Page 27 of Beanful Wishes

Jake

Irun a duster over the bookshelf one last time, eyeing the clock. My apartment is spotless, probably cleaner than it's been since I moved in. I've rearranged the throw pillows on the couch at least three times. Ridiculous, but I can't help it. I want everything to be perfect.

A quick glance in the hallway mirror confirms that I look presentable—casual, but not too casual. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. It's just breakfast with Sophia, I tell myself. We've shared countless meals at Coffee Loft. This shouldn't be any different.

Except it is. Because of last night and the kiss we shared under the soft glow of a riverside street lamp.

I grab my keys and head out, locking the door behind me. The bakery is not far down the street, and the morning air is crisp and invigorating. It’s doing wonders for my nerves.

The bell over the bakery door chimes as I enter, and the scent of fresh pastries greets me. I choose an assortment—chocolate croissants, fruit Danish, and cinnamon rolls.

I rush back to my building, worried Sophia will beat me there. The elevator doors open on my floor, and I nearly collide with my neighbor, Fiona.

"Whoa there, Jake!" she laughs, steadying me. She spots the bakery box. "Big plans this morning?"

“I have a friend coming over for breakfast." I glance down the hall, making sure there is no sign of her.

Fiona raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "A friend, huh? Would this happen to be the reporter you've been talking about non-stop?"

"Is it that obvious?" I ask.

She pats my arm sympathetically. "Only to anyone with eyes, honey. What’s the occasion?”

I clear my throat. “Let’s just say I’m about to pour out my heart. Hopefully the pastries will sweeten the deal.”

“I seriously doubt you need them,” she says. “Jake Harrison, if I’ve ever seen a great catch, it’s you.”

“Let’s hope she feels the same way.” Last night’s kiss makes me think she does.

Fiona's expression softens. “I’m sure she does. And if you want my two cents, I’d say, be open and honest about your feelings. Let the chips fall where they may."

I can't help chuckling. "You know, you're not the first person to give me that advice recently."

"Well, that's because it's good advice," she says, heading to the elevator, leaving me standing in the hallway, pastry box in hand, heart pounding.

Back at my place, I arrange the pastries on a plate, brew a pot of coffee, and check the time. Any minute now.

The doorbell rings, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I walk to the door and open it.

Sophia looks beautiful in a casual sundress, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She's clutching her purse tightly, and I notice her shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Hi," she says, her voice a little breathless.

"Hi," I echo, suddenly feeling tongue-tied. "Come in, please."

"Your place is lovely," Sophia says, her eyes roaming around the living room.

"Thanks.” I close the door behind her. "Feel free to look around while I finish setting up breakfast."

I retreat to the kitchen, grateful for a moment to collect myself. As I pour the coffee into mugs, I hear Sophia moving around the living room. I peek out to see her examining the photos on my bookshelf.

"Is this your family?" she calls out, pointing to a picture.

I walk over, coffee mugs in hand. "Yeah, that's from last Christmas."

Sophia smiles, accepting the coffee. "You look happy. You're close with them?"

I nod. "I am now.” This isn’t the time or the place to talk about my childhood.

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