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I couldn’t help it. She was so freaking cute when she was frustrated. And I didn’t mean it in a condescending or dismissive way, but there was something about the way her nostrils flared and her chin stuck out that struck me as … appealing. It showed she was confident and not afraid to back down, especially when she knew she was right.
A wide grin stretched across my face as I looked down at her, sipping my latte again. This time, I let out a loan moan. “Wow, the coffee itself is really good. Totally worth the trip out here.”
“Zachary Miller,” she snapped, whacking me in the arm. “Spill it.”
“My coffee?” I asked with a laugh, holding it out so it wouldn’t actually spill. To keep her from lashing out again, I let out a sigh. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. But remember, I had nothing to do with it.”
She looked suspicious, but she nodded.
“I don’t think us running into each other at Target was a coincidence.”
“You don’t?”
“Nope. Ms. Hattie knew we were headed there to shop for school supplies.”
I didn’t elaborate. I just watched as she looked away, seeming to connect the dots on her own. “No wonder she was so insistent that I had to go right then. I told her I would go the next day, but she wasn’t having it. That little sneak.”
“Yep.”
“So, does she have something to do with why you’re in here right now, too? Did she tell you to come get coffee? How did she know I would be in here?” She looked around, almost like she was looking for hidden cameras.
“No, this time, my sister’s the sneak.”
“Your sister?” She wrinkled her nose in confusion, then she nodded slowly. “She knew I’d be here.”
“Bingo. She was all amped about Grayson getting to ride Trevor’s lawn mower and see what he did as a groundskeeper. I should have known it was a trick. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Grayson’s loving it, but yeah.”
“Wow. I feel like I’m beingParent Trap’d.”
Smiling again, I took another drink of my latte. It really was amazing. I needed to buy a few bags of the drip coffee for the office. The other MPs would probably love it. Especially because it was created by one of our own.
“So,” she said, biting her full bottom lip, “what exactly do they think is going to happen by tricking us into seeing each other?”
Something about her question made me think of watching out for a land mine, and I shuffled my feet, choosing to dance around it. “I don’t know. Anyway, what are you doing here so early? The wedding doesn’t start until four.”
“Remember that painting I’m supposed to do in front of the guests?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I watched about a million TikTok videos from other artists, and they all recommended to start with a basic landscape of the background and then concentrate on filling in the people once they arrive. That way you have a dry canvas and enough time to focus on the details of what they’re wearing or how their hair is styled.”
Having absolutely zero artistic talent myself, I made a sound at the back of my throat like I was impressed. “Hm, sounds cool.”
“It’s coming together. I’m almost done, but I needed a coffee break.”
“Can I see it?”
She thought about it for a long moment—too long, if you asked me—but I waited for her reply like my life depended on it. Now that my sister had gotten us here, I wasn’t ready for this interaction to be over so soon.
After what seemed like a decade, she nodded once. “Sure. But it’s unfinished. So, don’t judge it too harshly.”
I thought back to all the times I’d hung out with her while she painted. I’d seen enough of her work to know that when she touched a brush of any size or shape to a blank canvas, magic was about to happen. She was a master at self-deprecation—something she told me was an artist’s curse—but there was no denying how talented she was.
“I never have before, have I?”
“No,” she admitted with a blush as we walked through the house and into the bright sunshine. “But that wasbefore.”
I stayed quiet until we reached the area where the ceremony was set up, having no idea what to say to that. Before what? Before I’d broken her heart? Because it wasn’t like my feelings for her back then were any different than they were now. If anything, the pain of being without her for so long—thanks to my own idiocy, no less—had made them stronger.
