“There’s my favorite neighbor!” she exclaims, releasing him with a bright smile. “I can’t thank you enough for reopening Special Blend. The traffic from your shop has been spilling into mine all week.”
“That’s great!” Caspian beams.
“Although…” Olivia puts her hands on her hips with mock sternness. “I might have to join the gym if I keep sampling your pastries. Having them right next door is dangerous for my willpower.”
“Worth it though, right?” I can’t help but chime in, thinking of Mom’s maple pecan danish I had this morning.
“Absolutely worth it,” Olivia agrees. “Oh, before I forget—Bo wanted me to remind you about the festival committee meeting next week. We’re already starting to plan for the Pride Festival.”
“Count me in. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried my rainbow-spiced latte.” Caspian checks his watch, and his eyes widen slightly. “Speaking of planning, I should probably go.” He turns to me apologetically.
“Let’s go, I’ll help you manage the line,” I say, waving goodbye to Olivia as we head toward Special Blend’s festival stand.
We brought everything over earlier since it’s just across from the coffee shop, and Caspian clearly has a system all worked out because he’s organized cups and supplies to help him reach for everything quickly. I help where I can, but mostly, I just enjoy watching him work. He moves with such confidence now, and judging by the number of people who come over just to say hi, it’s like he’s lived in Maplewood all his life.
Once the line dies down and everyone is visiting other stands or by the amphitheater watching tonight’s show, I kiss his cheek. “Looks like you’ve got this handled. Mind if I go say hi to Amelia? I’ve just spotted her by Ever’s honey stall.”
“Go ahead,” he says, already focusing on the espresso machine. “I’ll see you later?”
“Count on it,” I reply, stealing one last quick kiss before heading off into the growing festival crowd.
As I cross the park toward Amelia, I spot those guys from Special Blend’s opening day—Ben, Indy, and the twins. Something about Caspian’s unease with the twins has been nagging at me, and when I notice them huddled together in what looks like an intense discussion, I slow my pace.
The one with his hair in a bun—Indy, I think—is holding one of the twins’ hands. “We have to tell him,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You saw him, Tate. Caspian seems really nice. He’ll take the news well.”
I pretend to be checking my phone while I listen, my protective instincts kicking in. What news could they possibly have for Caspian?
“I know,” the other twin—must be Tristan—says, his arm draped over the shoulders of the guy in glasses who I remember is Ben. “I want to speak to him. He needs to know. We’ve come all this way.”
Their words send a chill through me that has nothing to do with the winter air. The serious tone of their conversation, combined with how they were watching Caspian at Special Blend, sets off warning bells in my head.
Before I can stop myself, I’m walking toward their huddled group. “Excuse me.”
They all turn to look at me, startled by my interruption. The twins share an uncanny resemblance up close, though one—Tate, I think—has slightly longer hair.
“I’m Nate, Caspian’s boyfriend.” The word still feels new on my tongue, but I say it firmly. “I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation, but I did, and I’m concerned. What exactly do you want with him?”
The four men exchange glances before Ben steps forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. “I’m Ben. This is my husband Tristan”—he motions to one of the twins—“and this is Tate and his husband Indy.”
“Nice to meet you,” Indy says, his smile genuine despite the tension.
They seem friendly enough, but the overheard conversation still rings in my ears. “Look, I don’t mean to be confrontational, but while you all seem friendly enough, Caspian mentioned feeling uneasy about your visit to Special Blend. And now I hear you talking about having news for him…”
Tristan and Tate share another look before Tate speaks. “We’re related to Caspian,” he says quietly. “But he doesn’t know it yet.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Related how?”
“We’re his brothers,” Tristan says. “Half-brothers, technically. We only found out recently ourselves, when our father passed away.”
“We want to talk to him,” Tate adds, “but we don’t know how. The coffee shop’s always busy, and this isn’t exactly the kind of conversation you have between serving customers.”
Ben looks at his husband with concern, then turns to Tate. “Maybe Nate can help. He seems to care about Caspian, and having someone Caspian trusts there might make it easier.”
“I do want to help,” I say, torn between protecting Caspian and recognizing the sincerity in these men’s faces. “But I need to know more. This is a lot for anyone to take in, and I don’t want Caspian to get hurt.”
Tate nods, understanding written across his features.
“Caspian’s been through a lot,” I add. “Losing his mom. Moving here. This news…could be overwhelming.”
