"Just trying to figure you out."
He snorts, his eyes twinkling. "Good luck with that." But there's no edge to his words, only a hint of amusement. "I've been trying to figure you out since we were kids."
Something flutters in my chest at those words. I ignore it.
He snags the other burritos and gives me a nod. "I’ll be back in a couple hours with the blends." Before I can respond, he's already heading for the door, Admiral trotting alongside him like they're old friends. Which, I suppose, they are.
"Later," he says over his shoulder. And then he's gone, the door swinging shut, leaving Admiral staring after him and me with my thoughts and a half-empty carafe of excellent coffee.
Tommy emerges from the back. "Well. That was surprisingly civilized."
I shrug. "We’re not neanderthals, Tommy. We can be professional."
"Uh-huh. Is that why you're smiling?"
"I'm not smiling."
"You totally are. You've got that weird look you get when you're pleased about something but don't want to admit it."
I force my expression into a neutral mask, going for nonchalant. "I'm relieved we have a plan. That's all. We just might pull this off."
"Sure." Tommy grins. "A plan. That's definitely what that was about."
I throw a dish towel at his head. He catches it, laughing, and disappears back into the production room.
I slide onto a barstool and stare out the window. Admiral trots over, nudging his head under my hand, and I scratch behind his ears the way Wyatt did. "What do you think, Admiral?" I ask softly. "Can I actually work with Wyatt Dalton without losing my mind?"
Admiral huffs and closes his eyes, which I choose to interpret as a yes.
This collaboration will either be brilliant or a total catastrophe. Knowing us? It’ll probably be both.
Chapter 5
Wyatt
The roasting drum spins steadily, the beans tumbling inside with their familiar crack and pop. Green eventually transforms to golden brown while the scent builds, becoming earthy and complex, citrus combining with those caramel notes I’m looking for.
It's Saturday morning, which means I should be knee-deep in weekend orders, but all I can think about is the fact that in an hour, I'll be sitting next to Merri Gallagher, tasting her beer infused with my coffee.
As requested, I dropped off the different blends of coffee grounds five days ago. Each one was roasted to perfection and sealed in airtight containers with detailed notes about origin, roast level, and flavor profile. I'd given them to Merri with the formality of a military handoff, and she'd taken them with the same gravity.
When we notified Ms. Mitchell and Mayor Snyder that we'd accepted the challenge, the mayor had been delighted, while Ms. Mitchell seemed amused, as if she knew something we didn't. I'm trying not to think too hard about what that might be.
What's really throwing me off is how quiet and unusually peaceful this week has been. Normally, by this point, I'd beplotting my next prank or dealing with the fallout from whatever Merri had launched my way.
But I haven't done anything and it feels weird. We’ve been at each other’s throats for as long as I can remember and now, suddenly, we're working together? It's kinda like watching a nature documentary about predators and prey living side-by-side.
Will they kill each other? Will they actually get along? Stay tuned to find out.
It's disturbingly peaceful. And the strange part is that I actually enjoy it. I hadn’t realized how much time, effort, and brain-space I spent on this “war” with Merri.
The timer on the roaster beeps, pulling me back to the present. I kill the heat and trigger the cooling cycle, watching the beans tumble into the cooling tray. It’s the perfect light roast that would work beautifully with Merri's blonde ale. At least, that was my theory when I selected this particular Central American blend as one of my choices.
I guess we'll find out soon enough if I’m right.
I check my watch again. 11:47 AM. Thirteen minutes until I'm supposed to be next door, blind-tasting our coffee beers and trying to act like a normal person.
The thing is, I’ve always been attracted to Merri. Even back in school when I was too much of a dumbass to do anything about it except pick on her. Besides, she was Danny's little sister, which meant she was off-limits. So I dealt with my inconvenient feelings by being a jerk.
