Page 12 of Where Roads Lead

She turned to go, but Ava held out a hand to stop her.

“Wait, what about your coffee?”

“Oh, it’s okay.” She waved it off, as if I didn’t notice her salivating at the mouth every time someone walked by us with a cup of coffee. “I really don’t want one anymore.”

I snorted.

Now that she’d retreated from attack mode against me, I felt like the asshole she accused me of being for sending her away yet again without the caffeine she was obviously feening for.

“Just get a coffee,” I said, watching as her head whipped toward me in surprise.

“No,” she said. “I’m good.”

I stared at her, trying my best not to get irritated at her refusal.

“You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“Not stubborn. Just respecting your wishes.”

I rolled my eyes, keeping my tone as neutral as possible despite the circumstances. “What I wish is for you to get a coffee before you pass out on the floor and cause a hazard in my shop.”

Really, I just wanted to have her in and out, fast as possible. But this girl had a tendency to linger. It would be easier to give her what she wanted, so she’d go away. I just wasn’t expecting the mental gymnastics that came along with it.

“Then give me permission to be a customer here.”

I scoffed. “You don’t need permission. It’s a public establishment.”

“Owners have the right to deny service to whomever they choose.” She grinned, clearly enjoying what she was doing to me.

“I’m not denying you service.”

“And you never will?”

“Deny you service? That depends on what you’re thinking about doing.”

Was she trying to make my head explode?

“Well, I just want to make sure you’re not going to serve me on happy days only to turn me away whenever you’re in a bad mood.”

“You think this is a happy mood day?” I asked incredulously.

“It’s too early to tell.” She shrugged. “I don’t know you that well yet.”

“Okay, you two,” Ava said, irritated. “You’re acting like children.”

“You’re right,” the redhead said, head snapping to Ava guiltily, as if noticing that she was still there. “Sorry. A coffee would be great.”

I’d almost forgotten myself, locked in as I was on trying to keep up with this woman’s agonizing banter. Just like yesterday, my head was spinning, trying to stay ahead of whatever game she was trying to play with me.

It had been a long time since I’d been caught up in a back-and-forth like that. Longer still since I had a conversation with anyone that could be qualified as interesting.

Because, despite her being overwhelmingly frustrating, at least we weren’t talking about the same mind-numbing town gossip that had been discussed on a loop for the last fifteen years.

This girl—woman, I guess, since she looked to be in her mid-twenties—definitely wasn’t like anyone else around here, for better or for worse.

“Great,” I told her, ready to get her out of my store and out of my mind. “I’ll take your order in the front.”

And then I turned, heading behind the counter before she could hit me with another comment that I halfway feared would make my brain buffer while trying to come up with a response.