Page 16 of All You Need Is Macchiato

He's teasing, but there's something else in his expression. Something that makes me wonder what would happen if I took one step closer, if I?—

A car horn breaks the moment. We both step back, and I realize we've reached the lodge's parking lot.

"I should check on the market," I say quickly.

"Right." He runs a hand through his hair. "Wouldn't want things getting too rustic."

I watch him climb the lodge steps, wondering how someone can feel simultaneously so familiar and so out of reach.

Chapter Seven

Kathryn

"One sugar or two?"

I look up to find Nolan standing over an antique tea service, perfectly at ease in this quiet corner of the lodge's lounge. The fire crackles beside us, and outside the window, the first stars are appearing over the mountains.

"One," I say, sinking deeper into the overstuffed armchair. "Though I have to say, you don't strike me as a tea person."

"Aunt Evie's influence." He hands me a delicate cup, the china warm against my fingers. "She believes all important conversations should happen over tea."

"Is this an important conversation?"

His eyes meet mine over the rim of his cup. "You tell me."

I try to focus on the numbers from today's market, not on how the firelight softens his features or how different he seems here, away from the coffee shop's tensions.

"The turnout exceeded expectations," I say, pulling out my tablet. "Though you probably noticed that."

"I noticed a few things." He settles into the chair opposite mine, close enough that our knees almost touch. "Like how Sara Miller's scones disappeared faster than at the lodge's breakfast buffet."

"Are you admitting I was right about something?"

"Don't push it." But there's a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Though I will say, watching Old Joe Thompson write on that Wishing Wall was... unexpected."

"The grumpy man with the pickles?"

"The same." Nolan's laugh is rich and warm, wrapping around me like the fire's heat. "Never thought I'd see him asking for knitting lessons."

"Sometimes people just need permission to want things." I trace the rim of my teacup. "To ask for help."

"Like you're about to do?"

I look up, startled. "What?"

"You've got that look." He leans forward, and suddenly the space between our chairs feels very small. "The one you get when you're trying to solve a problem."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who's been watching."

My heart does a little flip at his words, but I force myself to focus. "The market was successful, but..."

"But?"

"But one good event doesn't erase three years of disconnect." I set down my cup. "The locals still see us as outsiders. Corporate intruders. And Cam's attitude isn't helping."

"Ah." Nolan sits back, but his eyes stay on mine. "You want to know how to make Coffee Loft feel like it belongs here."

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