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“Absolutely. Why is coffee so much better when someone else makes it?”
“What’s going on, Pop?”
“There’s a guy.”
Saylor spun around, spilling coffee grounds on the kitchen counter. “Who?” In their small town of Yachats, there weren’t many single guys left.
“He’s from Portland. Nothing much has happened yet, but I like him.”
It sounded like her and Monk, only something had happened between them.
Poppy walked over and took the bag of coffee and the scoop out of Saylor’s hand.
“Sit. I’ll make it.”
“I can do it.”
“Right. Go sit down and tell me whatever it is that’s on your mind.”
“There’s a guy,” she repeated Poppy’s earlier words.
“No shit? Who?”
“He works with my brother.”
“I see.”
“His name is Monk. That isn’t his name, but that’s what everyone calls him.” It occurred to Saylor that she’d spent two nights with the guy, had several rounds of amazing sex, and she had no idea what his real first name was. She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“What was that all about?”
There wasn’t much she could hide from Poppy; they’d been friends since they were younger than Saylor’s two girls.
“Just that I don’t know his name. Enough of that. Tell me about your guy.”
“We met at Speed, actually.”
The local coffee shop. Saylor should have stopped there to get coffee since neither of them seemed capable of actually brewing a pot.
“We went out later, for dinner, and then he had to go back to Portland.”
“Did he say when he’d be back?”
Poppy shook her head. “I really like him, though.”
“What do you like about him?”
“He’s sexy as fuck—” Poppy looked over her shoulder to make sure neither of the girls was close by. “Anyway, you get what I’m saying. Tell me about Monk.”
He was sexy as fuck too, but otherwise, where did she start? The guy was unlike any other she’d ever met.
“My mom said she thinks I’ve met my match.”
Poppy nodded. “Stubborn smartass who has sworn off relationships for the rest of his life?”
“Essentially.”
“If that’s the case, why did you say there is a guy.”
