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“Yeah, mine gives me problems too. What did you replace it with?”
I park a hand on my hip. “I don’t know if I should share valuable info with the competition.”
He steps closer. “Let’s pretend tonight I’m not your competition.”
I gaze up at him and notice the way his lip is a bit crooked when he smiles. I also notice his eyes are the perfect shade of brown. Like my most favorite thing. Coffee. They’re mesmerizing, and when I stare at them for too long, I find myself forgetting exactly what he’s just said to me.
Something about how he’s not my competition, but he is.
“The Estella Cafe. The Two Group Automatic model,” I mumble out, no longer caring if I give him all the secrets in the world.
“Oh, I’ll have to look into that.”
He’s too close. I need to move away before I do something silly like rise up on my tiptoes and kiss him.
I lead him further into the back area to my tiny office. “And that’s my office, but you can’t go in there.”
He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets. “Why not?”
“Because Idohave all my secrets for my winning latte recipe in there.”
“Ah, well, you’re doing better than me, then. I have no idea what I’ll be creating.”
I bet he’s lying.
A guy like him has to have a plan, right?
I’m excited to create my praline and pecan gingerbread latte. I’m calling it The Ninjabread Man Latte, because it’s like a regular gingerbread man, but with a kick. It’ll definitely win, and I can’t let Harrison get his eyes on the recipe.
“So, that’s basically my shop,” I tell him once we’ve reached the back door next to my office.
He steps closer. “What made you open up a coffee shop?”
I blink. “Um, because I love coffee. More than anything, I love the smell of it. I love creating new flavors to put a smile on everyone’s face. And I’m a huge morning person.”
He smiles, but it fades quickly. “Oh, I’ve actually never been a morning person.”
“But you love coffee, right?” I ask him.
He nods. “Sure, doesn’t everyone?”
“No, but you love it, love it, right?”
He leans an arm against the wall, right by my head. “To be honest. I’m not really a coffee drinker.”
My eyes widen in horror. “Are you kidding me?” Why would he move here and open a coffee shop? Does he realize he’s dashing my dreams just by being open?
“Nope.”
“Why open a shop?”
He sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “My dad. He loved coffee. He’d always wanted to open up a shop, and when he died, I knew I had to move back home and do what he couldn’t.”
“Wow,” I breathe out. I don’t know if that’s the sweetest story or what, but my heart rate kicks up.
He leans closer. “I want to love coffee as much as you do.”
I’m mesmerized again by his eyes. I stare too long. “I do love it,” I say in an octave lower than my normal voice.
