Page 1 of Beanful Wishes

Chapter One

Sophia

The scent of strongly brewed coffee and freshly baked cinnamon rolls hits me the moment I push open the door to the coffee shop.

“Welcome to Coffee Loft,” a tall drink of cool water calls from behind the counter.

I tear my eyes away and focus my attention on the establishment that’s been the talk of the town of late. I can see the appeal of the cozy space, and if the coffee is as good as it smells, it should do well.

Judging by the crowd gathered, it already is.

“What can I get you?” the barista, who greeted me a moment ago, asks. He’s at least six feet tall, wearing a dark blue shirt with the coffee shop’s logo stretching across his broad chest.

I stare up at the board, dazzled by the choices. “How about a tall spiced vanilla latte?”

“Sure about that?” There’s a hint of amusement in his deep voice.

I look into a pair of deep blue eyes that draw me in and have to remind myself to blink. “I’m sure,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster.

“Coming right up.” He turns, presenting me with an even better view of his broad shoulders and a crop of sandy hair that, under influence of the large ceiling fans, tousles like the dry sea grass in the Atlantic breeze.

I step back, allowing the next person in a long line of customers to place their order. The place is packed.

When a young couple who looks like they’ve been on a date leaves a small bistro table in the far corner, I practically race over and put down my bag before taking a seat under a bulletin board. Index cards are tacked to it, and a stack of them is sitting in a box on a small table next to mine.

“The Wishing Wall?” I ask no one in particular, reading the words out loud.

Several patrons turn to look at me like I’ve lost my marbles. I stand up and tug my sweater lower over my hips, stepping up for a closer look at the notecards tacked to the corkboard.

I scan through the handwritten notes, each of them expressing a wish, ranging from whimsical to heartfelt.

“It’s something else, isn’t it?” An older gentleman walks up and picks up an index card and pen.

“What do you know about it?” I ask.

“Not much. Only that the wishes have a way of coming true.” He scribbles a few lines and tacks his card up with a pushpin.

“Do you know how long this has been here?” I point to the board.

The old man shrugs. “A few months? Long enough for word to get around town that this is the place to come if there’s something you truly desire.” He points to his heart.

“Any idea who put this up?” I ask, hoping for a hint to who might be responsible for the rumors I’ve heard about this place.

More shrugs. “No one knows.”

I watch him walk off.

“He’s right, you know.” A young woman at the table next to mine turns to face me. “Those wishes have a way of coming true.”

“Seriously?” I resist the urge to pull out the pen and notepad that is in my purse.

She nods. “My friend wished for a date with this guy she met at the dog park, and two days later, she ran into him, right here at Coffee Loft.”

“Interesting.” I’m not sure I believe the story.

“I’m Tracy, by the way.” She holds out her hand, and I shake it. “I’m a bit of a regular. Especially since Jake started working here.” Tracy points toward the counter where the barista that I placed my order with is busy working an impressive-looking espresso machine. His T-shirt stretches across broad shoulders, accentuating the muscles beneath. The man is in shape.

I turn back. “Sophia. It’s nice to meet you.”

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