Page 41 of Flirty Fall Fling

I pour some kibble into his bowl. He smells it, then walks away.

“Snubbed,” Winter mutters.

“Okay, well, I think I need real coffee that’s not going to fuck me up until lunchtime,” I say. “Meet you at the shop at ten?”

They both nod, and I find my escape.

Roasted Bean at eight thirty is full of regulars. Doris Jean sits at her table by the front window like she owns it, surrounded by the usual suspects. The Birds, Flora used to call them, because they’d be perched at that window every morning. Nothing moves on Main Street without them seeing it. As soon as I enter, Doris Jean pops her head up and waves at me.

Considering I was one of the best baristas in Cozy Creek, I should buy an espresso machine and make lattes at home. I make a mental note.

My eyes scan over the list of seasonal drinks. Pumpkin marshmallow and toasted chestnut latte, caramel mocha, salted caramel apple cider, cranberry orange steamer, and the list goes on and on. I’m actually impressed by the seasonal menu.

After ten minutes of waiting, I order a cinnamon maple macchiato, hoping it tastes okay. As I step to the edge of the counter, the energy in the room changes. A prickle races up my spine, and I turn to see him stepping inside the shop. Our eyes meet, and I see a ghost of a smile play on his perfect lips. He’s wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap, looking overly casual for who he is.

I focus back on the counter, hoping my coffee comes out before Doris Jean sniffs us out. My aunt and all her friends were nosy Nancys, always in the town’s business and never afraid of playing matchmaker.

He orders and moves to the waiting area where I am, but not too close. It’s the exact distance two strangers would stand from one another.

“Morning,” he says with a little dip of his chin.

“Good morning.”

Our eyes meet, and it causes my heart to flutter. I glance away.

“Blaire,” the barista says, sliding my coffee toward me.

I smile and offer a thank-you.

“Black coffee for Jamie,” the other barista calls out, setting the drink on the counter next to mine.

Of course, he ordered the most boring drink in the world. He steps up for it at the same time, and we do the polite shuffle of two strangers trying to move around one another.

He smirks and offers his hand out. “After you.”

“Thanks,” I tell him, feeling my cheeks heat.

He’s behind me. “Were you judging my order?”

I glance at him over my shoulder. “Actually, yes.”

“Yoo-hoo! Blaire, honey!” Doris Jean waves me over before he can say anything else.

The entire table of women swings their heads my way. There’s no way I can escape the coffee shop without talking to them, so I walk over with my macchiato in hand.

“Good morning, ladies,” I say with a smile. “Up to the usual?”

“We were just talking about you,” Doris Jean says, which is never a sentence I enjoy. Then her eyes slide right past me. “Oh! Jamie! Come here a second, sweetheart.”

The smile I was wearing slightly fades. Doris Jean knows his name. I hope he keeps walking. Any man with an inkling of self-preservation would. Instead, he strolls over with his boring black coffee like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

“I’ve been wanting to introduce you two. I met this fine young man at the grocery store the other day,” Doris Jean says, glancing at him with way too much enthusiasm. “The first person I thought of was you, Blaire.”

I nearly choke on the sip of coffee I’m drinking. “Oh, Doris Jean. Please.”

She gives me a wink. “Jamie, this is Blaire, one of the finest witches in the Southwest. Blaire, this is Jamie. He does charity work for children and lives in New York. You two should get to know one another. Have dinner. He’s in town until November.”

Jamie politely grins. “Hi, Blaire. It’s very nice to meet you.”