Polly opened her mouth to say something but froze, looking at something over Maggie’s shoulder.
Maggie turned—and a silent gasp dropped from her lips.
Connor stepped in first, followed by Joel.
And then Ethan.
Her lungs did that thing where they constricted, and it felt like she might never take a full breath again.
Under the table, Polly squeezed her thigh before rising. “Hi. Welcome to Bloom.”
Ethan smiled. “Hi, Polly, it’s good to see you. This is Joel and Connor.”
His deep, rich voice slid over her skin.
Do not get affected.
But it was pointless. She was affected. Always had been.
“You boys gonna make sure no more tourists go missing near our river?” Polly asked.
Connor dipped his head. “We’ll try.”
Joel seemed to take in the shop. “Is this a café or a florist or a bookstore?”
“All three.”
He nodded. “Huh. Not very busy today.”
Oh no.
Polly stiffened. “We’re usually the busiest breakfast spot in town.”
“I saw everyone at the pancake place.” He shot Ethan a glance. “I wanted to go but the guys wanted to come here.”
The veins in Polly’s neck popped. “Basil drops eggshell into his pancakes. You’re better off here.”
Joel frowned. “Then why are so many people there?”
“You want a coffee or not?” she nearly barked.
As the two of them continued to talk—or squabble—Maggie shoved her laptop into her bag beneath the table. Mostly because she was trying to keep herself busy to stop from looking at Ethan. Just because she wasn’t looking at him though, didn’t mean she couldn’t feel his gaze.
She could. It zinged straight into her, making her skin tingle.
She rummaged around the bag like she was looking for something. She wasn’t. There was barely anything in it. AChapStick. A phone cable. A half-eaten granola bar, which Polly had yanked from her hand the second she’d stepped into Bloom before replacing it with a chocolate croissant.
“Hey, Mags.”
She shot up and her head hit the side of the table.
Ouch.
Ethan dropped beside her and touched her head. “Are you okay?”
She stilled. All of her. Even her chest stopped moving. He was touching her head. Grazing the spot she’d hit like she was still his.
She shifted back. “I’m fine.” If fine meant hot, bothered, and completely overwhelmed by a man who wasn’t hers.
