Page 41 of The Barista's Beloved

“What’s the first rule of romance book club?”

Maeve sighed. “Sex scenes come first.”

Angelica shook a finger at her. “And that includes our personal lives.”

“I know, I’m sorry!” Maeve tucked her feet up under her on the sofa and accepted a glass of wine. “The first time was after that date at Frankie’s.”

“When he took you home? I knew it!” Jess whooped. “I told Sean he was going to make a move that night.”

“Um, I made the move, actually.” Maeve’s cheeks heated again at the memory of her desperation. Thank God it had worked out.

“You jumped him?”

“Oh, yeah. Invited him in, never let him leave.” She shook off the bad part of the memory and grinned at Naomi. “I thought it was going to be a last hurrah for our friendship but in the morning he asked me out.”

Angelica bounced in her chair. “Tell us about the sex! The sex is the important part!”

Maeve laughed. “Does Noah know how much you tell us?”

“Sean makes suggestions,” Jess said. “He says he wants to sound good for posterity.”

They all laughed. Bolstered by the wine, Maeve let a few details slip.

“I think I need to get a big fur rug,” Angelica said dreamily.

“Do you think they sell them in bulk?” Jess asked.

Naomi was the only one who seemed unmoved. She was watching Maeve with an odd expression on her face.

“What?” Maeve asked.

“What made you sleep with him?” Naomi asked bluntly.

“Um, have you seen him?” Maeve gestured with her glass in a vague approximation of Ben’s Captain America-like physique, nearly spilling her wine on the sofa.

“Yes, and you insisted on being just friends with him for ages—which included going out with somebody else.” Naomi’s brows drew down into a small frown. “Did you sleep with him just because you were lonely?”

“No!” Maeve sat straight up and set her glass down on the coffee table. “No. I mean, I was. Some. But also he’s…great. Really great. Kind, and sweet, and supportive. Interesting, too.”

Naomi’s lips thinned. “You know what he did for a living before he became a shitty barista though, right?”

Maeve opened her mouth to defend Ben’s coffee-making skills, then decided not to bother. “Yes. He was a lawyer.”

“A serious shark, Maeve. I Googled him.” Naomi bit her lip. “I used to know a lot of guys like him, back when I still hung out in my parents’ circle. Serious corporate types.”

“That’s not him anymore, Naomi.”

“Really? You think being a barista is going to keep a guy like that happy forever? Has he ever said he plans to stay here? Have you talked about the future at all?”

“Naomi, relax,” Angelica said. “They’ve had one date.”

“And a lot of sex,” Jess piped in helpfully.

Maeve frowned. “Are you ever going to support anybody I choose to be with?”

The other three exchanged glances and she found herself exhaling through sudden pain in her stomach, as though someone had punched her.

“It’s just…we’re concerned,” Angelica said gently.

“The last one—”

Maeve interrupted Jess with a sharp movement of her hand, as though she were karate chopping the memory of Steve Smith away. “The last one was a mistake. We all know that. It doesn’t mean I have indiscriminately bad taste in men!”

“Nobody’s saying you do,” Naomi said sharply. “What I’m saying is that corporate sharks don’t lose their teeth, Maeve. Don’t get bitten.”

It was far too late for that, Maeve thought. Her blood was already in the water. If Ben was circling to devour her, he could have her.

But was Naomi right? She’d blithely assumed their friendship would translate into a relationship that was on its way to becoming permanent. But now that she stopped to consider it, he’d never said he planned to stay in River Hill. And with the first inklings of dread, she recalled how happy he’d been to get his lawyerly mojo back when he’d started working on the Youth Mentors case.

Suddenly, she wondered if she was just a stop on his road back to shark-infested waters. In that moment, she felt like a very, very small fish in a big, dangerous ocean.

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