Ephram cleared his throat. “I should probably apologize.”
“For what?”
“For nearly letting you be taken down by a dog named Atlas. I should have intervened sooner.”
I stopped walking and looked at him. “You did intervene. You slipped in the mud, too.”
We stood there for a second, neither of us quite ready to leave.
“Lydia,” he said, then paused, as if recalibrating. “Would you like to get coffee?”
I blinked.“Coffee.”
“As a thank you,” he added quickly. “For your help. And your expertise. And your… patience.”
I glanced down at my coat. “I’m filthy.”
“So am I.”
I looked up at him again, really looked. The mud. The loosened collar. The faint flush still in his cheeks. He didn’t look like Sergeant North right now. He looked like a man who had laughed in the mud and meant the invitation.
“I know just the place,” I said.
Lattes & Laughter was busy when we walked in, the bell over the door chiming cheerfully as if we were not tracking half the outdoors with us. Conversations dipped, then resumed, though I felt more than a few curious glances follow us toward the counter.
Charlotte looked up from the espresso machine and froze.
Her eyes flicked from my boots to Ephram’s trousers to another twig still stubbornly lodged in my hair.
“Oh,” she said. “You’ve been… camping.”
“Dog walking,” I said.
Her eyebrows climbed. “Naturally. What can I get you?”
He hesitated, looking at the menu like it was written in code.
I stepped in. “He’ll have a coffee. Black. And I’ll take my usual.”
Charlotte’s eyes sparkled. “Of course you will.”
We found a table near the window, shedding coats and towels, leaving a small pile of evidence behind us.
Our drinks arrived, steam rising between us, and for a moment we simply sat there, hands warming around cups,.
“Thank you,” Ephram said again, softer now. “For today. I know this wasn’t what you signed up for.”
“It kind of was,” I said. “Helping people figure things out is my unofficial specialty.”
He studied me over the rim of his cup. “Is that what you’re doing?”
I considered it. “Maybe. I just graduated college and am helping out my parents right now.”
“What are you going to do after you’re finished helping them?” he wondered.
“I don’t really know. But as long as I’m happy, I figure I’m doing okay,” I mused. “I suppose you have a plan for your life?”
“I do but I’m finding that sometimes a little spontaneity isn’t a bad thing,” Ephram observed.
