The woman smiles and takes my hand to shake it. “Liz. I own Cuppa.”
My eyes widen a fraction. “Wow. Your place is amazing.”
Stray wisps of her dark hair flow around her face in the light breeze. Her hair is up in a bun at the back of her head, and she wears an evergreen shirt with long sleeves, back slacks, and black flats. There’s a white apron around her waist and a notepad sticking out of the front pocket.
“Thank you. That means a whole lot to me, truly.” Her smile is so warm and kind, it feels like sunlight radiating from her body. “So, what brings you to Crescent Lake, Adley?”
“My uncle used to run the pet sanctuary north of here. I don’t know if you know of it or knew him. Jim Pepper.”
Those kind eyes grow sad. “I knew Jim. He came here almost every day since I opened some years back. I actually watched someone bond with a couple of his dogs that he was walking right over there.” She gestures to the table beside mine. “He had a gaggle of pups with him, all on leashes, and my friend, Izzy, just took to this mama and baby at first sight. I think they took them home the next day.”
That’s who Jasper mentioned to me when we first met. Adam, too. Part of me hopes I get to meet this Izzy and her dogs.
“I’m so sorry that your uncle passed. He was a great man. Kindest guy I think I ever met.”
My eyes go hot at her words, and I give her a watery smile. “Thank you. I miss him. But I’m carrying on his legacy.”
“That’s wonderful to hear.” She pauses. “If you ever need anything, let me know. And I’m going to put in a good word for you with the owner of the little pet supply store here on Main Street. They’re not the big box store out in the fringes, but L.J., the owner, is really sweet. I think she’s someone you should get to know.”
I perk up at the idea of connecting with more people in town. “Thanks so much. I’ll be sure to check in over there soon.”
Liz peers at my cup on the table. “Is that a vanilla bean latte with caramel foam?”
Eyes wide, I nod in confirmation.
“That’s one of my faves. Have you tried any of our pastries? Our pastry chef, Nathaniel, is the best. And I’m not just saying that because he works for me.” She winks.
With a huff of a laugh, I shake my head. “I haven’t tried any yet, but I absolutely will. I’m a sucker for great coffee and high-calorie pastries. The more calories, the better.”
It’s Liz’s turn to laugh now. “Then Cuppa is right up your alley.” She gestures to my nearly finished latte. “Let’s head inside and have you peruse the goods, hm? It’s a good day for a sample. Or two.”
Smile stretched broad across my face, I finish my last couple sips of delicious latte as we walk back into the cafe. This place is gorgeous and quaint, with coffee bean-colored seats to match the glorious scents moving about the inside. Coffee, tea, and pastry artwork hang all over the walls. A few booths line one side, but it’s mostly tables and chairs, including by the big front-facing windows. The outdoor section in the front doesn’t obscure the view from inside, since it’s set up along the front wall without windows. It’s a courtesy I really liked and noticed immediately.
Liz takes my empty cup from me and puts it in the return bin, then takes the bin with her behind the counter after replacing it with an empty one. She then comes over to stand beside me. She gestures to the pastry cabinets all around the checkout counter.
“What’s your poison?” She stops short and cringes at me. “Poor choice of words. No poison involved.”
With a small giggle, I look at the case and find that, of course, everything looks delicious. Croissants, cookies, cake slices, danishes, strudels—my stomach is going to growl any second.
I look up at the board and see there are prices for variety boxes and smile. “I’m going to take a couple of variety boxes to go. I’ve got some hungry Alphas at the sanctuary.”
Her lips form an O, and she shoots me a knowing grin. “Go, girl.”
I laugh, head shaking, but don’t correct her.
We may not have done anything ofsubstanceyet, but we will. We absolutely will.
Two variety boxes and a bag of freebies later, I grip the handles of the large paper bag and wave goodbye to Liz as I exit Cuppa to make my way back home.
Along the way, I pass a small trinket shop. Right in the window display is some Western gear, and off to one side of it is an array of bronze sheriff badges. One of them is less than an inch in size, and my heart flutters at the sight of it. Tiny and perfect.
I go in and buy the little pin, bringing the delicious scent of pastries into the shop with me, thanking the elderly shop owner before I exit.
I know just the little sheriff to bestow this on.
Chapter Nine
This is wrong, but it’s also so right.
