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I grab the smallest and cheapest bag of coffee before heading to the counter. He rings me up, but when I reach into my pockets, I can cover the three dollars, but I’m short twenty-three cents. “I’ll try it after payday.” Glancing at the spare change tray, which I’ve probably donated enough change over the years to pay for a lot more than cheap coffee, I discover it empty this time. “I’m a little short, so I’ll find something else inst—”
“I’ll cover it.”
When I look behind me, I’m greeted with that smile that weakens my knees and the warmth of the fire lit in his brown eyes. I’d like to act like I’m not over the moon thrilled to see Harbor again, but I’m not that talented of an actress. But then I realize he’s bailing me out. So embarrassing. “It’s okay. I don’t need a handout.”
Harbor sets a bottle of fancy water on the counter and a pack of gum. Peppermint, my favorite flavor. “I owe you, and I always pay my debts.”
“I’d hardly call a soda a debt,” I start but then see the coffee and think of tonight when I’ll need it most, and then the morning trying to function without it. “Okay. It’s only twenty-three cents.” I roll my eyes at myself. It’s like one embarrassing moment after another.
He probably didn’t have to think twice about it, put it on his card, and not worry how the bill gets paid when I’m standing here worried about twenty-three cents.
I say, “Thank you,” and take the coffee.
“Need anything else? I only have a credit card, and it’s a ten-dollar minimum charge.”
TJ says, “There’s a pumpkin spice coffee Lark said she’d like to try.”
Harbor grins, knowing TJ just sold me out for a delicious-flavored coffee drink. “Perfect. Add it to the tab.”
I whisper, “Traitor,” under my breath.
Under the sounds of the keys of the register, TJ laughs. “He offered.”
I roll my eyes and take my cheap coffee. When I head to the door, Harbor says, “Don’t forget your pumpkin spice.”
Pausing, I glance back at him, and as if I’m spiting him, I turn abruptly and head down the aisle to grab the bag of beans. Like my dad, I hold my head high and march myself outside.
It’s gotten dark since I was inside the store. I walk to my bike and mount it while waiting for Harbor to come out. He sees me as soon as he does, his smile growing like I just made his day.
With the coffee tucked in the small basket on the front of my bike, I say, “Now I owe you eight dollars.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Lark. Just a friend helping a friend.” He walks toward a car.
Oh.
My.
God.
Is that his car?
How’d I miss this amazing sports car the first time we met? Sleek and silver, it’s a dream, and the prettiest car I’ve ever seen. And by far the most expensive I’ve been near other than maybe the car shows my dad used to take me to when I was younger. But this one might still win that award.
How does he afford this car? Oh wait, that’s right. He’s a Westcott.
I’d almost forgotten.
Popping open the driver’s door, he stops with his hand on top and eyes my bicycle. “It’s pretty dark out. Is it safe to ride home at this hour?”
His words remind me of my dad’s, causing warmth to spread across my chest.
I swing my leg over and stand on my tiptoes to balance. “It’s all I got.” Not a dig at his car, but I make do with what I have.
“Since destiny brought us here together tonight—”
“Or you’re stalking me?” I laugh, loving to tease this man.
“Ironically, I had the same thought about you being the one stalking me,” he volleys right back while also laughing.
