Stop talking. Stop. Awkward.
But Ezra was smiling. And not condescendingly. “You’re right.”
“And you really don’t mind?”
“You can stop saying that. I go by myself most years; guys my age don’t usually care about it. My brother went with me once, but that was a bust.”
“Oh, why?”
“He’s twenty-seven, but he’s still a baby brother at heart. Has to rib me about stuff like this; it’s part of the gig.” His smirk returned, but it held real warmth.
“I’d like to meet him,” she said. Yikes. Verbal filter offline. Must fix.
“He’s not much of a coffee guy, or you would’ve by now. He does independent contracting, has clients all over town.”
She’d heard of Trevor, if only in passing. Hard to work at the town’s most popular coffee shop andnothear of…well, any and all residents and visitors. When the quiet lasted, she stood up. She should go and hide now, hide and prepare to attend one of her favorite town events with the sexiest man she’d ever seen in real life. Her face heated again.
“Don’t you have fifteen minutes?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Well, it’s only been about five.”
“Oh. Right. Um.” Willow sank back into her chair.
Ezra sipped his drink. His eyes still twinkled. Was he happy? Had her request done that to his eyes, brought on the easy curve of his mouth? Surely not. She was as forgettable as last week’s weather.
“Tell me what you’re building,” she said.
“Oh, I finished the castle.”
“Pics?”
He made an exaggerated palm-to-forehead motion. “Nope.”
She gave a sigh, equally exaggerated. Her break minutes melted away while he described what he called his “new build,” a log cabin, two stories with a chimney and intricate windows. She could see it all as he talked about it. At last she glanced at the giant clock on the wall behind the counter and jumped up.
“Oh, I’ve got to go.”
“When do you want to meet on Friday? Ten or later?”
“Ten’s perfect. I like to get there as they open.”
“Sounds good.”
“You know the red tent on the north end of the parking lot? Let’s meet there.”
He nodded, stood with his empty cup.
“Oh,” Willow said, “let me throw that out for you.”
Not that the café was large. It would cost him only a few steps to the trash can and back to the door. But she was on the clock, and he was a customer.
“Sure, thanks,” he said.
As he handed it to her, their fingers grazed, and an electric jolt zipped up her arm. She stared down at the cup as she hurried across the floor and threw it away.
When she looked up, Ezra stood still, his eyes unfocused.
