7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Cole

I made my way to the shop again early the next day. I had work I could do, yes, but I was more eager to see West than anything else. I hauled my laptop with me and arrived shortly after West opened the shop for the day. When I opened the door, the bell jingling to announce my arrival, West looked up sharply from what he’d been doing—stocking the pastry case—and his gaze met mine. Immediately his cheeks flooded pink, and a small smile formed on his face. I nodded by way of greeting and took the table that had become my usual spot.

I spent the day trying hard to focus on my work and not pay attention to the sexy shopkeeper who kept glancing my way, but I wasn’t very successful. All I could think about was kissing him again—the way his body had pressed against mine, warm and firm and solid, the way his lips had felt against mine, soft but insistent. I wanted to do it again. I wanted more, too. Snow fell outside, heavy flurries that obstructed the sun a little, giving the coffee shop a disconnected, insulated feel. Toward the end of the afternoon, the crowd thinned out until eventually West and I were alone.

He made his way to my table and sat down. “So…”

I raised my eyebrows. “So?”

“I just wanted to apologize again for the whole, you know, family night thing.”

With a shrug, I gave him a sincere smile. “It was nice. Your nieces and nephews are great. I really like how your family just… welcomed me in.”

“Yeah, they have a tendency to do that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They adopt people. Always have. Every time one of us had a friend in college who needed a place to go, they came to our house. Weekends, holidays, breaks, it didn’t matter. My parents always welcomed people with open arms. It was chaos, but they loved it.”

“I can tell. We were never quite like that in my family. My mom is great, but I can’t imagine her with a house full of chaos.”

He laughed a little. “It’s not for everyone.” A moment passed and he glanced at the clock. “Oh, wow. It’s closing time already.”

“Should I—?” I gestured to my laptop and tilted my head toward the door.

“No, not at all. I… like your company. Stick around as long as you’d like.” His cheeks turned pink as he spoke. “In fact… do you want to come upstairs and have dinner with me after I finish cleaning up down here?”

“I’d love that.” I turned my focus to gathering my belongings and packing up, so I’d be ready to go when the time came.

West stood and went to the door to turn the “open” sign over. As he did, he wiped the glass to peer out into the street. “Wow, that snow really came down.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked up. “What do you mean?”

“There’s at least a foot of it out there and it’s still coming down hard.”

“Really?” I got up and joined him at the door. “Wow, you weren’t kidding.” The conditions were practically white-out and just being near the chill radiating off the glass made me shiver.

“It’s only going to get worse as the night goes on.”

I sighed reluctantly. “I should probably head home then.”

West looked at me, his eyebrows drawn tight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s only a few blocks.”

He stepped back. “Be serious. You’re not wearing winter gear and you can barely see anything out there. You’ll freeze to death.”

“I’ll be fine,” I repeated, reaching for the door handle. I pulled open the shop door and a wind gust blew hard, wrenching the door out of my hand. It crashed back, rattling, and a huge flurry of snow rushed into the shop. I squinted and looked into the street, a sinking feeling coming over me. West was right. There was no way I was getting home safely in this weather. I wrestled the door closed and looked back at West. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess it’s a sleepover then.”

His cheeks turned pink and he looked at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Sounds like a plan. Should you—I mean, will your family be expecting you?”

“Good point.” I fished my phone out of my pocket and sent a text to my mom, letting her know I wouldn’t be home but that I was safe. A moment later, she responded.

Mom: I hope being safe means you’re using condoms.

She followed it up with a winking emoji. I rolled my eyes and tucked my phone away. I’d told her briefly about our date the previous night, and she’d been thrilled, so I wasn’t terribly surprised by her reaction, but it was still embarrassing.

West cleared his throat to get my attention. “Everything okay?”

“Yep. All squared away. Now… can I help you finish closing up for the night?”

He grinned and nodded. “That would be great, actually. Once we’re all cleaned up down here, we can go upstairs and I’ll make us something for dinner.”

The idea of seeing West’s apartment made my stomach flutter, sending warmth spreading through me. “Lead the way.” I followed him to the back of the shop, where he picked up a broom and a dustpan.

“Do you mind sweeping? I’ll close out the register and put things away.”

“No problem.” As I swept, West made his way to stand behind the counter and do whatever it was he needed to take care of to make sure the register was taken care of.

“Hey,” he called out as I swept. “I can teach you to make cookies after dinner. Make good on my promise.”

I grinned brightly. “That would be great.”

A little while later, everything was tidied up and I was following West upstairs to his little apartment above the shop. The door opened into a bright living room, decorated in clean, light colors, a galley kitchen to the left.

“This place is great,” I said.

He laughed a little, self-consciously. “Thanks.” A moment passed. “Why don’t you come in and I’ll get dinner ready for us. What do you like?”

“I’m not picky.”

“I made a mean beef stew last night. I can heat us up some of that, if you’d like.”

“That sounds amazing. I didn’t realize you cook, too. You do it all, don’t you?”

His shy smile charmed me even further. “There’s plenty I can’t do. I’ve just been trained well by my folks. My dad loved to cook so when I was growing up, he made it a point to teach all of his kids, too.”

“And there’s the baking.”

“Pastry school. Anyone can do it.”

I laughed. “Hardly. I’m notorious for burning everything I try to bake. That’s why I’m relying on you to help me learn to make cookies.”

He ducked his head shyly. “I’m looking forward to it.”

An hour later, West had heated up two big helpings of stew and baked fresh dinner rolls, and we made ourselves comfortable at his little dining room table to eat. I took my first bite of stew and flavor burst onto my tongue, rich and hearty.

I groaned softly. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, that blush returning to his cheeks.

“Seriously. You’re a man of many talents.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you.” As soon as we finished, I helped West clean up. As I washed dishes, he pulled ingredients out of his pantry for the cookies. He paused for a moment and looked at me. “Oatmeal raisin or chocolate chip?”

“Will you judge me if I say oatmeal raisin?”

West laughed and shook his head. “Of course not. They’re one of my favorites, too.”

“Perfect. Let’s do it.”

With the ingredients assembled on the counter along with a stand mixer and several bowls, West pointed at the oven. “First step is to preheat the oven.”

“What temperature?”

Before he could answer me, there was a crackle of electricity and the power cut out, plunging us into darkness.