“No.” I shook my head, trying to regain my composure. “I mean, yes, for coffee only. We’re not dating, that is.” I was rambling, and my mouth wouldn’t stop saying dumb shit. Taking a breath, I rattled off my order. “Can I get the same? And a napkin. Actually, several napkins. There’s a crime scene by the door.”
The barista gave me a once-over before glancing at the mess by the door. It didn’t take a genius to put together what happened. My stained shirt gave me away.
“Sorry,” I apologized as I paid.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get someone to clean it up. At least it’s not blood like Maddox’s usualmishaps,” she said, tossing Maddox’s choice word back at him. I instantly liked her.
“Christ, Pais, you make me sound like a serial killer,” Maddox replied gruffly, a note of familiarity between them. It was clear they knew each other.
I choked on absolutely nothing at the mention of serial killer, drawing their attention back to me.
“You okay?” Maddox asked, brows bunching together, looking at me weirdly.
I nodded, silently cursing myself.
Maddox stayed to the side of the counter, chatting with the barista while I waited for my drink and tried hard not to stare at where he stood, but my eyes kept drifting, pulled by his presence. There was something about him I found impossible to ignore.
When the drinks were ready, I grabbed both cups and walked back, holding out his iced latte. He took it, fingers brushing mine for half a second. A shiver tiptoed up my arm. “Thanks,” he said. “See you tomorrow, Pais.” He moved to leave but paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder at me. “I never got your name.”
“Mallory Hales.”
“Try not to have any more…mishaps.” His gaze flicked to my chest before he turned.
A shiver rolled through me as I watched him leave. I stood near the counter and sighed. I hadn’t meant for it to be an audible sound, but it must have been because Pais laughed softly behind the counter.
“The Corvos have that effect on the female population. Hell, on all the population. Friendly piece of advice you didn’t ask for, new girl… Maddox isn’t someone you want to get mixed up with.”
Was she warning me because she was jealous? I hadn’t sensed anything but a friendly demeanor between them. It was clear he came to the café often. “What about his brother?”
She leaned her elbows on the glass top, the corner of her lip lifting. “Which one?”
“How many does he have?”
“There are four of them. Raine. Kreed. Mason. And Maddox. But only the twins are at home now. The two oldest are in college.”
“You seem to know a lot about them.”
She shrugged. “When you’ve lived here your whole life, you tend to know everything about everyone. I’ve gone to school with the Corvo twins since kindergarten. Trust me when I tell you they are trouble. The lot of them. Fucking gorgeous to look at, but they break more than hearts.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.” The smart thing to do was to forget this encounter ever happened and never think of Maddox Corvo again.
Too late. I wanted to know more than just his coffee order.
The cottage’sfront door resisted, swollen from humidity. I nudged it open with my hip while balancing my matcha and Mom’s latte melting in my hand. The door unstuck with a reluctant creak, and I shuffled inside, careful not to spill again because I’d reached my humiliation quota for the day.
The smell hit me immediately: citrus cleaner cutting through the mustiness of old wood with an undertone of a candle burning. It was pleasant. I navigated past a tower of boxes and dropped Mom’s drink onto the kitchen counter. She wasn’t picky when it came to coffee as long as it had caffeine in it. The cup left an immediate ring of condensation on the white quartz.
“Well?” Mom’s voice floated from somewhere behind a box. She popped up holding a cast-iron skillet that could double as a murder weapon. “How was it? Up to your standards?”
I shrugged out of my tote bag, letting it slide down my arm onto the counter. “Cute. The matcha was decent. Will definitely go again.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed, gaze dropping from my face to my chest. “What happened to you?” She set the skillet down with a heavy thunk and pointed at the dark stain across my tank top.
I’d forgotten about the state of my shirt. Rolling my eyes, I replied, “My fault.” I busied myself peeling the paper wrapper off her straw, rolling it into a tiny tube between my fingers. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. And bam. Iced coffee everywhere. Very tragic. Extremely humiliating. But don’t worry, I bought him a new one.”
“Him?”
Damn it.
