“I brought caffeine,” he announces, then stops when he sees my face. “What?”
“Nothing. You’re wearing jeans.”
“I own jeans.”
“Since when?”
“Since approximately fifteen years ago when I purchased them at a store, like a normal person.” He sets the coffee tray on the counter. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown a second head?”
“I’ve just never seen you dressed like a human before.”
“As opposed to?”
“A very stressed robot who irons his pajamas.”
Caroline makes a sound that might be a laugh or might be a choke. Scott’s mouth twitches.
“For your information,” he says, “I dress casually on weekends. I also eat food, sleep in a bed, and occasionally experience emotions, though I try to keep those to a minimum.”
“How restrained of you.”
“Thank you.” He slides a cup toward me. “Oat milk, alarming amount of vanilla syrup. Michelle’s words, not mine.”
“It’s not alarming.”
“She used the phrase ‘genuinely concerning.’ I’m paraphrasing.”
I take the coffee because I’m not an idiot, and also because I don’t know what to do with Scott Avery being thoughtful while wearing jeans like some kind of cozy ambush.
“Thank you,” I manage.
“You’re welcome.” He looks around the shop, taking in the summer reading display I set up last week—beach reads piled in a vintage rowboat I found at a yard sale, complete with a hand-painted sign that says “Get Lost at Sea (Metaphorically).”
“You put books in a boat,” he says.
“It’s thematic.”
“It’s a fire hazard.”
“It’swhimsical.”
“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.” But he’s almost smiling. “Where are we setting up?”
“Back table. Try not to critique my decor on the way there.”
“I wasn’t critiquing. I was observing.” He pauses at the shelf nearest the boat, where I’ve displayed my favorite summer romances. “You have a whole section labeled ‘Morally Ambiguous Love Interests.’”
“It’s a popular subcategory.”
“There’s a sign that says ‘He’s problematic, but he’s pretty.’”
“Hey, it’s true.”
Scott makes a sound that might be a laugh. It’s surprising enough that I almost drop my coffee.
“Did you just find me funny?”
“I find you amusing on occasion.” He says it like it’s a confession. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
