Page 11 of Library or Lattes?

Something was immediately different when I walked through the door of the Little Acorn the next morning. The usual air of sweet familiarity was absent, and so was Geoff. Instead, behind the counter was some guy I’d never seen before in my life. Tall, broad-shouldered, in a red flannel shirt, with gorgeous dark eyes, and taking up way more space than Geoff ever did.

“Hi there?” I looked at him quizzically, waiting for him to clear up the confusion.

“Do you work here?” he asked me, dish towel in hand, his forehead creased with irritation. He’d barely even looked at me before he looked away again and started messing with my coffee machine. I looked around the coffee shop territorially. There was something else different, but I couldn’t put—The pumpkins. My pumpkins. The ceramic ones I’d arranged so carefully on the floor beside the counter had been moved into a corner where you could barely see them.

I walked over and moved them right back.

“Yes, I’ve been here on weekends for more than a year now,” I told him. “Are you new?”

He sighed.

“No. I’m not new. My dad owns the place, and I’ve been sent in to save the day because he broke his leg last night.” He rolled his eyes.

“Wait, what? Your dad is Geoff? Geoff broke his leg?” So much for just ducking out.

The guy sighed again, like he could barely believe what he was saying. “Trying to put up Halloween lights on the house.”

This was seriously bad. How would the coffee shop get by without Geoff?

“Is he okay?” I asked. “What can I do? I could bring him some donuts? He loves the maple-glazed ones and I could ask my pop to stop by, see if he needs any help with the yard. He has such a big stretch of land out there …” My mind raced, trying to come up with something, anything I could do to help Geoff.

But this boy didn’t seem interested in anything I had to offer. “He’ll be fine,” he said. “My mom’s gone into full nurse mode at the house, and her over-the-top involvement in other people’s lives is not just directed at Dad. Which is why I’m living out back for the foreseeable future.” He nodded behind him and toward a large shed behind the coffee shop, which Geoff had never actually used for tools. I had always thought it would make a perfect tiny house.

But also. This was Geoff’s son … but it wasn’t Sam or Kyle.

“James?”

“Bingo. And who are you?”

“Willa. Willa Taylor.” I smiled breezily, pretending he and his kiss hadn’t been on my mind just yesterday.

He did not smile back. “Oh. Willa. Your name came up last night, actually. Before Dad fell and broke his leg, he said you did such a great job with the decorations here that he wanted to do the same to our house …”

“Oh no! He should have asked me to do it. No, no, no, I didn’t mean to put pressure on him. I just thought … Is he in a lot of pain? What if this is all my fault?” I asked.

James had no patience. “Like I said—he’s okay. My mom’s looking after him, but now it means that I have to deal with … all this.” He waved his arm around the coffee shop in frustration.

So I basically broke Geoff’s leg, and now I was ruining things for James too.

I took a deep breath. “Here, let me make us coffees,” I said. “Your dad and I usually sit and have a latte before we open.” I had to reach around him for the cups before awkwardly turning on the coffee machine, and somehow I could feel his irritation beaming into my back.

“I’m actually all set,” he said. For emphasis, he pointed at Geoff’s old chipped mug, filled with black coffee.

“Oh, oh-okay,” I stammered, but persisted with making my own latte.

It wasn’t my usual good work, though. I’d perfected the art of the latte, and even if I was making one for myself, I’d draw a little something in the foam. Not today. My head was all over the place. It wasn’t like Geoff was frail or anything, but he always liked to stick to what he knew. Simple routines. I was the one in charge of decorations in the coffee shop, and I would have helped Geoff at home, too, if he’d just asked.

If I was distracted, I couldn’t even imagine how James was feeling. No wonder he was in a bad mood.

“So how come you’re back in town?” I asked him. “Was it just because of your dad breaking his leg, or a happy coincidence?” I smiled the smile that charmed all the customers.

“I wouldn’t call it happy,” he snapped.

“Aw, I bet your mom and Geoff are over the moon to see you. And just in time for Harvest Festival! I’ve ordered more decorations for us here, and I have some great ideas about what we could do this year—”

James put his hand up to silence me and flipped the sign on the door to Open. “I’d actually prefer to work quietly, if you don’t mind?”

Stunned, I cleaned the already-clean coffee machine. Who did he think he was, holding up his hand at me like that? I started drafting the message I would send to Lennie when James wasn’t looking.