Page 19 of Then Came You
They wandered into the coffee shop, where a few customers still lingered, mostly at the tables near the front windows, those being the best seats in the house for people-watching.
“I have to get going,” he said.
She thought he sounded disappointed, though she might have been imagining it.
“What about your cookie?”
“Not that I really need it, but I’ll take one to go.”
She slid behind the coffee counter and bagged a peanut butter cookie even though there were others to choose from. Then she caught herself. “Oh. I guess I just assumed…”
“You assumed correctly.”
She carefully handed it to him so their fingers wouldn’t touch. “Do you want a coffee to go with it?”
“No thanks. I’ve had enough for today.”
She wasn’t sure why she was delaying him from leaving. Usually, she couldn’t wait to get rid of him.
“Well, thanks again for reading. Everyone really seemed to enjoy it.”
“I enjoyed it too.”
“I’m glad.” And she was. Somehow she felt like she still owed him, regardless of how many free coffees she’d given him over time. But for now, free coffee and pastries were all she had to offer.
“I guess I’ll see you, then.”
She nodded. “Yep. See you around.”
She watched him walk out, as did almost everyone else who was still seated in the coffee shop, and decided Savannah was right. The man filled out his uniform like nobody’s business, and it certainly shouldn’t be any business of hers.
Chapter 8
Two weeks had passed since Sam had been a guest reader at A Latte Books, and he’d barely seen Gillian. He’d gone into the coffee shop one morning and been greeted by a sweet older woman named Doreen, who, she’d informed him, had just been hired. Doreen treated him like royalty every time he’d come in, but he’d discovered he didn’t want to be treated like a king. He preferred to be waited on by the feisty brunette who treated him like a regular guy—well, sort of.
During the brief interactions they’d had, Gillian had been friendly yet still reserved, and they hadn’t exchanged more than a few sentences. To admit he was disappointed would have been an understatement.
Now he was sitting at The Red Devil, a popular pizza place in downtown Holly, conversing with Kristina. She was harassing him to be more accurate.
“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Kristina said in between bites of a giant garlic breadstick.
“No.”
“You don’t even know who it is.”
“It’s some friend of yours from work or the gym, and the answer is still no.”
“Why not?”
“I’m too busy to date.”
“Bullcrap.” Kristina hated to swear, so she used milder versions of common swear words.
“Nobody wants to date a cop anyway. They just think they do.”
Kristina shook her head, swishing her long, dark hair back and forth. “I showed her your picture, and she thought you were hot.”
“Did you tell her what I do for a living?”
