“Fine,” Bryce sighed. “Then, I’ll try to be happy for you. But if you change your mind, let me know.”
“I will.” But even as Colt said goodbye, he knew that would never happen.
As soon as he’d made the decision to stay in Poppy Creek, he hadn’t regretted it for a second.
And once he finalized the details of his grand plan, he’d lay his heart on the line, praying Penny would give him another chance.
When the disgruntled clerk returned with Frank’s item, Colt hoped with fervent optimism that one day soon he’d be picking up an engagement ring of his own.
And he couldn’t wait.
Chapter 29
Strumming his fingertips against the kitchen counter, Colt watched the dark, chocolatey liquid drip slowly through the paper filter into the glass carafe. Based on the aromatic steam wafting toward him, he’d done something right.
Colt knew he’d taken a big risk sneaking out to the roasting barn at the crack of dawn without Frank. He also knew his special blend could turn out to be a total flop.
But if it wasn’t, it could be the key to earning Frank’s respect… and so much more.
He glanced at the vintage avocado-green wall clock—7:05 a.m.
Frank should be awake by now.
After setting the carafe and two mugs—one for himself and one for Frank—on a serving tray, Colt carried it down the hallway toward Frank’s room, detouring when he heard voices echoing from the den.
He hesitated in the doorway, surprised to find Cassie poised on the edge of the couch, holding up a sketchpad for Frank, who lounged in the recliner.
Hearing him enter, Cassie glanced up and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Uh, good morning.” His gaze darted between them. The mornings were the busiest time of day for the café, so Cassie didn’t usually arrive to work on their manuscript until later in the afternoon.
Before he could ask the reason for her visit, Cassie tilted her head back, sniffing the air. “Whatever that is, it smells heavenly. And there’s a hint of something I can’t quite place.”
The corner of Colt’s mouth quirked up slightly. His sister-in-law had a reputation for an impeccable palate and sense of smell. He would take great pride in finally stumping her. “I took the liberty of creating a new blend.” He stole a sideways glance at Frank as he slid the tray onto the coffee table.
Frank didn’t bat an eye, his expression unreadable.
“I’m intrigued. May I?” She reached for the carafe, and Colt nodded, his pulse racing as she poured herself a cup.
Slow and deliberate, Cassie brought the mug to her lips, inhaling deeply before taking her first sip. She swirled the concoction in her mouth a moment, letting it coat every taste bud before swallowing. Her eyes instantly sparked with delight. “Colt, this is delicious! It’s bright and floral with—” She took another sip, her smile lines deepening. “Is that a hint of honey I’m tasting?”
“That’s from the Guatemalan beans,” Colt told her, encouraged by her reaction. “I blended them with a wet process Ethiopian bean. I took them to four hundred and ten degrees. Darker than a blonde roast, but light enough to maintain that crisp, citrusy finish.”
“Well, I’m impressed.” Setting down her mug, she filled the second one. “Frank, you need to try this.”
His hands suddenly clammy, Colt wiped them on his jeans before grabbing the mug Cassie offered him. After passing it to Frank, he took a step back, his heart thrumming wildly as he studied each infinitesimal twitch of an eyebrow or flare of a nostril.
For what felt like hours, Frank didn’t take a sip at all. He merely swished the hot liquid in languid, methodical motions, staring intently into the black, velvety depths.
Unable to bear the agonizing silence, Colt blurted, “Sir, I realize I may have stepped out of line creating this blend on my own. But I’d hoped you’d appreciate my initiative. And if it turns out to be halfway decent, I—” He sucked in a breath, blood pumping inside his eardrums. “I would be honored and grateful if, even after you’ve returned to work, you’d consider hiring me as a secondary roaster. Of course, I realize there’s only enough work for part-time hours, but I’d love to help fulfill the growing café and online orders, plus the various nonprofits you supply.”
Winded by his impromptu monologue, Colt inhaled sharply, trying to regain his equilibrium. A huge part of his future now hung in the balance. And the outcome seemed fuzzy and uncertain at best.
The truth was, due to the side effects from Frank’s heart medication, his sense of taste fluctuated on a regular basis. And if Colt had inexplicably chosen an off day…
He cringed, pushing the thought aside.
Forgoing a reply, Frank took a leisurely sip, slurping as he did so. While not the politest gesture under normal circumstances, Colt knew fromThe Mariposa Methodthat slurping aerated the coffee, spreading it across the tongue and palate, engaging the full spectrum of sensations.
