“Hold on.” Elisa’s hand snaked around Noah’s bicep and tugged him back a few steps.
He tensed, an electric current pulsing from his upper arm down into his fingers. That was the second time she’d touched him today, and the second time he’d felt the contact straight through his sleeve and into his soul.
“What?” Hadn’t he said they were in a hurry? He’d also said they needed to lay low, and her holding onto him like this was definitely not keeping a subtle profile.
Yet none of those facts made him shrug out of her grip.
She leaned in, her voice a tense whisper as her gaze raked the tinted windows. “We don’t know the weather report.”
“Warm. Partially cloudy.” He gestured with his free arm to the sky, where the evidence shined above them.
“That’s not what I meant.” She released him and shoved her sunglasses up into her hair. The abrupt motion only highlighted the dimple in her cheek, which once upon a time he’d used as target practice for his lips.
He stepped aside as a handful of teenagers, obviouslynotconcerned about the weather, hurried inside the coffee shop. “Then what are you talking about? I’ve been here before.” Once. The brew hadn’t been great, but then again, he had been too busy with his to-do list to care.
She gestured over her shoulder toward the building they were still not entering, and he still didn’t know why. “You’ve got to know the weather report before you order.”
He pointedly looked up at the clouds drifting in front of the sun.
“It’s code.” She waved one hand, directing her gaze back to him. “The barista, Miley Mitchell, is the owner’s daughter. But Mr. Mitchell is always traveling. He owns a bunch of other businesses…anyway, she’s in charge, and her moods affect the coffee.”
He scoffed. “That’s crazy.”
“That’s Magnolia Bay.” Elisa lifted one slim shoulder in a shrug.
“No, I mean, that’s scientifically impossible. One wouldn’t affect the other.”
She squinted at him. “You’ve never heard of cookin’ with love?”
“Of course. But that doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“Well, in Miley’s case, it’s the opposite.”
Noah sighed. “We’re wasting time.”
“Suit yourself.” Elisa tossed her hair back and reached for the door, catching it as Sadie Whitlock exited.
“Hey.” Sadie’s gaze darted curiously between the two of them before she smiled at Noah, tucking a thick book under her arm. “How is that old inn shaping up?”
He dipped his head. “It’s getting there.” Sadie had been in her late teens when he’d first accompanied Grandpa toSecond Storyin his youth, and was often there, helping her aunt with the store. Seeing her now up close, it was impossible to disconnect her from the memories of his grandfather.
From the doorway behind Sadie, Elisa quirked one eyebrow at him, her expression clearly readingI thought you were in a hurry.
He was. But Sadie was still talking. “I know I saw you at the memorial service, and we didn’t get a chance to speak yesterday at the diner, but I wanted to express my condolences again for your loss.” She tilted her head, her curly brown hair brushing across the knotted straps of her brightly patterned sundress. “Your grandfather is very missed.”
An unexpected ball of emotion rose in his throat. Noah swallowed. “I appreciate it. I know he enjoyed your family’s store.”
Sadie’s friendly gaze softened as she adjusted the hold on her novel. “You should stop by—for old times’ sake.”
“I don’t have a lot of spare time for reading right now, with the renovation.” Noah reached to take the weight of the door Elisa still held open. “But I’ll try.”
“Of course. See you around.” Sadie dipped her head in acknowledgment of Elisa as she turned to leave, polite but distant. If Sadie’s family had been friendly to Grandpa all those years, it only made sense they’d be cooler to the Heberts. It was the Magnolia way.
Noah gestured for Elisa to go inside.Nowthey could get started.
But Elisa stepped back out of the shop, raising one arm after Sadie, who had already moved several paces down the sidewalk. “Wait!”
Sadie turned at her call, her brows arched.
