Page 30 of Bittersweet

“Uh, no, I’m here to talk to Savannah about the food truck festival next weekend.”

“Oh.”

Hearing that Savannah may have messed up an order made him less than confident that she could handle his list of items for the festival. “Maybe I can just talk to you about it.”

“This is Savannah’s deal.”

He leaned his elbows on the countertop between them and looked around the shop. “Well, Savannah’s not here.”

Harper ran a rag over the surface of the counter then snapped his arms playfully with it to get him to move. “I’m busy.”

“Obviously.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I need to go over the list Wendy sent to Savannah and make sure everything will be ready for me.”

“Fine.” Harper moved to the computer, her fingers tapping out Bittersweet on the keyboard to retrieve his order. “I don’t see an order in here for you.”

Panic shot through his body. “What?”

“There are a couple small orders for early next week, but nothing for the festival.”

He was sure his jaw had hit the ground like Wile E. Coyote in the old Road Runner cartoons.

Harper started laughing. “I’m kidding.”

His eyes narrowed at her, and he let out a huff through his nose. He wasn’t the slightest bit mad, though. He liked playful Harper, especially after witnessing tearful Harper minutes before.

She went over the festival order with him, listing off all the items, confirming they would all be ready when he stopped by the shop that morning to pick them up.

“Are you going to the festival?” he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders.

“I hope you will.”

“Maybe.” She smiled shyly and went back to work.

That maybe was enough to make hope brew within.

13

The book club ladies cackled across the room as Harper swiped the countertop with her rag. Logan wandered along the display case, eyeing the sweets and treats. She hadn’t missed his comment.

Coffee and cupcakes belong together.

It was blatantly obvious, but it made her heart melt like butter in a baking dish.

She felt Logan’s eyes on her as she moved along the countertop, wiping away crumbs. When she glanced over at him, she caught him checking her out, and he quickly shifted his gaze back to the display.

Hoping to convey her disapproval, she rested her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. “Can I do something else for you?”

He looked over the case at her. “I’m just checking out the goods.”

“Okay, time to go.” She tossed her rag on the counter and moved around to his side, placing her hands on his arms, turning him toward the door, and giving him a friendly push.

“Hey!”

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