Page 8 of Sexpresso Night

He pushed away from the counter and moved around the glass display case full of pastries, and his eyes fell on her.

Danya.

Sitting there at the window counter, all by herself for a change.

His heart stuttered and his feet stopped moving as if suddenly he’d stepped into thick mud.

She sat with her legs crossed, long bare legs, a tiny denim skirt riding high on her thighs, and a pink sequined flip flop dangling from the top foot. Her chin rested on her hand, her elbow on the counter, and she stared at the dark window.

He blinked, straightened his shoulders and strode across the room toward her, his cupping preparations forgotten.

“Hey.” He stopped beside her and she gave a little start. Her big green eyes flew up to his.

“Oh. Hi!”

The instant smile told him there was something there on her side of things too, and he warmed inside.

“Where are your friends tonight?”

“I have no idea.” Her smile faded just a bit. “I was just out walking and remembered that you’d said to uh…come on Saturday night. So I thought I’d check it out.”

“Awesome. Glad you did.”

They eyed each other and heat built between them as if they were standing next to his micro roaster.

“You okay?” Once again, she wasn’t her usually breezy, sunny self.

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay. I’m great, actually.” One corner of her mouth deepened. “I just broke up with my boyfriend.”

He knew he should say he was sorry. That was the right thing to say at that kind of news, any kind of bad news, but the truth was, he wasn’t in the least sorry. In fact he kind of felt like cheering. Pumping a fist. Grinning.

The smile pulled at his mouth and he tried to push the words out but what came out instead was, “I’m glad to hear that.”

She blinked at him. “You are?”

Idiot. But what the hell. He leaned closer. “He obviously wasn’t making you happy.”

“How do you know that?”

He waved a hand. “We baristas hear a lot.”

Her slender, dark-gold eyebrows slanted down. “You eavesdrop on customers?”

He gave her a look. “You were standing at the counter talking about how unhappy you were with him last Sunday. Everyone could hear.”

“Oh yeah.” She made a face.

“Plus, you’ve said things that have made me wonder.”

Her smile relaxed. “I guess I have.”

“So. It’s for the best, right? And you picked a good night to come. In about…” He tipped his left wrist to glance at his watch. “Damn. In about half an hour we’re doing a cupping.”

“A what?”

Did she know there was another meaning to that word? Was that why the spark flared in those witchy-green eyes?

“Cupping. We’re going to taste different coffees and learn all about them. Like a wine tasting.”

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