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Jamming my hands into my pockets, I let out a short laugh. “Yeah, you know, just coming in for a cup of this famous Leatherneck Coffee. Gotta support my fellow Marines …”
She blinked at me, then turned back to the counter and finished paying for her coffee. I pushed air through my pursed lips, staring at the ceiling. When she was finished with her transaction, she stepped aside to let me order. I moved forward, suddenly realizing I hadn’t even looked at the menu yet. Lucky for me, the guy behind the counter told me to give him a minute, then put his back to me as he prepared Layla’s drink.
“It’s really good,” she said. “The coffee, that is.”
“Yep,” I replied stiffly. I looked down and noticed that the front of her tank saidbridesmaid. “Did Aria have those shirts made for the wedding party?”
She looked down at it like she forgot what she was wearing, then chuckled. “Uh, no. Not exactly. Shelby had them made for her wedding, and she had a white one that saidbride. Lyndi and I thought it would be cute to wear them again since we’re bridesmaids for Aria, too, so we had another bridesmaid tank made for Shelby and a bride one made for Aria.”
My head spun while I tried to follow along, but I was a little distracted by how good she looked with no makeup on and her hair in a messy bun on top of her head. Don’t get me wrong, Layla had been a total knockout all done up in her ball gown at the Marine Corps ball one year. But she mostly took my breath away with no effort at all.
“That’s cool,” I said quickly, realizing she was waiting for some kind of acknowledgement. I cleared my throat. “It looks good. The shirt. Good color on you.”
She flushed slightly, then she narrowed her eyes at me. “Zac, why are you here? And I don’t mean why are you here at the B&B, but why are you inhere, getting coffee, talking to me?”
“I told you already. I’m here for the coffee. That’s it.”
“Not buying it.”
I blew out a breath. I was here for the coffee, at my sister’s suggestion. But there was more to it than that. “You want the honest truth?”
“That’d be nice.”
Ignoring the stab of guilt at that, I opened my mouth to tell her about Ms. Hattie and my sister’s grand plans for us to run into each other all the time. But then the coffee guy came back with a wide grin on his face.
“Here’s your latte,” he said to Layla, handing her the drink. Then he turned to me. “Thanks for your patience. What can I get for you?”
Oh, I don’t know, how about a time machine? Do you serve those?I thought bitterly.
“Uh, can I get …” I trailed off, realizing again that Istillhadn’t looked at the dang menu. I tried to study it now, but the pressure of having Layla within arm’s reach and yet totally untouchable caused the words to blur. Shaking my head, I just hooked a thumb at the cup in her hand. “I’ll have whatever she got.”
The coffee guy—Frank, according to his name tag—wrote on a cup and set it aside. “Anything else?”
“No, thanks.”
He gave me my total, and I did my best to chill out as I paid for my drink. Layla stood close enough that I could reach out and hug her to my side if this were three years ago. If this were three years ago, I could have kissed the top of her head and inhaled the familiar scent of her shampoo. If this were three years ago, maybe we would have been in here getting coffee the day of our own wedding, breaking the rule about not seeing each other before showtime. But it wasn’t.
Frank handed me my drink, and I thanked him, then turned away as I took a sip. Frowning, I looked down at what he’d written on the cup.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” Layla asked.
“Almond milk?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, my mom got me into it. It’s an acquired taste. If you want, you can go get something else—”
“No, it’s fine. It’s actually pretty good. But Grayson’s allergic to peanuts and most tree nuts, so it’s not something I’ll make a habit of, just in case.” The kid wasn’t prone to stealing sips of my coffee, but still. I took another drink, smacking my lips a little as I swallowed it, simply because I knew it drove her crazy. “Actually, it could use a little sweetener.”
I stepped over to the cart at the end of the bar and picked up a couple of packets of raw sugar. Layla wandered over, leaning one hip against the condiment stand. I didn’t look at her as I stirred the sweetener into my latte, but I could feel her eyes on me, burning through my skin.
After I added the lid, I held it up to her in salute. “Cheers.”
We tapped our paper cups together and both took a drink, then I grinned. “Ah, much better. Thanks for the drink rec.”
“Anytime. Know what you can do to repay me?”
A hundred different glorious options came to mind, but I’d wager none of them were quite what she was thinking. “No, what?”
“Tell me why you’re really here,” she insisted, glaring at me when I didn’t answer right away. “The truth this time.”
