One
Megs slumpedagainst the espresso machine and brushed her curls behind her ears. "He actually called you that?"
"Swear on my life." Haley, perched at the counter, waved her muffin like a judge's gavel. Her dark hair framed her face in a symmetrical blunt bob, accentuating her almond eyes and dark brows. "I guess that's what I get for giving him my number. Paul had a dirty mind even back in seventh grade."
"I mean, fair." Megs grinned as Haley took an eager bite of her blueberry muffin and wiped the crumbs from her lips. "Did he show up at Juicy?"
Haley nodded. "Right at closing." Haley had built her juice empire in small-town Vermont from scratch, and Megs secretly, or not so secretly idolized her. Though, as best friend to her effortlessly cool older sister, Haley didn’t have to try much to reach goddess status. “How’s Bobbi?”
Megs sighed. “Not sure. I haven’t talked with her since last week. I think she’s swamped with post-production drama.” The past few weeks had been an anomaly. Megs and her older sister had actually talkedmoresince Bobbi had taken herinternship-turned-full-time gig with a production company in Vancouver than they had in the past four years of their lives combined. Including the time Bobbi lived in Sugar Creek.
“Oh, the life of the rich and famous.” Haley took another bite.
Megs laughed and dragged out the top rack of the dishwasher to finish loading. Closing time was in five minutes, and Green Mountain Grinds had been empty for the last half-hour. She may get out of here early today, thanks to the pumpkin patch opening this morning.
"Speaking of showing up at closing . . ." Haley nodded toward the front door, and Megs groaned. She'd forgotten to lock up and turn off the 'open' sign.
"Hey, I'm so sorry, but—" Megs started, then froze as she took in the man striding through the door. He was tall, dressed in a collared shirt and fitted charcoal slacks with a leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was mussed in anI just ran my hands through thiskind of way, and as he pushed his tortoiseshell glasses up his nose, Megs momentarily forgot how she’d intended to finish that sentence.
He approached the counter. "Afternoon." Megs bobbed her head, then realized her mouth was hanging open and closed it. He glanced down and pulled out his wallet. "Can I get a latte, please?"
The man's deep voice made Megs' heart flutter like a butterfly trapped in a net. Megs cleared her throat. "Actually, the shop is—"
"Aboutto close,” Haley cut in. “You snuck in right before the buzzer." Megs shot her a look as Haley hopped off her stool to go lock the front door.
"You like basketball?" the man called after her.
Haley glanced back in confusion, but Megs didn’t miss abeat. "The buzzer comment, Hales!” She turned to start on the coffee. “Do people still watch that?”
“Watch what?” the man asked behind her.
“Basketball.”
He shrugged. “Based on the ads I see, Naismith’s legacy seems to be far from fading into obscurity.”
“You know those ads are curated, right?” Megs looked over her shoulder and grinned. "Whipped cream?"
"No, thank you." He smiled, revealing a dimple on his left cheek.Who was this guy?She knew ninety percent of the people who came into Green Mountain on any given day, and she wouldn’t have forgotten a face like his.
“I don’t trust anyone who says no to whipped cream.” Haley slid back onto her stool.
He sighed. “People with dairy allergies. So sketchy.”
Megs snorted as steam hissed through the coffee maker. Anyone with a dairy allergy wouldnotbe ordering a latte. The man smirked as Haley finished her muffin, brushed off her hands, and pushed the plate toward the sink.
"Thanks for keeping me company." Megs scrubbed the counter and took Haley's saucer.
"If you pay me in gluten-free blueberry muffins, I'll keep you company every day." Haley grinned, then mouthedgood luckto Megs as she walked toward the door. "See you when? Sunday night?"
"Maybe, not sure." Megs pulled a coffee cup from the rack.
"Not sure aboutkaraoke?I'm horrified, but I'll let the comment pass this time. As long as you're there at seven." Haley waved and pushed out onto the street.
As the door closed, Megs’ awareness of the man standing at the counter behind her skyrocketed. Her mind wandered to a thousand different possibilities.Lawyer from Chicago sent to purchase a plot of land and ruin a small business. Recentlydivorced. From California looking to start over and find himself in a small town.No, the glasses screamed writer.
Megs blushed and hoped dark-hair-and-glasses guy would ascribe her pink cheeks to the molten hot liquid pouring into the mug in front of her. She twirled a spoon in the foam and set the coffee cup on a saucer, then handed it to him. “Your allergenic coffee, sir.”
"Perfect." The man studied her for a moment.
