“Call me anytime.”
They climbed into his truck, and Ms. Riley waved as Jake backed out of the driveway.
“You left the money on the counter, didn’t you?” Emily asked.
“Of course I did.” He steered down the road toward town.
Emily smiled. Jake was definitely one of the good ones.
“What was she whispering to you about when you got to the porch?”
“Oh, nothing.” She shrugged. “Just girl stuff.”
His blond eyebrows lifted. “What kind of girl stuff?”
“It’s a secret. If I tell you, then I’ll have to kill you, and I don’t want to mess up your cool truck.” She ran her hand over the dash.
He snorted and shook his head. “Whatever, Carmichael.”
Emily settled back in the seat and tried to ignore how her stomach danced every time she imagined being Jake’s girlfriend. She had to let that dream die.
If only she could convince her heart.
Chapter 3
The delicious scent of coffee drifted over Jake as he pushed open the door to the Coffee Bean and held it open for Emily. The bell above them announced their presence, and the shop was buzzing with activity as customers sat at the tables or in booths enjoying their drinks and pastries. A few others stood in line at the counter, where Ava Burns, an acquaintance from high school, and her younger sister, Brooklyn, took and filled their orders.
Jake had heard that the sisters’ dream of establishing this little shop had come true approximately five years ago when their father, a judge in their district, loaned them the money. It had quickly taken off and was known for being one of the most successful coffee shops for miles. A review from the local newspaper was framed and hung in a prominent place on a wall, raving that the Coffee Bean was far above the quality of the chain coffee shops in the area.
Emily waved to Ava behind the counter as she took her place next to Jake in line.
“Are you going to have your usual—lots of cream and sugar with a dash of coffee?” he asked.
“Yup.” She adjusted her huge bag, which she called her purse, on her shoulder and glanced around the shop.
“Why don’t you find a table, and I’ll bring the coffee?” he asked.
“Sure thing.” She gave him a mock salute and then hurried over to claim a booth in the far corner.
“Hey, Jake,” Ava said when he got to the front of the line. “How are things at the orchard?”
“Fine. The season is about to start.” He drew his wallet from his back pocket. “I see you’re staying busy. How’s Dylan’s shop doing?” he asked. Ava’s husband, Dylan, had also graduated with them and ran Burns Auto Repair with his father and brother.
“Good. Busy. What can I get ya?”
“I’ll take an americano and a regular coffee,” he said.
Ava rang him up, and he swiped his card before moving to the end of the counter, where Brooklyn was filling orders. Jake reclined against the wall and peered across the shop to where Emily sat in a booth, hunched over the table with a pen poised in her right hand while she doodled on a napkin. He grinned. Typical Em. Drawing was second nature to her, which was why he never understood why she quit teaching art to sling coffee cups all day long.
“Jake, how’s your dad doing?”
He turned as Mrs. Smith, the owner of the Flower Shoppe across the street, moved to stand beside him. “Doing better. Thanks.”
“I’m so glad to hear it.” She pushed her pink glasses farther up on her long, thin nose. “I heard he had a massive heart attack, and I was thinking of him. That’s so stressful.”
“Yeah.” She could say that again.
“I guess the orchard is getting ready to open, huh?” she asked, and he nodded. “What do you think about the McClain orchard selling out to a big company?”
