She grabbed two mugs from the shelf and lined them up neatly on the counter. “Our honey latte is the most popular drink on the menu, so let’s start there.”
“Got it.”
“Step one, add a bit of honey to the mug.”
Joe moved closer, watching the sunlight catch on the amber ribbon.
As she glanced up, their eyes met. Joe saw the warmth of summer in their green and golden depths, dragging him under like a pool full of honey.
“Okay,” Krista said quickly, clearing her throat. “Step two. Espresso.”
“Should I start the campfire?” Joe joked while Krista filled the portafilter.
“Ha, honestly, I bet the locals would love your cowboy coffee.”
Once they added the espresso to the mugs it was time for the next step.
“Now we heat the milk,” Krista explained.
He followed her directions with the steamers, though his attention wandered, drawn to the faint trace of citrus and vanilla on her skin.
“You better pay attention, cowboy. The milk’s about to scald.”
He turned quickly, laughing under his breath. “Sorry.”
Krista reached past him to adjust the temperature, her arm brushing his. “You’re doing fine,” she murmured.
He was hyper conscious of everything from the low hum of the radio to the gentle lap of water outside. The scent of honey and espresso thick in the air. Most of all, her voice, her warmth, her nearness.
“Okay,” she said, stepping back with a smile, “now slowly pour the milk in so it mixes with the espresso and honey.”
“Alright.” Joe followed her instructions. “Is that everything?”
“Almost. When I’m not too busy, I do a little bumblebee design on top with the syrup. Like this…” Krista demonstrated how she made the miniature bee, complete with wings and stripes. “Voilà!”
“Yeah, think I’ll skip that step for now.”
“You’re right. Maybe that’s an advanced class,” Krista said with a laugh, lifting the mug and handing it to him.
“To swapping lives,” she added, raising hers in a toast.
“To the Summer Swap,” Joe agreed, tapping his cup lightly against hers before taking a sip.
“What do you think?” she asked, watching him closely.
He swallowed. “Well, it’s no cowboy coffee, but it’ll work in a pinch.” His grin gave him away. It was, of course, delicious.
Joe watched her, wondering what she was thinking, wondering if she knew how much space she’d begun to take up in his mind.
“You know,” she said after a beat, “we should create a boozy version of this. Maybe with vanilla vodka, and serve it over ice…or even over ice cream?”
Joe chuckled. “Whatever you want to try, I’m game.”
She glanced at him then, her eyes warm but serious. “Well, speaking of which—I’ve been thinking about what you said last night. About helping me look into my great-grandma Isabel going missing. Were you serious about that?”
Joe straightened. “Absolutely,” he said. “I’m always on the lookout for an interesting story.”
Krista’s expression turned cautious. “Hang on, cowboy. Before we agree to anything, I want you to promise you won’t publish anything about her without running it by me first. This isn’t some story—it’s my family. I just want to know why Isabel disappeared, and why no one’s talked about it all these years.”
