“I was asking what you were up to when you spaced out on me.”
“Sorry,” I say through an exaggerated yawn. “I had an early morning. I’ve been doing some Christmas shopping, but I was just about to stop for a coffee.”
“Actually, I was about to do the same.” He gestures toward the entrance of the coffee shop. “Up for some company? My treat.”
I hesitate for a moment, shifting my bags from one hand to the other. It’s just coffee. It’s not like it’s a date or anything.
“Sure, why not?” I say.
“Great.” He bounds for the door and holds it open for me. “After you.”
“Thank you,” I say, crossing the threshold. The warmth of the coffee shop wraps around me like a hug.
“What do you like to get?” he asks as we join the small line in front of the cashier.
“My favorite is the ‘It’s Always Fall Somewhere.’”
“I don’t know what that is. All I know is, I have to have it.” He rubs his palms together and glances around the crowded cafe. “Want to grab us a table while I order?”
“Sure.” My arm brushes his as I pass by. Goose bumps pebble my skin, and I’m thankful the sweater I’m wearing conceals the flush I feel rising up my neck.
I maneuver around the tables and other patrons and slip onto the worn leather bench of a vacant booth. The Southern Bean has a cozy, rustic vibe with tables made from reclaimed wood and paintings for sale by local artists hanging on the walls. Soft music plays in the background, punctuated by the sounds of laughter and flatware clinking against ceramic plates.
It’s not long before Oliver catches my eye and smiles as he starts toward me with our coffees in hand. He places one in front of me, then slides into the other side of the booth.
“This place is great,” he says, glancing around the cozy space.
“You haven’t been here before?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve really only just gotten settled in. The only place I’ve seen besides my house is the inside of the fire hall and the Food Saver. And the vet’s office, of course.”
“Where did you move from?”
“Canton, Texas. It’s a small town outside Dallas,” he answers with his smooth southern lilt.
“Wow, Texas. What brought you all the way to Tennessee? To Loving, no less.”
“I needed a change of scenery.” He picks at the coffee sleeve with his finger. “I used to spend my summers here as a kid.”
“Here, as in, Loving?”
He nods. “My grandfather had a little cottage behind Bowie Park.”
“I wonder if we ever crossed paths before.”
“We might have. Did you go to Bowie much growing up?”
“Only all the time,” I answer. “My dad and I rode our bikes on the trail around the lake a lot.”
“My grandpa used to take me fishing there,” he says.
“What else did you do when you visited? Did you go to any of the town events like the Founders Day parade or Nature Fest?”
“My grandfather wasn’t one for crowds, so we spent a lot of time in his woodshop. He was a brilliant carpenter.”
“Did he ever teach you how to make anything?”
“He taught me a thing or two, but I’m nowhere near as good as he was.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “What about you? Do you have any hobbies or secret talents you care to share? Can you solve a Rubik's Cube in less than sixty seconds? Or do the moonwalk?”
