Chapter Six
Ruby
I’m halfwayto the stirrer station, wiping whipped cream off my lips, when I collide with a man stepping into my path like a human roadblock. His head’s down, glued to his phone in one hand, coffee in the other. I try for an abrupt halt but can’t avoid making contact.
It’s the phone that takes the hit, popping out of his grip like a launched frisbee, arcing toward the ceiling in dramatic slow motion.
All I can think is,If that screen breaks, I’m paying him back in daisies, because that’s all my bank account can handle.
I extend my arm, and miraculously the phone lands in it. As gracefully as I can, I pass it back. “Here you go,” I say lightly.
The man takes it and our eyes meet. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and all sharp lines with a perfectly trimmed, gray-flecked beard, tailored suit, and the kind of handsome that makes you forget your own name for a second. He’s somewhere in his forties and looks like he was carved out of expensive marble and instructed never to smile unless absolutely necessary.
His expression screams,Do not engage!
Naturally, I engage.
“Good catch, huh?” I say. “It’s thanks to my time playing professional football.”
He’s checking his phone for damage. When he doesn’t answer or even crack a smile, I add, “Need help with anything?”
His eyes are now above my head at the blackboard menu. “Trying to find something that isn’t covered in sugar.”
“Good luck,” I say, brushing past him to grab napkins. “This place runs on sugar and gossip. Mostly gossip.”
“Figures,” he mutters. “Small towns always do.”
“Wow.” Subtle. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” Seems Silver Pine is getting lots of visitors today.
He looks reluctant to answer, like admitting it would ruin his street cred. “Passing through.”
“Nobody passes through Silver Pine. You have to mean it to end up here.”
He finally really looks at me. “You always this nosy?”
“Only before nine a.m.,” I say. “After that, I become a delight.”
Desiree calls from behind the counter, “Ruby, stop harassing the customers!”
“Just spreading community spirit!” I shout back.
The man pays for his coffee, and as he walks out, I can’t help calling after him, “Next time, try the lavender latte. It might unclench whatever’s stuck!”
He turns slightly, raises one eyebrow, and says, “Doubtful.”
I grin into my cup. Whoever he is, I’ve just met Silver Pine’s newest grump.
Chapter Seven
Griffin
I step backout into the chill, my coffee breath fogging the air. I’m still regrouping. Clutching my phone, I shudder to think what would have happened if it had hit the café’s parquet floor. My entire life is in this thing.
That woman who crashed into me was different. Mid-to-late forties with a head of wild auburn curls beneath a knit hat with little bear ears. Laugh lines framed her generous mouth. Her gray eyes were bright and open, like she sees the world in softer colors than everyone else.
I unlock my car, grabbing my briefcase just as a woman donning a red hat with a small, feathered bird, approaches me. If forced to guess, I’d put her just shy of seventy. She invades my personal space while eyeing me like I’m prime rib at half price.
“Is that your Jaguar?”
