One
Thebiggestflawinher plan: it required an extrovert to pull it off. Oh, and being less awkward would help too. Willow could pretend to be an extrovert for an approximate maximum of three minutes. To be less awkward, well, that was a non-starter. So her plan was garbage, but she had to go ahead with it anyway.
For the last two Wednesdays, she’d chickened out. Made his favorite iced latte and handed it over with a smile and brief conversation—his day, her day, and of course their hobbies. Willow told him how she’d discovered the birth certificate of a long-estranged cousin of her great-great-grandfather, and he described the model castle he was working on, the moat and forest he would construct to surround it. She asked to see pictures, but he never remembered to take any.
Now it was Wednesday again, and this was it. She wouldn’t see him again before the weekend. She could make the boldest request of her life, or she could prove herself a coward and deal with the consequences. Wow, it sounded dramatic from inside her own head, as if she were headed for a guillotine rather than an arts-and-crafts fair.
She was restocking paper cups and straws at the front when Molly leaned in and said, “So we’ve lost a Harmony Ridge bachelor. Did you hear?”
“Oh?” Willow kept her hands busy, though her nonverbalgossip isn’t my thingcues never fazed her fellow barista. She was intended to guess or at least ask, but her failure to do so never fazed Molly either.
“Yeah, one of the township guys who come in here. I think it’s the civil projects guy.”
Willow’s stomach tightened. She kept her head down, counted straws or pretended to. “Ezra.”
“Kayla said it was a super private wedding, and he and the girl were together back in high school or something. Of course the wedding was out at the commune.”
Willow huffed. “It’s not a commune.”
“Sure it is. All isolated and stuff.”
“If they’re isolated, why do we see multiple guys who live out there in town at least once a week?”
“Um…well, they’ve got to make a living?”
Willow balanced a stack of plastic cup lids and set it into its place beside the stack of cups. “They also come here and get coffee. Aren’t commune people not allowed to do stuff like that?”
“Oh, who knows?” Molly shrugged. “Anyway that’s all I’ve got. That and his name’s Sterling.”
There were two Sterling brothers, but only one of them worked for the township of Harmony Ridge. She drew a deep breath and released a silent sigh. Her plan was now garbage for yet another reason, and this one was…well, final.
The bell rang above the door, and she lifted her head, a reflex to see whom she was about to serve and what sort of mood she could read. If she were about to be snapped at, best to know ahead of time, prepare her inner defenses.
Oh, shoot. Her disappointment had conjured him.
Into the coffee shop strode three men, two white and one black, each well over six feet tall and built like a professional wrestler. Aaron Reed—wavy dark hair and a ready smile. Cassius Hill—mid-length Afro and a quiet reserve. Both were more attractive than average yet barely registered on Willow’s radar, not only because both were married but also because they almost always showed up with the friend who currently trailed in a few yards behind them.
Ezra Sterling. The most attractive man Willow had ever seen.
“Hey, Willow. Hey, Molly.” Of course Aaron was grinning.
Cassius gave a polite nod and a smile.
Behind them Ezra stood waiting his turn, letting his buddies order first.
“Guys,” Molly said. “What can we get you?”
“Grande peppermint mocha,” Aaron said. “No, wait, peppermint with white chocolate.”
Cassius grimaced. “There’s no way you can taste the coffee.”
“Sure I can.”
“Guess what, coffee and chocolate don’t taste the same.”
Molly giggled. “And for you, let me guess, a macchiato?”
“You know it,” Cassius said.
