“Okay, I’ve officially driven through some portal into another world. Who the hell does that?”
“Tate Reynolds does. He won an ungodly number of millions and actually did good with it.”
“So, of course you’re one thousand percent in love with him.”
“No—I...”
“Sparkles, you’re freaking glowing. If you’re not in love with him, you’re definitely dickmatized, which is a precursor. Just ask Lindz.”
“I’ll own up to the good sex. That’s all it can be.” I focused on the town outside my window. I couldn’t be in love with him. My actual life was in the city and on the road. It couldn’t be here in Haven no matter how amazing Tate was.
Soon enough I’d have to get back to my insane cycle of writing and recording.
“If you say so, Sparkles.”
“If you want coffee take a left on Destiny.”
“Freaking Destiny,” James muttered. “The coffee better be good.”
“It’s actually better than most of the shops in Manhattan.”
“You lie. You’re just high on orgasms and home cooking.”
“You’ll see.” I pointed to Haven Café. “There’s a parking lot in the back.” I grabbed onto the dash as she bounced over the curb without even slowing down.
She took a spot toward the back where this beast of an oversized Jeep would fit. And I was pretty sure that she could park it without incident. James wasn’t exactly known for her careful driving.
We both hopped out and crossed to the back door to the café. Inside, the scent of nutmeg and fresh baked bread made my stomach roar. I was getting a little too used to Tate’s morning offerings, but he’d been too busy to make his own coffee for the last week. Our morning ritual of eggs and slow starts had been off the menu.
A bell chimed as we stepped inside. Fall foliage colors covered every corner of the small space. Baskets of burnt orange and burgundy mums created a cornucopia of homemade jams, baked goods, and bags of Haven Café’s personal blend of coffee beans. It was late enough in the morning that there were only a few people at tables by the window.
Unfortunately, one of them was Megan from the salon.
She spotted me and quickly popped up from her table covered in papers and her laptop. “Amber, so nice to see you again.” She hurried over to me. “I just wanted to thank you again for the shout-out. I can’t keep up with all the people looking for an appointment.”
“I hope it hasn’t been too crazy.”
“Oh, it has, but in the best way.” She waved her hand still bandaged up. “I can’t wait to get the okay to pull out my shears. I had to hire two more hairdressers from Albany to come up here to help out.”
“That’s awesome.”
She glanced from me to James and her jaw dropped. “Holy shit.”
James jammed her hands into her motorcycle jacket pockets. She’d never been great about being recognized, but instead of her snarky self she got quiet.
“James, this is Megan. She helped out with de-Ambrosing me after the tour.”
Hell, even I was talking about Ambrose as a separate person. It just slipped out without me even thinking about it.
James smiled tightly. “Hey. Her hair looks better than usual. Good job.”
“Gee thanks,” I muttered.
James’s fake smile bled into her sly smile for a second.
Megan’s eyes grew even bigger. “You’re Jamison DuCaine,” she whispered.
“Guilty.”
