Page 16 of Billionaire's Bookworm

“You know me too well,” I laughed, stepping up to the counter. “And I’ll take a mocha latte—extra chocolate, because it’s one of those days.”

“Aren’t they all?” She chortled, already reaching for a mug. “Coming right up.”

I glanced around the cozy interior. Familiar faces occupied most of the tables—Mr. Thompson was deeply engrossed in his newspaper (probably a crossword), the knitting club ladies were in animated discussion (yarn shortages, perhaps), and a couple of tourists ogled the eclectic décor adorned with seashells and vibrant paintings by local artists.

“Here you go, love,” Sandy said, sliding the latte and scone toward me. “So, heard there was quite the excitement at the chili cook-off last yesterday.”

I felt a flush creep up my cheeks. “Oh, you know, the usual—beans, spices, competitive fire.”

“And perhaps a certain handsome neighbor making a scene?” She leaned forward, a conspiratorial gleam in her eye.

I raised an eyebrow. “Sandy, you wouldn’t happen to be indulging in town gossip, now would you?”

“Who, me?” She feigned innocence, placing a hand over her heart. “Just repeating what I’ve heard from reliable sources.”

I took a sip of my latte, savoring the rich chocolate. “Well, if you’re referring to Wade’s over-the-top antics, then yes, he was there.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” I tried for nonchalance. “We tied for first place. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” She arched a knowing eyebrow. “Because he kissesallhis culinary competitors in front of a crowd?”

I nearly choked on my sip. “He what? Who told you that?”

She chuckled. “Sweetheart, this is Seashell Cove. News travels faster than a gull after a french fry.”

“Great,” I muttered, sinking onto a stool. “Just what I need—the whole damn town thinking I’m canoodling with Wade James.”

“Could be worse,” she teased. “Heiseasy on the eyes.”

I threw her a playful glare. “He’s also arrogant and infuriating and?—“

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Sandy quipped, interrupting my tirade with a wink.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Who’s side are you on, anyway?”

“One hundred percent yours, Emma sweetheart.” Her tone softened. “Just don’t rule the man out. Sometimes the ones who ruffle our feathers the most are the ones worth flying with.”

“Profound as always,” I mused, nibbling on the scone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good girl.” She gave my hand a maternal pat, before bustling off to attend to another customer.

Hopping off the stool, I settled into a corner table by the window to watch Seashell Cove go about its morning. The sun climbed ever higher, casting a golden glow over the pastel storefronts and picket fences.

Meg and Ryker strolled by, hand in hand, Meg’s gorgeous waves catching the light, Ryker’s easy smile directed solely at her.

God, those two were disgustingly adorable.

I waved them in, and they entered the café, grins plastered on their faces.

“Emma! Fancy meeting you here,” Meg exclaimed, pulling me into a hug.

“Imagine that,” I laughed. “Me, in a coffee shop. Shocking.”

Ryker chuckled, snagging a chair from a nearby table. “Mind if we join you?”

“Not at all. The more the merrier.”

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