Page 6 of The Barista's Beloved

She smiled briefly as she started up the car. He’d been almost as embarrassed as she was. At the very least, maybe she’d come out of this humiliating incident with a friend who wouldn’t try to set her up with everyone she met.

Home at last, she changed into soft pajama pants and a tank top but was still too wired to sleep. The adrenaline rush from blurting out that she was going to go have sex with a stranger in front of her closest friends was taking a long time to wear off, apparently.

She pulled out her laptop and checked her email. At another friend’s request, Jess had sent their group of friends a close-up of her wedding ring—something that had been in Sean’s family for generations. The Amorys had run River Hill’s finest bakery since the town had been founded. Sean was a fairly big deal in town, and Jess was madly in love with him even though her own family, also local, were a little dubious. Maeve was pretty sure they’d come around soon. Sean adored Jess with an intensity that sometimes shocked Maeve. Noah and Angelica, and her brother Iain and Naomi, were certainly in love, but Sean needed Jess.

What would it be like to be needed that way?she wondered, feeling a strange ache in her breastbone.

She shook her head. It would probably be exhausting. She didn’t have time to take care of somebody else like that. She wanted to be with a man who could stand on his own, and who would appreciate that she could do the same. She’d moved to an entirely new country and started up a successful business in a field that women often didn’t earn any recognition in. She was damned successful, and she knew, in time, somebody out there would appreciate that.

In the meantime…she flicked open a new browser tab and typed in ‘volunteer opportunities in River Hill.’ She didn’t need to get laid. She needed to stay busy.

* * *

The next day,Maeve went to lunch at Frankie’s. It was a standing date, as she and Max were still trying to work out the details of the wedding present they were jointly getting Sean and Jess. She braced herself for Max’s judgement about what had happened last night, but he just gave her a worried glance and moved swiftly to presenting the information he’d gathered.

They were creating a joint family tree for the Amorys and the Casillas-Moores that would be brought to life by an artist Max knew on a huge piece of reclaimed wood that would fit beautifully on the wall above the sofa in the couple’s living room. He was researching the Amorys, while Maeve was conspiring with Jess’s grandmother to obtain more information about her family. All told, the gift would take several months to complete, but they knew Sean and Jess would love it once it was done. Currently, they’d made it through the information they’d each collected, and Maeve was halfway through her salad before Max cleared his throat.

“Nothing happened,” she said without looking up from the cucumber she was chasing across her plate.

“I wasn’t—”

“I’m serious.” She met his eyes. “He walked me to my car, and we chatted about how extremely awful you all are, and then I went home.”

Max blew out a breath. “Okay.”

She was obscurely offended at this easy acquiescence, even though she’d been grateful to have the whole embarrassing affair over with before it began. “What, I’m not good enough for your friend?”

“More the opposite, actually.” He smiled wryly. “I’ve known Ben since we were kids. He’s… probably not what you’re looking for.”

“I’m not looking for anything,” she said. “Except a new volunteer opportunity. Look at this.” She slid her phone across the smooth copper bar top, and he caught it reflexively.

“Another one?”

She frowned. “I have plenty of time. I don’t overcommit.” If there was one thing her father had drilled into all of his children, it was the importance of time management. Whiskey took patience.

He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Just look, Max. It’s a nonprofit that does mentoring for at-risk youth who are interested in entrepreneurship. They set up one-on-one interviews for the kids with local business owners.”

He glanced at her phone. “They could use a new website.”

“They’re right in town.” She plowed on. “I was thinking I could volunteer both as a mentor and in the office, help them get a little more organized. And maybe you could—”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Talk to a kid who wants to be a chef? Anytime.” Max smiled at her, and she remembered with a start how handsome he was—even if he didn’t do it for her, she could appreciate sexy when she saw it.

They would never be more than friends, and she was perfectly fine with that. In fact, it was kind of nice having someone other than her brother here in River Hill looking out for her. She’d always be thankful to Max for letting Iain crash in the apartment over his garage when he’d first arrived in town.

Ben lived there now, she remembered. The thought of her new friend made her smile. A barely-passable barista wasn’t going to be much help in mentoring at-risk youth, but she had a feeling he’d be supportive when she told him about it.

Wait, what?Telling him about her idea required her seeing him again.

It appeared some part of her brain had already decided that was going to happen. For coffee, of course, she quickly told herself. After all, he’d invited her, and she was going to take him up on it. Who was she to turn down free coffee?

“I just think maybe you’re doing the right thing for the wrong reason,” Max was saying.

She snapped back to attention, the image of Ben’s muscled forearms holding a cup of coffee fading from behind her eyes. “Excuse me?”

His lips thinned as he handed her phone back. “You’ve volunteered at the pet shelter, the library, the tourism board, and now this.”

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