“Nothing happened.”
“Sam.” Maya crossed her arms. “You hugged someone yesterday. I can tell.”
Heat crept up Sam’s neck. “How could you possibly…”
“You have that soft and distracted look.” She grinned. “So who was it?The red-haired one who drank six coffees? The scary hot one in the expensive suits? Or the tall gardener who brought you vegetables at dawn like some kind of cottage core fantasy?”
“Urien.” Sam adjusted his glasses, abandoning any pretense of making coffee. The shop was empty anyway - Monday morning lulls were predictable. “He invited me to see the garden he planted in the park. He finished the whole thing in three days, and it was…”
He trailed off, remembering how the colors had shifted in the sunset and how carefully Urien had chosen each variety of plant.
“It was what?” Maya leaned forward, eyes bright.
“Beautiful.” Sam stared at the espresso machine. “Really beautiful. He seemed nervous about showing it to me, though, like my opinion meant something to him.”
“And you hugged him.”
“I hugged him.” It felt weird admitting something like that out loud, but it felt good, too. “He looked so hopeful when he asked what I saw in the design, and then kind of sad when I described the colors. I don’t know what he wanted me to say, but I wanted to…I don’t know…thank him for sharing it with me.”
Maya was quiet for exactly three seconds. Then she squealed.
“Maya…”
“You like him!” She grabbed his shoulders. “You actually like one of them! Or wait…” Her eyes went wide. “Do you like all of them?”
Sam opened his mouth and then quickly closed it. Because the honest answer was yes, but to admit that…
“Oh my god, you do.” Maya’s squeal reached dog-whistle pitch. “You like all three of them.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“This is amazing! This is like, fate! Destiny! Your very own polyamorous…”
“Maya.”
She clapped both hands over her mouth, but her eyes were still dancing. When she lowered her hands, her grin could have powered the espresso machine. “Sorry. But Sam. Three gorgeous men who bring you flowers, baked goods, and gold bars…”
“We don’t know they left the gold bar.”
“And you’re developingfeelings.” Maya said the word like it was sacred. “Plural, for multiple people. Do you know how rare that is? How special?”
Sam’s chest felt too tight. “They probably just want to be friends.”
“Samuel Brown.” Maya was using her serious voice. “Nobody plants an entire garden in three days for a friend.”
The espresso machine beeped, but neither one of them noticed.
/~/~/~/~/
Tuesday morning brought rain and Mabon in another impeccable suit -charcoal today, with a burgundy tie that looked smart and expensive.
“The usual?” Sam reached for a cup before Mabon answered.
“Please.” Mabon’s smile was friendly. “And one of those lemon bars, if you have any left.”
Sam plated the pastry, trying not to think about Maya’s squealing or the way his pulse kicked up whenever one of them walked through the door. He was ringing up the order when Mrs. Bellows emerged from her office, took one look at Mabon, and her entire face hardened.
“Samuel, a word. Now.”
