I paused, trying to pull up her name. Hmm. Something with anM. Mae? No. Maeve, if I remembered correctly. I shuffled through the bios Lou had been peppering me with over the past two weeks in her effort to give me a social life. If I had the right person, Maeve’s sister owned the café, and I thought I remembered Lou saying Maeve was new to town and was going to be a part owner here.
Moving toward her with a few butterflies in my stomach that always appeared when I wasn’t certain about something, I reached out a hand. “Maeve, right? And before you get into this bone you’d like to pick, what’s up with the two-dimensional Momoa?”
Maeve nodded toward the cardboard cutout. “That’s Flat Max, a nod to our Momoa-look-alike friend who works at Highland Woods and is married to Emma from the library. He gives Allyson good advice whether it’s the cutout or the in-the-flesh version.” Maeve clasped my hand in both of hers, moving on like what she’d just said made any sense. “I’d hug you if this counter wasn’t in the way. But back to my bone—why haven’t you called?”
My face heated, and I was certain the flush would spread to my neck. So that was her issue. I chose to play ignorant. “For what?”
She shook her head at me. “I gave you my number, remember? At the Homestead? We need to have dinner, and I’ll introduce you to the ladies in town. Getting to know folks in a small town isn’t always easy—I can help.”
It was true. I thought back to my exhausted arrival; Maeve had given me her number when I first met her. However, I’d assumed she was doing it to be polite more than actually wanting to get together.
“Oh, sorry.” I bit my lip. The stupid insecurity that had plagued me since childhood rose up. I always felt like others were better at social interactions than I was. I never seemed to read people correctly. That was why fictional stories were easier.
Maeve studied me for a minute, then kindly changed the topic and gestured at the case in front of her. “What can I get you today?”
Relaxing at the easier direction of conversation, I looked at the case and my mouth watered.
“Sorry.” Maeve pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked back up at her, confused as to why she would apologize. “We usually have more offerings, but we close in an hour, so we’re down to these choices.”
This was a smaller assortment than normal? I mean, I’d take any of it. I pointed out a ham-and-cheese croissant and ordered a vanilla latte. Maeve sent me on my way after I paid, saying she’d bring it over and I could pick a seat.
I scanned the place and selected a deep leather armchair near a window with a low table between it and another chair. They both faced the windows, and I liked the idea of shutting out the folks in here that I didn’t know and just watching the dreary April sky.
My current work in progress was at a tricky spot, and some daydreaming might be just what I needed. Contrary to what so many people seemed to believe, my characters weren’t people from my real life and the sex scenes certainly weren’t a documentary. Hell, if that were the case, a barren desert would be a more apt metaphor. Whatwasreal in my books was music I listened to, places I’d been, conversations I’d overheard, bits and pieces of people I’d seen. I stole it all, mixed it in a blender, and out popped a romance. If I was lucky. Sometimes it was more akin to trying to build a house in the middle of a tornado.
And this story was one of those being constructed in the midst of a storm. I wasn’t sure if it was the fault of the story or my new awareness of readers, but the pressure was getting to me. I’d already had my fourth book ready for publication when book three took off, so I’d had no issue there. But writing book five was far harder than it should have been.
As I lost myself looking out the window, I felt someone next to me and looked to my left. Maeve gave me a smile as she placed my order on the table between us before curling up in the other armchair with her own coffee. She looked over her mug with light in her eyes, almost a mischievous glint. The hum of conversation from the café’s patrons surrounded us as a soft rain drizzled down the window. I felt cocooned for the moment. Safe.
“Maeve.” I acknowledged her as I picked up my coffee and gave her the room to say whatever it was she needed to get out. The first sip hit me with surprise—it was far and away one of the best vanilla lattes I’d had. Considering Dark Matter in Chicago had spoiled me for excellent coffee, that was saying something.
“Jules.” She took another sip, then said in a gentle voice, “I get the feeling that you and I are opposites in terms of personality.”
“Oh?” My heart sank. Was she trying to say she didn’t want me to call her after all? While I was nervous about having a new friend, if I was honest, I also truly wanted one. It was a conundrum that I didn’t understand myself.
Maeve gave me a gentle smile. “I just mean that you seem a bit more reserved than I am, and I don’t want to force you into a social gathering if you aren’t interested.” She wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t lived here—officially—very long, just a few weeks, but I’ve visited often. Your aunt can be a force of nature, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with us.”
I covered my face as a snort escaped. “Lou, a force of nature? Yeah, that’s an apt description.” Taking a breath, I worked to calm my nerves. “And thanks. Honestly, I’m jealous of your ease at talking to strangers, but I’d love to meet you and your friends for dinner sometime. I promise to work on coming out of my shell because I’d rather fast-track some friendships if possible. It took several years to find a few people I was comfortable around in Chicago.” Come to think of it, I hadn’t heard from any of them other than Kylie since I left, so not sure how strong those friendships were to begin with. I guess I’d call most of them acquaintances and doubted I’d see them again.
Maeve’s smile widened. “Excellent. How do you feel about an early dinner in a couple of hours? Homestead? Some of the women I’m friends with are open, and we’re meeting there at five.”
I swallowed down the strong inclination to say no and race home to hibernate instead. “Sounds good. Guess this croissant will be my appetizer?”
Maeve held up her coffee cup to click it with mine. “We’ll see you at five, chickie.”
Chapter 2
Dinner Plans
Noah
I stood outside the local elementary, scanning the kids as they exited the building. The long line of cars for pickup made me grateful, once again, for my home just off the downtown area. It was less than a half mile from my place to Addie’s school, and I didn’t have to deal with the hell of waiting in that line. The light rain had let up, but the gray skies made me worry more might be on the way.
“Daddy!”
Addie’s screech from across the playground brought me back to the present, as I’m sure it did for anyone within earshot. My girl tore out of the line and ran at me, ignoring anything that was in her path. I crouched down with my arms outstretched and worked to brace against her eventual force. She might be small, but she was mighty.
When she hit my chest, I wrapped my arms around her and stood up, marveling once again that I’d had a hand in creating this perfection.
