Chapter Eight
TESSA
Instead of getting back on the highway, Tre drives down the snow-filled streets of the small downtown area of whatever town we’re in. It’s typical of what I’d expect to find in a small town—specialty shops, a bakery, hardware store, butcher, some restaurants and bars. But tucked away on a side street sits a diner adorned with twinkling white lights and boughs of garland wrapped around the windows.
Tre parallel parks along the curb with zero effort. I try to tell myself that it’s not sexy at all, but I’m impressed because it would probably have taken me five tries.
Inside the diner, the scent of coffee brewing mingles with the sweetness of cinnamon rolls that are proudly displayed beside a sign that says, “Best Cinnamon Rolls in five counties.”
Holiday music floats
