“NowthatI have noticed, Autumn.”
I shuffled around in my chair so I could look at him. “What can I say? I’m sure you have a charming smile, Ross. Sue me for being curious to see it.”
He pressed his lips together as if determinednotto smile.
“See? That wasn’t too hard.” I nudged him with my elbow. “Okay, so we need to practice, what? Interactions with customers? Reading social cues? Small talk? Selling?”
“All of the above,” Ross said.
“Alright. Come with me.”
“Now?” he asked but followed me back into his workshop.
“Of course we’re starting now. That’s why I’m here.” I stepped behind his work bench and pushed a packet of coffee closer to him. “Just pretend I’m a cafe owner, you found my place on KrakenMaps, and now you’ve come by and you want to sell me your coffee.”
Ross stared at me for a long pregnant pause.
“You can do this,” I told him with an encouraging wink.
Ross grabbed the coffee bag like a life buoy I’d tossed him after he’d gone overboard. Then he struggled through his sales pitch. He was adorably awkward and over-explained his roasting process.
“You’re doing great, Ross. Tell me where you get your beans from, perhaps?”
“Oh. Oh, yes.” He went off explaining how he’d researched and written very in-depth software to find the perfect coffee bean farmer. He told me how they lived and had exclusive contracts and how much trial and error it had taken him to find the perfect time to roast the beans.
Please don’t suggest I sit by and watch the roasting process before I buy a bag.
“Okay, Mr Graham, that sounds absolutely perfect. Maybe you could offer me a cup of coffee?” I pushed the cup into his hand, and our fingers brushed and he took them into his hand. He sank into my eyes and didn’t let go of me. On the contrary, he brushed his thumb over my knuckles, sending rather violent goosebumps down my neck and back. I took a shuddering breath as the air between us thickened.
Somehow his intent stare made my own breath come short. “Okay, I’ll take a bag,” I gasped, and Ross, realising that he was holding onto my hand, let go as if he’d burned himself.
Holy shit, what are you doing to me, Mr Graham?
“Right,” he stammered and hastily retreated out of my personal space.
“I think I’ll have to go now.” I cleared my throat. “Let’s maybe repeat this on the weekend?”
“Yes, okay. What are your plans?”
Sunday arrived warmer than I expected and I only took a cardigan with me as I left the house. I biked to Crumb & Get It, a small bakery near my place, got my favourite treats, and then made my way halfway across Kirkmuir to Ross’ place.
He lived in a bright and cosy cottage and greeted me on my first ring. I was sure he’d waited behind his front door for me to turn up. Perhaps he hadn’t quite believed me when I’d suggested I’d come over on the weekend so we could practice some more.
Bless his heart.
His russet hair was pulled back in a messy bun and he wore a creamy white henley with the buttons open and the ridge between his pecs exposed. This time I was sure he’d polished his horns. They gleamed in the sunlight that streamed in through the windows.
Hello, Sir! Your horns are so shiny, I love it.
“Hi!” I said once he waved me inside. I pushed the paper bag into his hand and balanced on each foot so I could take my heeled boots off. “I brought pastries.”
Everything about him screamed flustered as that perfect shaggy red mountain of a Minotaur led the way into his kitchen.
“Oh, wow! I love your place.”
“Thanks,” he muttered. “Coffee?”
“Yes please, and then let’s get to business.”
