Something about them seems familiar, but I can’t quite place it.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, pushing away the odd feeling their intense gazes give me. “Welcome to Special Blend. What can I get for you?”
“Hot chocolate, please!” Bailey pipes up again, bouncing on his toes.
“Make that two hot chocolates,” Ben adds, ruffling Bailey’s hair. “And yes, Tyler, you can have a cinnamon bun.”
As I prepare their drinks, I notice Tristan and Tate watching me closely. It’s unnerving, but I focus on crafting the perfect hot chocolates, complete with whipped cream and a light dusting of cocoa powder.
“These look amazing,” Indy says as I hand over the drinks. He seems to be trying to ease some tension I don’t quite understand. “If you’d opened in Chester Falls, I’d have some serious competition.”
“How long have you been in Maplewood?” Tate asks, his voice carefully neutral.
“Just a few weeks,” I reply, wrapping up Tyler’s cinnamon bun. “But it already feels like home.”
“Your mother was from here, wasn’t she?” Tristan’s question makes me pause.
“Yes, she was.” I look between them, that nagging feeling of familiarity growing stronger. “Did you know her?”
Ben clears his throat. “We should probably get these two their treats before the sugar crash hits,” he says, guiding Bailey toward a table. The moment breaks, and Tristan and Tate step back, though their eyes never leave my face.
“Thanks for coming in,” I say, forcing a smile despite my confusion. “I hope you enjoy everything.”
As they settle at a table near the window, I can’t shake the feeling that their visit isn’t just about coffee and pastries. And the question about my mom? Weird. Catherine catches my eye from where she’s restocking napkins, her expression concerned. I give her a reassuring nod, but my mind races with questions I can’t quite form.
The bell above the door chimes again, and this time, when I look up, my whole body relaxes as I see Nate. He’s bundled against the cold, his cheeks pink and his hair slightly mussed from the wind. His eyes find mine immediately, and the smile that spreads across his face makes my heart skip.
“Hey,” he says, making his way around the counter. He greets his mom with a quick kiss on the cheek, then comes around to my side. Before I can process what’s happening, he’s cupping my face and pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
Catherine’s delighted giggle makes us both pull back. Nate’s eyes widen slightly as if just realizing what he did.
“Oops,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We probably should have talked about how to tell people about us.”
I feel my cheeks heat but can’t stop smiling. “It’s okay. Your mom already knows.”
“What?” Nate looks between us. “How?”
“Oh, honey,” Catherine says, patting his cheek as she passes by with a tray of fresh pastries. “I’m your mother. I know you better than you think.”
Nate’s sheepish expression is adorable. “Fair enough.” He turns back to me, lowering his voice. “How’s the first day going?”
“Busy,” I say, leaning into him slightly. “But good. Really good.” I glance toward the table near the window, where Tristan and Tate are still watching us. “Though something weird just happened…”
Before I can explain, the bell chimes again and a new wave of customers floods in. Nate steps back, understanding in his eyes.
“I’ll grab a table and wait for the rush to die down,” he says. “Then you can tell me all about it.”
I nod gratefully, already turning to help the next customer. As I work, I catch glimpses of Nate reading a book at a corner table, occasionally looking up to meet my gaze with a soft smile.
“Excuse me?” a small voice pipes up from near my elbow. I look down to find Bailey standing there, clutching what appears to be a picture book from my small collection.
“Hi, Bailey.” I smile. “Did you find something you like?”
“Can I buy this, please?” He holds up the book—a beautifully illustrated story about a young bear finding his way home through a winter forest.
Ben appears behind his son, shaking his head with an amused smile. “Typical.” He chuckles. “I own a bookstore, but my son only ever wants books he sees in other places.”
“The heart wants what it wants.” I laugh, taking the book to ring it up along with their earlier purchases.
