Chapter 1

1

EMMA

F resh coffee is the best smell in the entire world. At least, I used to think so.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve discovered what’s even better: the scent of coffee when it’s combined with the aroma of oatmeal spiced muffins baking and the fresh mountain forest breeze whenever someone opens the door of the café. The coffee beans, spices, and pine together are glorious.

Can you tell I love my new job?

Wiping down the counter again, even though it’s already spotless, I look around and smile at the three middle-aged women sitting at the booth in front of the window, and the two older men playing cards in the back.

I think it’ll take a while for me really to learn the rhythm of Cedarville, but I’m starting to get the hang of it. Mondays are pretty sleepy. Tuesdays even more so. The rest of the week is steady without being too busy. Charming Café…yes, that’s its name…has the best coffee in town, and almost everyone passes through to say hello and grab their favorite morning brew.

It’s friendly and simple and wholesome – and, best of all, hundreds of miles from my bitchy, opinionated sisters.

Plus, everything is so much more affordable! I don’t have to work all the time to make ends meet: I can do a reasonable number of hours, and still have time and energy for a hike after work. At least, once my feet are used to it.

A large truck rumbles by and my eyes flick to the row of buildings across the street. The owners of the clothing store and hair salon I already know as they come here for coffee quite often. The unit on the end – a tattoo shop called “As The Crow Inks” – has been closed the entire time I’ve been working at the café, but I notice today that the lights are on again and there’s a black motorcycle out front.

My boss, Desire Charming (although I doubt either of those names is real) mentioned that the tattoo place always closed for a couple of weeks every summer. Maybe it’s the off season?

A timer goes off in the back. I can see why Desire usually has two people working at a time Wednesdays through Saturdays – it’s a juggling act to keep the baked goods coming out smoothly while you’re also working the counter.

I hurry back to the industrial stove, yank on some thick oven mitts, and open the door. I’ve learned the hard way to wait a few seconds for the blast wave of heat to clear before reaching in. Just as I’m easing the tray out, I jump when I hear the bell over the front door dingle, smacking the muffins against the top of the oven and possibly denting the ones in the back. Great.

Quickly setting the tray down, I dash back to the front…

And stop dead in my tracks.

The most gorgeous man in the entire world is smiling at me.

He looks…dramatic. Like a movie star. No, a movie star playing a rock star. His jet-black hair makes his dark brown eyes look nearly black as well. He’s very tall and beyond ripped, with layers of muscle along his wide shoulders and down his ink-swirled arms. The worn black jeans and black tank top are casual, and the leather studded wristband adds a hint of danger.

I’d bet my socks that the motorcycle across the street is his.

“Hey,” he drawls. My knees almost buckle when I hear how low and smoky his voice is. “You’re new.”

“Yeah. I just started here. I’m Emma.”

A grin lights up his eyes almost wickedly. “I’m Crow.”

“Crow?” I blink in surprise, nervously smoothing down my apron. Yikes, I hope that didn’t come out sounding too rude. “Well, at least now I know where the shop across the street got its name.”

He runs a hand through his hair, chuckling. “Yeah. One of those things that cracked up my friends so hard I had to use it.”

“Makes sense.” I want to ask him about his name. His shop. Anything at all, just to keep him talking to me for as long as possible. Maybe try being professional. “What can I get you this morning?”

He lifts up the bright purple mug that he’d been holding at his side. Chunky white letters read: 1) Fill With Coffee 2) Stand Back.

Laughing, I take the mug, rinsing it out with hot water. His eyebrows drift up. “You don’t think I washed it?”

“Oh, it looks clean. But if I warm it, your coffee will stay hot longer.”

His grin of approval sends tingles sparking up my spine. “Detail-oriented. I like that.”

I fill the mug with coffee, then hand it back. “Anything else? Muffin, scone, maybe a tart?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.” He drops a five on the counter, flashing me a grin. “Maybe when I come back in an hour. My kettle broke, so I’m at your mercy for a few days.”

“An hour it is. I’ll set my watch.”

Crow nods, amused. There’s something about the way he looks at me that makes me feel…what is it? Like that feeling in the air before a storm. I suddenly find myself wishing this counter wasn’t in the way so I could get closer to him.

He hesitates, slowly turning to leave. Then he stops in his tracks so fast his coffee nearly spills. He sets his mug down and dashes behind the counter at a frightening speed.

I follow him to the kitchen, where he’s taking something out of the oven with tongs.

Oh no. It’s a completely scorched muffin, smoking something fierce.

He opens the back door, getting the sad, smoldering pile of oat cinders out of the kitchen in seconds. “Open the windows quickly, so the fire alarms don’t go off.”

I obey immediately, then prop the door open as well, while he strides to the end of the back parking lot and deposits the blackened blob near the end of the pavement.

“If it had rained lately, I’d have thrown it into the brush for the ants and worms,” he says as he returns. “But I don’t want to drop a flaming muffin onto dry grass. Don’t worry – the birds will take care of it fast enough.”

“Thank you so much.”

He follows me inside, turning on the oven and ceiling fans. There’s only a slight smoky residue left. “You’ll want to run those for just a few minutes so the smoke doesn’t settle.”

“Oh. Um. Okay. Thanks.”

“Where’s your extinguisher?”

I point to where it’s hanging on the wall next to the door.

“Now, if there had been actual flames inside the oven…” He lifts it from the wall to show me. “Pull this pin. Stay safely back and aim for the base of the flames using a gentle, sweeping motion. If it doesn’t look like you’ll get it out completely within thirty seconds, holler for somebody to call 911. Got it?”

My head is swimming. “Yes. Thanks.”

He puts it back and I head toward the front, hoping the smoke doesn’t follow me.

“Hey.” Crow stops me in the narrow passageway between the kitchen and the area behind the front counter. His body feels huge so close to mine. “It’s okay. It can happen to anyone.”

“Thank you.” My hands nervously twist my apron. “I just can’t believe you smelled such a small bit of smoke. Have you had a lot of baking accidents or something?”

Crow chuckles, and my heart nearly stops when he reaches out to flatten the piece of my hair that always kinks into a freaky wave at the top of my head. “I’m a volunteer firefighter. We learn to use our noses as much as our eyes. We just finished our big annual training shindig, actually.”

“So that’s why you were closed.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I really appreciate your help. Another minute and it would have stunk something fierce.”

He fixes a different piece of my hair… Is it just an excuse to touch me? There’s something in the way he stares so deeply into my eyes. I’m completely flustered from being this close to him.

Man, I hope I’m not blushing. He’ll think that I’m hopeless.

“I’ll see you in around an hour.” Crow grins, then winks rakishly. “The place won’t have burned to the ground, will it?”

“I feel terrible about that fallen muffin.” My bottom lip thrusts out. “But I’m allowed to make one mistake, right?”

“As long as you keep a firefighter close by, sure.” My breath catches as he leans right against my ear. “I’m going to come back and ask you out tonight,” he whispers. “Are you going to say yes?”

It takes me a moment to swallow. To breathe. Blink. Focus. “I probably know how to say yes in two or three languages, for what it’s worth.”

I love the way his entire face lights up when he grins. “Good.” He hands me a business card. “Feel free to call or text if anything else catches fire. See you soon.” He strides out of the shop, grabbing his mug on the way.

I’m going to have to collect myself and top up people’s coffee. I’m going to have to serve the people who are just pulling up out front. I’m going to have to convince myself that one date isn’t necessarily going to lead me down the path I’ve been avoiding.

But for ten more seconds, I’m going to downright ogle Crow’s muscular butt as he walks away.