Page 54 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

“Eden Coffee.”

Griffin’s sister’s business. A spike of nerves hit, but I nodded and followed Pops out of the station. Like our last lunch date, we had to park off Main and walk.

“It’s cute,” I said, taking in the green building.

Eden Coffee was emblazoned in gold letters on the coffee shop’s front door. The

black-paned windows gleamed in the June sunshine. A chalkboard sandwich board stood on the sidewalk, the swirly lettering outlining today’s specials. Even from beyond the door, the scent of coffee, vanilla, sugar and butter filled my nose.

“Now I’m really hungry.”

“You haven’t been here yet?” he asked.

“I’ve been sticking to coffee at home or at the station.” Hoping a few encounters with the officers in the break room would give us a chance to bond. “And I didn’t realize they had lunch.”

“Lyla makes amazing food. Sunday morning, let’s meet here for breakfast. Her pastries are the reason I’m getting a gut.”

I scoffed and smacked his barrel of a chest. “Please.”

He chuckled, opening the door for me. A bell jingled overhead, and the moment we stepped inside, I nearly collided with Frank.

“Hey there.” Frank beamed, pulling me into a quick hug. “How’s it going, cutie?”

“Good.” I smiled. “Pops and I were just going to eat lunch.”

“Same here. I just walked through the door and was searching for a table.”

“Join us,” Pops said, motioning toward the counter.

I moved to follow them, taking in the restaurant. The interior was painted the same shade as the exterior, giving it a moody, modern feel. Beside the counter were glass cases of pastries and muffins and other baked goods. There were a handful of wooden tables along the walls, all but one of them occupied.

My steps faltered as I spotted a handsome face at the table closest to the counter.

Griffin was wearing the same clothes he’d been in this morning at my house. His faded hat still covered his unruly hair. He was sitting with two beautiful women. One had brown hair the same shade as Griff’s, twisted into a knot. She wore a green apron. Lyla. I recognized her face from the family picture at his house.

The other woman’s long blond hair hung in straight, shiny strands over her shoulders. Her strappy tank top showcased her lean arms and her jeans were skintight. She placed her hand on Griffin’s forearm and a zing of jealousy raced through my veins.

I tore my eyes away, forcing my feet across the room. We were casual. We were temporary. But we hadn’t talked about being exclusive. I’d just assumed that since he’d spent each night in my bed, it was the only bed. Was he dating her? Was this why he was so busy? I kept my gaze aimed forward, refusing to look.

My stomach twisted and whatever hunger I’d had earlier vanished as I followed Pops and Frank through the cafe.

“Hey, Covie.” Lyla stood from the table, rounding the corner to stand behind the counter.

“Hi, Lyla.” Frank waved.

“Frank.” She said his name but kept her gaze on Pops.

“Lyla, it’s a special day.” Pops gave her a wide smile. “I’d like you to meet my granddaughter, Winslow Covington. She gets to experience the magic of your food today.”

“Hello!” Lyla smiled, her blue eyes sparkling as she extended a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. My dad’s been talking about you constantly.”

But not her brother. Because I was a secret. The blonde was not.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” I shook her hand, doing my best to pretend her brother wasn’t at the table within earshot.

Pretending was pointless.

Griffin’s gaze burned into my spine.