6. Arielle

six

Arielle

“Graham’s wife had a boy, and they named him Vincente,” Christian reports from the high-top table he’s been sitting at all morning. The power has been restored, but since Graham couldn’t come in, we offered to help again. We are on day two of running this place, and we’ve quickly settled into a pattern, where Christian “works” on his laptop, and I help all the actual customers.

It’s fine though.

Keeping my hands moving is preventing me from thinking about Tom. Whoops, I just thought of him again. He’s sneaky like that. Also, the people in this little town are the sweetest. I’ve learned a lot about this place. Like, how they have a new AHL hockey team that is extremely bad, but the town loves them anyway. Or how they have a famous restaurant called Red Barn Kabobs that started in an actual barn. I’ve learned so many random facts about this place from the small-town gossip mill, but the thing I’m most curious to know about is that lumberjack who was in here yesterday.

He's so different from any of the men I see in Boston, and he had this easygoing way about him, despite how huge and scary he should have looked. It was oddly alluring. I’ve found myself peeking out the window every few minutes, hoping to see his truck at the park.

“You’re not hoping Tom is going to show up, are you?” Christian parks a hand on his hip, his big brother tone firing in all decibels. “I know you think you love him, but I guarantee if I ever see his scrawny little body again, I’m going to make sure he knows he’s not welcome.”

“No.” My brows furrow together. “Of course not—” I stop myself because I don’t care to argue. Something about being out here in the mountains is a respite from so many things, including any desire I would normally feel to defend myself. I didn’t know it when we first set out for this place, but it was exactly what I needed. “I’m watching the snow, wondering if we are going to leave tomorrow.”

“We better.” Christian slams his laptop shut and slips off the stool with urgency. “I need to be back on Long Island for a food vendor show. It’s the largest one of the year, and I’m hoping to snag some more catering clients.” Christian flashes his phone screen at me, and a swaddled-up baby stares at me.

“Aw, cute.” I smile at the photo, as if the baby can see my big cheesy grin through the phone. “I’m glad mom and baby are safe.”

“Graham says he’ll be back to work tomorrow for part-time hours.” His brows lower as he reads his phone. “What is this? I have a text message I didn’t see.” He taps on his phone, reading aloud, “‘The Coffee Loft truck will be here in five minutes.’ Oh, man.” His gaze jerks to the backdoor where the loading dock is. “We might have to lock up early.” He scoops up his laptop, stuffing it into the backpack he always carries. “The truck is bringing all our Coffee Loft branding. I can’t wait to see it because they are transitioning to a new color scheme of blue and cream. After it’s set up, I’ll need to shut down for a few days. I’ll have a huge grand opening in the next couple of weeks.” He zips his bag and slips it onto his back. “That will happen on the next trip though. I can’t be gone that long. I’ve put an ad in the newspaper for an assistant manager’s position. It’s best if I leave it open for at least a week. Then I can come down to interview and hopefully hire and train.” His eyebrows wag playfully at me as he drops his voice, pretending to add an evil inflection when he says, “It’s all part of my master plan.”

An assistant manager position.

I sort of like the sound of that.

It definitely has a better ring than “my dad’s cleaning lady.”

I’m not sure why I never thought of working for Christian for real before, but I could easily get used to this little town. The thing is, if I say something about it now, Christian will think I’m running away from my problems. My jaw twitches, begging me to offer to take the job, but I don’t take the bait. It’s too soon. I need to show him I’m serious about the job, and not just about hiding out.

The door whips open, pulling my gaze with it. My heart instantly thrums against my chest to see the same imposing, bearded man who was in here yesterday. “Good morning.” I bite my lip, trying to keep from smiling too large as I sneak a glance at his forearms.

“Good morning.” He nods to Christian, who is hurrying to the back, and waves on his way out to meet the truck.

The man’s eyes are fast to meet mine. My heart skips a beat when he doesn’t look away. I swallow and move my feet until I’m behind the coffee bar. “Nice to see you again. What can I get you?”

He’s slow to pull his gaze away from me and onto the menu. “I guess that depends if you have coffee today?”

“So sorry.” I shake my head and stare off in the direction Christian just left. “We are transitioning to a Coffee Loft franchise. My boss decided rather than fix the equipment, he’s waiting to install the new stuff.” I pull my lips into a big smile, hoping to smooth everything over. I’m not sure why I care so much about making this man happy, but he’s huge. I would hate to see him grumpy. Especially if he hasn’t had his coffee yet. “Tomorrow,” I rush out. “We’ll have our new stuff and trust me.” I lean in, as if I’m letting him in on a secret, “We’ll have our signature Coffee Loft blends. Once you try those, the wait will all be worth it.”

His lips straighten into a neutral expression. Under his thick beard, it’s hard to read if he’s upset. I hate to warn off customers when we haven’t even officially opened. “How about this?” I blurt out, hoping he doesn’t leave upset. “I’ll make whatever tea you want, and it’s on me today, but you have to promise to come back tomorrow to try the coffee.”

“You’re asking me to come back tomorrow?” His dark eyes hover over mine, tension rising between us, and my heart beats hard against my chest.

“F-For coffee,” I stutter.

His broad shoulders move up and down and he stares deeply into my eyes, as if he can feel how hard my heart is beating. The silence drags on past a normal pause into something that feels like a challenge, a languid flirtation with so much deep eye contact, it affects my breathing. “I guess I’ll stop back tomorrow.” His words are smooth, easy.

His gaze drives my adrenaline to rapid fire through my veins, and it makes me feel attractive in a way that Tom never made me feel. He never looked at me like that. All I want to do is think of something witty to banter back, but that’s not something I’ve ever been good at. “You’ll be glad you did because you’ll love it,” I finish in my best professional tone, despite my heart hammering out beats. I swallow and carry on in my happy-to-serve-you voice. “How about another tea like I made you yesterday?”

“That would be great.” His gaze drifts to the floor for a moment before he lifts it back to me. “I, ah, am sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you yesterday when you came over to the park. Was there something you needed?”

I can feel a warm blush creep on my cheeks as that whole scene was so cringe. I had tried to talk to him, but clearly, I wasn’t the only woman vying for his attention. I guess I’m not the only one who thinks he’s handsome. Sighing, I answer with the safest answer I can, “No, I was out on a walk for some fresh air, and thought I’d say hi.”

“Well, either way, I’m sorry we got interrupted,” he says. I struggle not to stare at his hands when he offers me his card. I pass his cup over, and our fingertips brush together. I can’t help but think that was intentional—on both our parts. Goosebumps spiral up my arm as we hold each other’s gazes. They are joined by a magnetism I’ve never felt. We reluctantly exchange goodbyes. When he leaves the store, my heart beats so rapidly, it’s like I just worked out.

“Relax,” I breathe out, letting my shoulders fall as I scold myself.

This is ridiculous to be this flustered.

I’m obviously overly emotional about Tom still and have forgotten how to have normal interactions with men. I shake my head as I reach for a towel and wipe my sweating palms off.

Get a grip, girl.

It’s just a man.

A gorgeous and muscular man, whose smile has the power to stop my heart—that’s all.

And besides, I’ve sworn off dating—forever.

My gaze makes a circular arc around the tops of my eyes as I rethink that. All I can think of is that man’s smile.

Well . . . maybe not forever.

Just until I get over Tom.