes locked on it as well.

“That was the last one,” he said, glancing at the case, as if hoping another would have magically appeared.

Her face flushed with heat and her gaze darted to the pastry case. It had indeed been the last cherry Danish. And he’d been so excited to get it. Acid churned in her stomach. He seemed nice, but something like this could make anyone grouchy and she’d assured Maggie that everything would go smoothly while she was gone.

“Is there something else I can get you? I know you wanted the Danish, but the butter tarts I made this morning are excellent too.” She picked up the tongs and waited. Please, please let him not be upset.

He brought his attention to her face and swept his hand in front of the glass display case. “You made all of these? Maggie’s always had great baked goods at the café, but I’d noticed they were even better than usual lately. That was you?”

He wasn’t mad. She let out the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding and nodded. “I follow Maggie’s recipes though. Well, for the most part. I’m glad you like them.” She motioned to the pastries. “Is there something I can get you instead of the Danish? I feel really bad about ruining your breakfast.”

He waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll love anything you made.” He checked the selection. “You know, I think I will go with the butter tart. It looks delicious.”

From behind him, a woman cleared her throat.“Miss, I’d like to order.” She jangled her keys and eyed the clock behind the counter.

Flustered, Angel said, “I’ll be right with you, ma’am.” She placed a butter tart in a white paper bag, just as she’d done before with the cherry Danish, but this time, she folded over the edge to seal the bag—just in case. She handed it to the man.

“Thank you,” he said. “Maybe there will be more Danishes tomorrow?” He gave her a sad, puppy-dog look that endeared him to her immediately.

She laughed. “There will be, even if I have to come in extra early to make them.”

He gave her a thumbs-up. “I’ll be here.” He turned to walk away.

“Hey,” she called after him. “Give me your name and I’ll save one for you tomorrow.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but his words were drowned out by the loud order from the woman who’d been waiting behind him. Seeming not to notice she hadn’t heard, he wove his way through the crowd and left.

She shrugged. She’d leave a cherry Danish out for him and hope he got it. There was something about the mystery man that made her want to know more about him. Maybe it was the cheerful way he joked with her or his cute, friendly face. Or maybe it was that surprising sensation that had warmed her fingertips when their hands met.

“Miss,” the woman at the head of the line said insistently. “My coffee?”

She forced herself to pay attention. “Sorry, ma’am.”

The woman harrumphed and Angel turned to get her order. Hopefully Maggie would be back soon and she could retreat to her haven of baking back in the kitchen. She didn’t think she was cut out for dealing with customers on a long-term basis, as her clumsiness that day had made clear. Finally, after a long stream of customers, the lobby was quiet. She took advantage of the time to tidy up behind the counter before the next influx of hungry people appeared.

“How’d everything go?” Maggie said, coming up behind her. “Did Anna come in yet?”

Angel stopped wiping down the exterior of the bakery case and shook her head. “Not yet.” She smiled at her boss. “Things went well. The mad rush just ended and I thought I’d shine this up. Lots of little kids pressing their noses against it.”

“Thanks. I appreciate how hard you work here.” Maggie regarded her. “Do you think you’d want to meet my friends and me for drinks tonight at Off the Vine?”

Angel dabbed at a nonexistent smudge on the glass. “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to do.”

Maggie frowned at her and put her hands on her hips. “Hey, don’t fib to me. I’m a mom, remember? I can tell when someone is avoiding doing something.”

Angel squirmed. Maggie and her friends were nice, but they seemed tight-knit and she didn’t want to force her way into the circle of friends.

As if reading her mind, Maggie said, “Don’t worry. They loved you last time. We’re always happy to add new people to our group.” She smiled. “Pretty soon we’ll have a group that resembles the Ladies of Candle Beach—only forty years younger.”

Angel put the rag in a bucket behind the counter and gave her a small smile. “I guess I can make it.” Maggie seemed sincere and it would do her good to get out of the house and away from the memories of her mother that kept replaying through her mind when she was alone.

“Good,” Maggie said. “It’s settled.” She examined the baked goods. “You sold a lot while I was gone. Your baking has been popular. We may need to up our daily quantities in the future. For now, can you get started on the pies for dinner?”

“Sure.” Angel pushed open the swinging door and disappeared into the kitchen. Baking in her corner of the kitchen was a solitary task, giving her a lot of time to think. She had enjoyed hanging out with Maggie and her friends last time at the local wine bar and she’d been working hard. She deserved a break. And it wasn’t like her social calendar was full. Still, Maggie’s easy friendship took some getting used to.

In the past, she’d always been busy with school and then work, not allowing herself much time for fun. That was something she intended to change here in Candle Beach. A fresh start was exactly what she needed. Plus, she realized she’d forgotten to ask Maggie about where to go to research the house on Elm Street, so she’d have a chance to do so that evening.