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No time, no privacy, no...anything, really.
But yes, I’m terrible for wanting to do it again, and to hell with the consequences.
There’s nothing innocent about the way my breath catches and my pulse leaps as he glances at me with a lazy smile.
“Looks like someone had a good time today,” he rumbles, darting me a wink that flays me open.
“I...yeah. Maybe.” Brushing my hair back, I glance over my shoulder with a laugh. “Apparently coffee and chocolate are a pretty addictive duo. We sold out our booth, and we’ll need to bring more for tomorrow.”
“That’s good news. You make amazing stuff, Felicity. More folks should know about it.” He grins, his teeth bright against his thick black beard. “With all the tourists here, they’ll be talking about The Nest all the way in New York before the month’s out. You could go national. Open chains everywhere.”
“I’d call you crazy, but the Sweeter Grind shop in Chicago is doing pretty well with my beans. There’s a billionaire’s wife totally hooked on their cinnamon lattes made with my blend and she’s given them a lot of love online.” I let out a breathless laugh, pressing a hand to my chest. “Honestly, I’ll settle for making rent and having a few bucks to spare in the bank.”
There it is.
That momentary flicker in his eyes, that wordless reminder of what we both know.
That I’m sitting on so much gold I’d never have to worry about anything for the rest of my life.
And ironically, I can’t dare sell off a single bar—not unless I want that life to be far shorter than intended.
But he clears his throat and tactfully changes the subject. “You doing anything tonight? Or are you too tired after slinging coffee all day?”
“Don’t know yet. I figured I’d check by the shop to make sure the staff held up okay with me gone. It’s dead today anyway with everyone here. I’ll probably get a head start on prep for tomorrow. After that...I might pass out.”
Alaska smiles again, his eyes creasing at the corners.
“Think you could manage to stay awake long enough to wander around here with me for a bit? I hear the fireworks are gonna be one hell of a show. They’re pulling out all the stops for the first night. Clark Patten and his uncle are in charge of pyrotechnics.”
I stop breathing.
Is...is he asking me on a date?
Of course he is.
We’re supposed to be pretending we’re a thing, and we’ve got to keep up thing-like appearances. And most romantic things around these parts are made of heated kisses, sealed hands, flowers strewn over cliffs, and so many moonstruck gazes on warm nights it’s a miracle lovers in Heart’s Edge don’t go all cross-eyed.
God.
As soon as I flush neon-pink with excitement, sinful-red follows.
I’m reading too much into this.
But that just makes me realize how much it wouldn’t be a chore.
How much I want to spend a summer night with him.
How much I want to share the night for real—not pretend—and not just for the sake of convenience.
I’ve got my head screwed on all wrong.
But I can at least enjoy this while it lasts.
I wrap my arms around myself, offering him a smile.
“Sure,” I say. “Just let me run by the café and then head home to lock up the cash and freshen up. I’d rather leave my cut in the backup safe at my house since there’s still a hole in my office wall.”
“No problem. You need a ride or an escort?”
“I think I’ll be okay getting home.” And then, because Clarissa’s watching—that’s the only reason, I tell myself—I stretch up on my toes and kiss his cheek, his thick beard rough against my lips and delightfully scratchy against my jaw. Dropping down, I smile again shyly, ducking my head. “But you could pick me up? Say, in about an hour and a half?”
“Sure thing, Fliss. I’ll be there with bells on.” I’ve never seen such a dazzling smile on a man’s face.
Also, my brain instantly conjures this weird image of Alaska in bells and—
Not much else, honestly.
Just one big hulk dressed down to nothing, jingling himself around like he’s Stripper Santa.
Oh my God.
So, I know it’s been a dry spell, but do I really have that little self-control?
Coughing, I clear my throat, covering my mouth, the perfect excuse to turn my face away when I feel like it’s got to be written all over my expression.
“See you then,” I whisper.
I make my escape as fast as possible while I still can.
I can’t even bear to look back when I know Clarissa and Alaska both—along with the whole town—must be staring at me.
Nope.
Just gonna grab the bank bag with my share of the cash and get gone.
My face cools down a bit by the time I get to my car. But I’m still floating on cloud nine on the drive to The Nest, sailing through checking over the register for the day and listening to my part-timers with one ear.
