After I’d finished the last brush stroke, I stepped back to admire my work. Wanting more time to enjoy the peaceful fall night, I took a page out of Jace McKinley’s book and sat on the cool concrete in front of the coffee shop, staring up at the stars. No one around, just me and the wide open sky.
Now that it was a new day, my mind wandered to thoughts of my warm bed and comfy pillow. A deep yawn made its way to the surface as I turned the key to the front door of the coffee shop. I needed some caffeine and quick. My terrible sleeping habits had already caught up with me, so it was going to be a long day.
“You’re already yawning?” Ellie joked as she walked up behind me, ready to start the long day of coffee orders and small talk alongside me. “Did you stay up late watching murder documentaries again?”
I laughed because Ellie knew me well. As my best friend, she knew everything about me—the good, the bad and the ugly—which is why she wasn’t surprised when I told her what happened last night between my mom and me. The only thingthat surprised her was that I’d let Jace come in and comfort me.Sort of?
“You’re telling me Jace McKinley, as in my future brother-in-law, saw you crying, then hugged you, and you didn’t even kick him in the balls?” she asked slowly, like she was still processing what I’d said.
“Yes, I know it’s weird. And no, I don’t know why I let it happen. I just didn’t have the energy to kick him out, I guess. Besides, how could I be mean to him after I’d already broken his damn foot?”
“I told you he wasn’t such a bad guy, Cass,” she said, wearing a satisfied smile.
“The jury’s still out. One night of being semi-nice doesn’t change the fact that he’s got an ego the size of a hot air balloon. Plus, he’s reckless, and I can’t stand reckless.”
“Whatever you say.” Ellie shrugged her shoulders playfully and walked away.
I made my way over to the window and plugged in the Open sign, signaling to the customers on the street that we were ready for the day. It wouldn’t be long before everyone started rolling in.
Standing at the window, I watched as the cars drove by. Some of them pulled into parking spots, and others continued down the main road that ran between the updated storefronts of downtown Silver Creek, each car on its way to its own destination.
But one in particular caught my attention.
It was a black truck with darker-than-normal tint on the windows, and based on the way it shined, it was new.
The truck came to a slow roll, stopping at the red light in front of the coffee shop.
From the muscular, tattooed arm sticking out of the driver’s window, my version of McDreamy was probably driving it.
What could I say? I was a sucker for guys with tattoos, which was why I had to try very hard to hold it together the other day when I realized Jace had a sleeve of them now. Tattoos were an instant panty dropper for me, but Jace sure as hell didn’t need to know that about me.
As the light turned green, the truck rolled forward, turning slowly into a parking spot in the middle of town. The driver parked, then hopped out. His strong grip wrapped around the edge of the door frame before slamming it shut. As he made his way around the back of the truck, I bent down, trying to get a better view of his face as he crossed the road, arriving on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop.
He walked closer, his face coming into view just in time for him to spot me staring at him through the window.
I jumped back, as if he hadn’t just caught me red-handed.
Turning my head ever so slightly, my eyes landed on McDreamy, realization hitting me instantly.
This was no McDreamy. It was a McKinley—Jace McKinley.
Fuck my life.
Not only had Jace caught me staring at him through the window, but the tingling between my legs was a sure sign that my body wasn’t getting the memo that we didn’t like him that way.
Traitor.
Just because he drove a nice truck, had tattoos, and held me while I cried last night didn’t mean he wasn’t still a raging douchebag.
The only acceptable response at this point was to be mean and set the tone. Draw the line in the sand, if you will.
Before he could turn the handle on the front door of the coffee shop, I jumped in front of it, locking it just in time.
He grinned, finding enjoyment out of whatever you called this moment between us.
“I need some coffee, and rumor has it this place has the best in town. Open the door, please,” he said, giving me his best puppy-dog eyes.
“Fuck off, McDreamy—I mean McKinley,” I replied, correcting myself as I flipped him off through the glass.
