Bound To Rage

Harper POV

The sign smelled like fresh paint.

I stood across the street with a coffee in one hand and stared at the storefront I'd spent the last month renovating.

**Sugar & Hearth Bakery.**

My bakery.

The words still felt unreal, for years I'd worked in other people's kitchens.

Other people's businesses.

Other people's dreams.

Now I had my own.

The realization should have made me excited. Instead, it made me feel slightly sick.

"You've got that look again."

I glanced sideways. Grandma stood beside me with her hands tucked into the pockets of her cardigan.

At seventy-three years old, Margaret Bennett was approximately five feet of pure stubbornness.

"What look?"

"The one where you're overthinking."

I laughed.

"I'm opening a business."

"You bake."

She shrugged.

"You've been baking since you were ten."

"That's different."

"Not really."

I rolled my eyes.

"Very supportive."

"You're welcome."

Despite my nerves, I smiled because she wasn't wrong. I could do this. I'd spent years dreaming about having my own bakery. Years imagining it.

Planning it.

Saving for it.

Then life had happened.

Heartbreak.

Change.

Unexpected opportunities.

A move to a town I'd never planned on staying in and somehow I'd ended up here. Standing outside my own bakery.

Maybe Grandma was right.

Maybe I was overthinking.

"Come on," she said.

"Before you talk yourself out of it."

I laughed.

Then followed her inside.

---

The first customer arrived ten minutes after opening. The second arrived five minutes later.

After that, the day became a blur.

Coffee.

Pastries.

Introductions.

Questions.

So many questions. People seemed genuinely excited about the bakery. A few admitted they'd been watching the renovation for weeks.

One older gentleman informed me he'd volunteered himself as chief taste tester.

Twice.

By lunchtime, half the cinnamon rolls were gone.

The coffee machine hadn't stopped and for the first time all day, I relaxed.

Maybe this would work.

Maybe I'd finally found somewhere I belonged.

The bell above the door chimed.

I glanced up.

A teenage girl stood in the doorway.

Blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail.

Green eyes.

Confident posture.

The kind of confidence that came naturally rather than being performed.

She looked around the bakery slowly.

Taking everything in.

Not shy.

Not nervous.

Just curious.

For some reason, I liked her immediately.

"Hi."

Green eyes landed on me.

"Hi."

I waited.

She continued looking around.

Finally I laughed.

"Good hi or bad hi?"

The corner of her mouth twitched.

"Undecided."

That made me grin.

"Fair."

She wandered over to the display case.

Studied everything carefully. Then pointed.

"The brownies."

I followed her finger.

"Good choice."

"I know."

I laughed. Definitely not shy.

"Already judging my bakery?"

"If you're opening a bakery, you should expect that."

I tilted my head.

"You make a compelling argument."

"I've been told that."

"By adults?"

She nodded.

"Mostly."

I liked her more with every answer. I held out my hand.

"I'm Harper."

She shook it.

"Lola."

"Nice to meet you, Lola."

"You too."

Then she looked around the bakery one more time.

"I like it."

The simple honesty of the statement warmed me more than all the compliments I'd received that morning because she meant it.

No politeness.

No obligation.

Just honesty.

I smiled.

"I'm glad."

---

Half an hour later, Lola was still there.

Not because I was entertaining her because she'd claimed a table by the front window and spread out schoolbooks.

Apparently deciding my bakery was suitable for homework.

I found myself smiling every time I looked over.

She seemed comfortable.

Like she'd simply decided she belonged there.

The bell above the door chimed again.

A woman stepped inside.

Honey-brown hair.

Green eyes.

Warm smile.

The kind of woman who immediately put people at ease.

The moment she entered, Lola looked up.

"Hi, Aunt Cleo."

Aunt. That explained the eyes.

"There you are."

Lola looked completely unconcerned.

"I told Grandma where I was."

"That doesn't count."

"It should."

"It doesn't."

I bit back a laugh.

The woman noticed.

"Sorry."

She walked over and held out her hand.

"I'm Cleo."

"Harper."

"Welcome to Creek Wood."

The sincerity in her voice surprised me because she genuinely meant it.

Before I could answer, the bakery door burst open.

Two little boys flew inside.

Dark hair.

Dark eyes.

Matching grins.

Matching energy.

Matching trouble.

"Cupcakes!"

"Cookies!"

Cleo immediately closed her eyes.

"No."

Both boys looked personally offended.

"But Mom—"

"No."

"Mom—"

"No."

I laughed.

The twins immediately turned toward me. Apparently deciding I looked easier to convince.

I wasn't.

Mostly.

A second later another teenager entered.

Dark hair.

Dark eyes.

About Lola's age.

He looked completely unsurprised by the chaos unfolding around him.

"Found them."

The twins pointed dramatically.

"Tommy!"

Tommy rolled his eyes.

"You disappeared again."

"We were running"

"You were hiding."

"We were running while hiding."

I laughed.

Tommy sighed.

"You'll get used to them."

"I'm beginning to realize that."

The twins looked proud of themselves, which probably wasn't a good sign.

---

The next hour passed quickly.

Customers came and went.

The twins attempted to negotiate for cupcakes six separate times.

Tommy eventually distracted them with cookies.

Cleo stayed for coffee and Lola remained exactly where she'd started.

Working on homework.

Watching people.

Occasionally helping me carry empty plates back to the counter.

By three o'clock, the bakery no longer felt new.

It felt comfortable.

Lived in.

Warm.

Like it belonged.

Like I belonged.

The realization settled quietly in my chest.

Maybe this really had been the right decision.

Maybe I'd finally found somewhere I could stay.

As the afternoon sun streamed through the front windows, Lola packed away her schoolbooks.

"You open tomorrow?"

I laughed.

"I am."

"Good."

The answer came so quickly it caught me off guard.

Tommy looked up from his cookie.

"Are there brownies tomorrow?"

"There can be."

"We'll be here."

Cleo shook her head.

"You two are impossible."

The twins nodded enthusiastically.

"We are."

That earned groans from everyone.

Including me.

Though I couldn't stop smiling.

As they gathered their things, Lola slung her backpack over one shoulder.

Then paused by the counter.

"I'll come back tomorrow."

For reasons I couldn't explain, the thought made me unexpectedly happy.

I smiled.

"I'll be here."

Something brightened in her expression.

A small smile.

Real and unguarded.

Then she nodded.

"See you tomorrow, Harper."

I watched them leave.

The bell jingled above the door.

The bakery suddenly felt quieter.

Not empty.

Just quieter.

I glanced toward the table by the window.

At the spot where Lola had spent most of the afternoon and found myself smiling.

For the first time since arriving in Creek Wood, I wasn't thinking about everything I'd left behind.

I was thinking about tomorrow and somehow, that felt like the beginning of something good.