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A minute later, Betty and I are standing at the register, up close with the girl of my dreams. When she comes around, squatting down low to greet Betty, she looks up at me, beamingher electric smile.
“Morning, Lucas Pine.”
“Morning, Allie Walker. You look perfect today.”
She looks down at herself, as if she forgot what clothes she had on and laughs. “I slept in this shirt last night.”
“Pity I missed that.”
“Lucas Pine!” she says my full name again, this time with a little censure and a big smile.
“Alright, Betty,” I call my dog back to me. “It’s my turn.”
Allie laughs, standing up, “Your turn for what? You want me to pet you?”
Closing the two-foot distance between us, I draw both of her hands around my neck. “Yes, please.” Then I pull her close with one arm around her waist and the other cradling her head. She melts into my touch, rising up on her toes to meet me for a kiss.
I didn’t think it was possible, but her lips are even more plush today than they were last night. I release the kiss reluctantly.
“That was yummy,” she giggles, squeezing my hand before turning and moving to the espresso grinder. “Someone left peonies on my desk,” she tells me over her shoulder.
“Did they?”
“How’d you know they’re my favorite?”
Sitting on the closest barstool, I reach down and scratch Betty behind the ear as Allie gets back to work. “Devon, wants you to be happy more than she doesn’t like me.”
“I told you she likes you,” Allie tsks.
“She doesn’t.”
Allie throws a loose coffee cup sleeve at me with accuracy that would have hit me in the forehead if I wasn’t quick enough to catch it. “She does.”
“Agree to disagree?” I hedge.
“Have I ever?”
“Not yet, but I’m not giving up.” She’s too much fun to tease.
She tries to glare at me, sparking laughter in both of us.
“How was your morning, sweetheart?”
Allie grumbles under her breath before pasting a smile on and saying, “It was great.”
“Bullshit.”
“What? It was. I got to sleep in.”
I soften my voice. “Tell me what happened.”
She sighs, setting the black handle into the espresso machine much harder than usual. “Can we not?”
“Sure.” I lean forward on the counter. “If that’s what you need. But it seems like it’s not what you need.”
“You’re so annoying,” she huffs and doesn’t say anything more until she sets an Americano on the counter for me. I spin the cardboard cup between my fingers, seeing the turbine in theTurbine Cafélogo in a new light.It’s the same one she has tattooed on her hip.She speaks up again before I can comment on it. “I toured a building this morning, and it was fine.” Her voice is all wrong. Tight and quiet. “Just like every other building I’ve toured. Nothing is special like,” she lifts a hand up, waving it around to indicate that nothing is like Station 19.
Makes sense she was trying not to say anything to me about it. She loves this building. She belongs here, but I’m the one who gets to keep it.It’s not right.“Sounds shitty. I’m sorry.”
