I grab a cloth and start wiping down the counter, despite the fact I saw Marisol do it not long ago. Her knowing gaze makes me twitchy, and I need to do something to keep my hands busy. “You got that from the thirty seconds you spoke to him?”
She tilts her head, giving me an enigmatic smile. “Sometimes you just know. You know?” Her attention is across the room now, eyes trained on Jasper. “I imagine it would take someone pretty special to help peel back those layers.”
“What if he’s happy with his layers the way they are?”
Marisol’s lips twitch. “I know you saw that far-off look in his eyes. It’s often true what they say about still waters running deep.”
I want to make a joke about her mixing metaphors—is Jasper an onion or is he a lake?—but her words, paired with what Gwen has told me about her soon-to-be brother-in-law, have me thinking she’s right. It also makes me wonder if Marisol is in on Gwen’s matchmaking scheme and if my two best friends are about to tag-team me.
Before I can say anything, a group of teens come into the café, and I get to work making them the pumpkin spice lattes they order. An unexpected rush follows, keeping me occupied for the next half hour. It seems my social media posts are paying off; at least a quarter of the people who come in mention the discount I posted in our stories. I make a mental note to tell Gwen and Ivy they’re not the only PR mavens around here anymore.
While I’m working, my eyes have a mind of their own and keep shifting to the table where Gwen and the Perrys are sitting. I initially tell myself it’s because Gwen and Evan are my friends and I want to make sure they have everything they need. I can’t deny the real reason, though: there’s something about Jasper that fascinates me. Marisol’s words about layers and water tumble through my brain every time I see him speaking quietly to Gwen or fussing over Sherée, who seems to enjoy the attention.
At the next lull in customers, Gwen comes to the counter to order another round of drinks.
“Seems like you haven’t had to play referee for a while,” I say.
“Everyone’s been playing nicely,” she says with a good-natured eye roll.
“Well, just in case you’re the one keeping everyone on their best behavior, why don’t you go back and I’ll bring the drinks when they’re ready.”
A few minutes later, I make my way to the table with a loaded tray. I slow my approach when I see Malcolm’s stormy expression from earlier has returned. Sherée is laughing at whatever Jasper just said as she shifts in her seat and attempts to get to her feet. Jasper immediately hops up and reaches for her arm.
Malcolm shoves his chair back from the table and stands. “Dude, will you back off? She’smywife, not yours.”
A hush descends over the café as everyone freezes. It’s like one of those bizarre still-life tableaus. I’m relieved none of the table’s occupants have noticed me hovering a few feet away with my tray because second-hand embarrassment is making heat creep up my cheeks.
Sherée is the one to break the silence. “Malcolm Joseph Perry, what the hell has gotten into you?” She never did make it to her feet before, so she grasps Jasper’s hand now—he’s still frozen in place beside her—and hauls herself up with an exasperated sigh. “Malcolm and I need some air. We’ll be back.” She turns and gives her husband a shove toward the door. I know it shouldn’t be funny, but Sherée’s feistiness paired with Malcolm’s chastened expression has me swallowing laughter.
I proceed toward the table, where I set the tray down wordlessly. No one says anything as I unload the drinks. Jasper blinks a few times before sinking into his seat. He looks as if he’d like to keep going until he’s all the way under the table.
I’m about to tuck the tray under my arm and flee when Evan says, “You know how some people joke about things like sympathy pains and partners gaining weight when their wives or girlfriends are pregnant? I think Malcolm has a case of sympathy hormones.”
Gwen and I laugh. When Jasper’s gaze remains distant, Evan reaches out and claps him on the shoulder. “He’s tense and he’s taking it out on you because he knows you’re a safe space and will love him no matter what.”
Jasper looks surprised by this. Hell,I’msurprised by this. Gwen has always said one of things she loves most about Evan is how in tune he is with his emotions and the feelings of others, and she wasn’t kidding.
I peek toward the front window. Malcolm and Sherée are standing just outside. She has her arms folded under her breasts and seems to be doing all the talking while he bobs his head and rubs her belly with one hand. When he finally speaks, Sherée laughs and drops her arms to wrap them around him. Their brief hug is followed by a kiss. And another kiss. And…oh my, they’re really going for it. Watching them makes me feel like a voyeur, so I pry my eyes away and hope no parents pass by with little kids.
The pair come back inside a few minutes later, both of them flushed from the chilly air and likely from their quick round of tonsil hockey. Sherée veers off toward the bathrooms while Malcolm returns to the table, sitting in his wife’s former seat next to Jasper.
“I’m sorry,” Jasper says quickly. “I know I’ve been overstepping and I didn’t mean—”
Malcolm holds up a hand to cut him off. “I’mthe one who’s sorry. I know it’s been nine months and the baby is nearly due, but part of me is still in shock. I’m about to become a father, which is so surreal. I’ve been missing Mom and Dad lately, and wishing they were here for the birth of their first grandchild. Wishing they were here because they always knew the exact right thing to say.”
Emotion clogs my throat. I feel even more like a voyeur now than I did a few moments ago watching Malcolm and Sherée. Catching Gwen’s attention, I tilt my head toward the counter and quietly slip away. I’m refilling the bakery case a few minutes later when a loud thumping sound draws my attention back to the Perrys’ table.
Malcolm and Jasper are embracing; Malcolm is holding on tight while Jasper’s arms loosely encircle his brother. Malcolm laughs and gives Jasper another thump on the back. “We’ve been over this. I’m expressing my love for you, not trying to extract one of your kidneys with a teaspoon. Hug me back properly.”
I can’t see Jasper’s face, but I hear his soft laugh. Some ridiculous, irrational part of my brain wants to run over to see his expression. My heart turns to warm, melty goo as he wraps his arms around Malcolm tighter and the two of them hug for a long moment, speaking quietly to each other.
My gaze shifts around the table and locks on Gwen’s. She’s watching me instead of the two brothers. Her smile is small and knowing, and it makes me want to slink down behind the counter where she can’t see me. Even if I did, I’m afraid there’d be no escaping this spark of interest toward Jasper that’s lit itself inside me.
