Page 38 of Warming His Bed

SADIE

The rich aroma of coffee wafted around me as I pushed open the door to the Strange Brew Snack Bar on Saturday afternoon in search of lunch. Dark plank floors gleamed up at me and the glass-front wooden display case housed the most delicious-looking cakes and pies I’d ever seen. A curvy brunette woman with hot pink lipstick and a wide smile greeted me.

“Welcome to Strange Brew. What will you be having today?”

After taking in the artfully scrolled chalk menus, I landed on a turkey BLT with garlic-dill aioli and a latte.

“Do you want to wait for your coffee, or should I bring it to your table with your food?” She placed a small number placard on the counter in front of me.

“I’ll wait.”

Last night, the house was quiet when I got back after picking up my car. Drew left the door unlocked, but he avoided me. He was holed up in his room all night and he’d dodged me this morning as well.

When I’d headed downstairs in search of coffee, there was a note and a spare key.

Feel free to come and go as you please. — D.

My gut told me whatever his hang-up was about our hookup had more to do with him than me, but that didn’t keep it from bruising my pride a little. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so bold and teased him about taking him out of the running for vacation fling candidate. The truth was, something about this wounded man burrowed under my skin.

The barista slid my latte across the wooden counter with a smile. The intricate four-leaf clover design swirled into the foam was so impressive I almost didn’t want to ruin it by drinking it.

“You look like maybe you could use a little luck today,” she said.

My lips tipped up. “Couldn’t we all?”

“Girl, I know that’s right. You grab yourself a table and I’ll be by with your food as soon as it’s ready.”

I roamed around the coffee shop for a few moments, taking in all the paranormal and oddity-themed decorations. The place did its name justice. All kinds of funky art prints depicting UFOs, Bigfoot, and spooky ghost ships adorned the walls. I thumbed through a bookcase full of paperbacks on topics like Mothman Sightings of Lake Michigan, Serial Killers of the Midwest,and Hauntings of Mosquito Bay. The design perfectly skirted the line between intentional kitsch and I Believe. It didn’t come off as too try-hard, nor too tinfoil hat.

I headed to the second floor and grabbed a table next to the window, looking out onto one of the sunny downtown streets. Earlier this morning, I’d hit up a few more of the shops. No one had given up a shred of information about Axel Everett. Thankfully, I had plans with Kobie for the afternoon, so I could at least make a little more headway on my piece on the festival. As far as my other two articles, I’d have to start fabricating things soon.

My phone chimed from inside my bag, and my stomach sank. Eirin had been hounding me since late last night. Asking what I’d found out so far. And the hell if I was ready to tell her it was zilch.

Eirin: I’m starting to think you’re not cut out for this assignment.

Sadie: I’ll get you everything you want. I just need a little more time.

Eirin: I want drafts for two of your three pieces in the next three days. And as soon as you find Axel’s place, I want GPS coordinates.

Sadie: Will keep you posted.

Eirin had never asked for a GPS coordinate before. Hell, half of the stuff we published was grossly exaggerated. A quarter was fully fabricated. We never gave those kinds of details or specifics. What the hell was Eirin even going to do with GPS information? Publishing it would get her sued into oblivion by Axel Everett.

Not that I was in any danger of actually finding where his local digs were.

“Want to talk about it?” The barista slid my sandwich down in front of me.

“Sorry?”

“You look like somebody ran over your dog…then told you it was somehow your fault. I know we just met but I’m known around here as being a darn good listener.”

Part of me wanted to believe everyone in this town really was this friendly, but it was probably just an attempt to get some gossip about what I was up to. “Just work stuff.”

She shrugged good-naturedly. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, I’ll be up at the front.”

“Actually,” I called out as she started to walk away, “I do have something you might be able to help me with. Have you lived here long?”

She smiled and strolled back to my table, shoving her hands in her back pockets. “My whole life.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com