Murphy's Law (Havenwood #2) - Riley Hart Page 0,38

it, but I worked hard to push it down, to bury it. I couldn’t do this. Not today.

“How have you been feeling?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject. It worked, and we spoke for about twenty minutes before getting off the phone. I showered and put on my favorite old jeans and a Henley, then lowered a hat onto my head.

My hands trembled slightly, which was stupid, but I knew it was about more than going out. It wasn’t as if I were a hermit. It was about where I was going and what it would mean.

After locking up, I climbed into the small Honda I’d purchased and headed for Chatham Street. Law had mentioned the name of the road his café was on. It would have been smarter to do some research first, look up local cafés, but it wasn’t like Havenwood had a lot of farm-to-table, breakfast-and-lunch diners on Chatham. I’d figure it out when I got there.

I knew it the second I saw the white building with black lettering and yellow-and-orange design. Sunrise Café. My hands started to shake. Law had named it Sunrise, and maybe it had nothing to do with me, but I wanted to believe it did. That it was because the first song I sang, the first night we met, was about a sunrise. Because we used to sometimes stay up all night, talking and fucking, before watching the sun wake up. Because he knew how much they meant to me, and maybe, somehow, that made them mean something to Law too.

It was so like him. He was good at those moments, at doing things that came from his heart, even when no one else knew they did.

I parked and stared at the sign across the street, feeling like I could burst. From want and hurt and disappointment and love. From all those things twisting me up inside and how the man in that café always managed to quiet my internal storm.

He was music to me. Freedom. And I wanted so bad to have a taste of it again. It was why I’d come to Havenwood, of course it was, and logically I’d known that all along.

I was so damn tired of being caged, like Brit had said, but I didn’t know how to get out of it, out of the one inside my head, that had reinforced bars and had done nothing but get stronger over the years.

But I knew that cage felt bigger, more spacious, when Law was there.

So I got out of the car and headed for the café, as if that changed a damn thing. As if it was some great accomplishment, when it was a normal, everyday activity.

I opened the door and…holy fuck, it was busy. It was white inside, with photos all over the walls, similar to Law’s house. There were sunsets and sunrises. Mountains and beaches.

It wasn’t a large place—a small counter with eight stools, and probably twenty tables, all full except two. It was about one in the afternoon, everyone likely there to get their lunch in before they closed in an hour.

“Just one?” an older woman with graying hair asked as she approached me.

“Yeah.” On reflex my eyes darted away, but she didn’t seem to notice, and she didn’t seem to recognize me.

“Is this your first time here?” She led me to a table.

“Yeah.” I took a seat, and thankfully the booth was toward the back. “I’ve heard great things, though.” It didn’t surprise me that she realized I was new in Havenwood. That was the thing about small towns.

“You won’t be disappointed. I love the biscuits and sausage gravy—breakfast is served all day. But if you’re looking for lunch, the burgers are great too. There’s a little something special in all of them, real creative. Not like your regular burgers. Do you want coffee? My name is Mary Beth, by the way.”

She smiled, and I returned it. Again, no spark of recognition. One of the things I’d always had going for me was, well, for lack of a better term, that I wasn’t anything special. I faded into the background.

“Yeah, a coffee would be great. And some water, please.”

“Coming right up!” And then I was left alone. My eyes darted around the café. I didn’t see Law anywhere. He was likely in the back. Everyone was eating, laughing, talking, going about their day. People said hi to others as they walked by, all clearly comfortable in this little haven Law