Page 19 of Until I Find You

I can’t say I get the specific notes, but I can start to sense the sweetness. I swallow the coffee and nod. “I like that.”

“Yes, it’s a nice light roast. Light roasts can be so…flaccid. But this place does it right.”

“Flaccid?”

Jack’s cool-toned cheeks redden. “Well, you know what I mean. Light roasts can be watery and lack body.”

“I see.” I can’t contain a giggle.

“I have to watch what I say around you, hm?” Jack asks through a light laugh.

I nod. “Always. I might be a professional, but when you say things that would make a middle schooler laugh…”

“Noted.”

I put the first coffee down and move to the second. “So, what changed your mind? With the un-firing?”

Jack leans back in his seat. “I didn’t like the way I handled myself.”

“I wasn’t at my best either. But I’m glad you’re self-aware.”

“Yeah, it was embarrassing to say the least.”

I consider Jack for a moment. He’s not looking at me, his eyes downcast. He must shave every morning for his face to look so smooth.

I won’t lie, there’s a part of me that would love to know how my lips feel against such smooth skin. The scruffy look is so in vogue that I can’t remember the last man I kissed who didn’t have facial hair.

“I want to be good at this, Camilla. And I’m not.”

“You’re learning. That’s okay.”

Jack sighs. “I’m worried I won’t.”

“You just started. And if you maybe listened to the person who has a bit of experience, you might find yourself learning faster than you expected.”

Jack appraises me with his dark eyes. Dense forest. Wet earth. Gorgeous. Inviting in an ethereal way.

I sip the coffee in my hand. As I let it rest on my tongue, I’m struck by the acidity.

“Ecuador. Green apple. Plum. Lemon.”

I swallow, grimacing. “I can taste that.”

Jack laughs. “Not your taste, that’s just fine.”

He walks me through the last two coffees. The silky and chocolatey house blend and then a deep espresso.

I’ve never realized just how different black coffees can be, have never taken the time to learn, I suppose. But Jack knows his stuff. Knows the notes, the origins, and more.

Zeke brings out scones along with a lavender latte for me that Jack ordered ahead. It’s decorated with latte art and a smattering of dried lavender.

“A New York staple, the lavender latte,” Jack says. “I think it’s a bit overdone at this point.”

“Yes, for aseriouscoffee drinker like you.”

Jack shakes his head. “No, no. I’m not going to be militant about how people drink their coffee. I want the place to be quintessentially Hawaiian. Not in a touristy way, not like hula dancers on the dashboard and leis and…I’m working on a hibiscus syrup for a latte recipe.”

“I had no idea you…” I frown. “I’m confused.”

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