Page 8 of Mocha Kisses

He nods and rounds the desk, setting a soft hand on my shoulder. “Luna baby. Trust me on this. Not only do you need a new city but I think you’d be perfect.”

“Why aren’t you asking questions about the reason I need a new city? They started calling the office.” Max has never cared that I’m constantly on the move–which doesn’t make a lick of sense considering that most professional jobs are okay with remote work but notrunning from suited goons.The number of times I’ve refused to turn on my camera because of cuts and bruises during a meeting and my horrible lies should have been reason enough to let me go.

He shrugs. “I know what it’s like to run. I knowyouand I know that whatever trouble following you can’t be all your fault. I’m choosing to give you a chance so take it.” When I nod, he continues. “Now, it’s a small little town called Spring Haven and the author is Griffin Solace.”

My heart drops into my stomach and I’m sure he can see my face fall but I want nothing to do with either of those things. I spent 22 years in Spring Haven. The light of my life—Griffin Solace—had given me something to live for aside from my nonexistent father and alcoholic mother. He was my safe place, my support when things got a little too hard. Until I realized that I would be the reason he got hurt.

I thought I could manage the suited goons and still have the life I had been building. One look at that gun six years ago told me differently. I know now that they want me alive, that the weapons are only a threat. However, the offered option of a job–not that they’ve ever explained what it was, just that I was to work for them—has kept me running. I want nothing to do with the men that my father owes money to and any job they’re offering has to both be illegal and dangerous.

It takes a few moments for my brain to catch up as I piece together that Griffin Solace is the tatted bad boy that Yana has been parading around the office. My piece of sunshine? That doesn’t track at all. He was always so sweet and warm and loving. Had my leaving hurt him that much? Or does it have nothing to do with me?

As much as I don’t want to return to Spring Haven, the higher paycheck that comes with being an author’s babysitter is too hard to pass up. Not to mention I’m a little bit selfish, wanting to return and tell Griffin the entire story. We’ll never be able to be together again but at least I can show him that I never wanted to leave.

His 22-year-old worried expression as I left him by the bleachers that day still burns brightly in my mind. I hate remembering how I left him, without even a true goodbye, without feeling his body against mine one last time. Griffin won’t forgive me but I have to tell him the truth.

“Luna baby, I can see the turmoil in your expression. I thought it might give you a chance to deal with whatever is going on. You also know him. Hey! Sue me for doing a little research. You’re right there in your yearbook photos together. Solace. St. Claire. I was looking for information about him and found you. Tell me you don’t want it and I’ll hand it off to one of the others.”

Do I want this?

“Did he request me?”

Max shakes his head. “He doesn’t even know you specifically are coming. I had a very serious phone call that the next person I send should be focused solely on the book or they’re pulling out.”

My eyes grow wide because while I know contracts aren’t cheap at Shepard’s Press, Griffin Solace brings in a lot of money. Losing his work might upend the company.

I can put our shared past behind us and focus only on his book. Ithink.

“Okay, I’m in.”

“Great. I’ve emailed you a plane ticket and a reservation for a rental car.”

“How did you know that I was going to say yes?”

“One look at you yesterday and I knew you’d jump at the chance to move. Fix whatever it is, Luna.”

That’s easier said than done but I’ll take this opportunity for a little reprieve. Maybe Griffin won’t even remember me.

Luna

Eighthourslater,I’mstepping off the tail end of my transport. The second plane of the day landed in a small airport a few streets over from my hometown, the familiar smell of fresh pie and cinnamon rolls hitting my nose. Spring Haven had a few good memories, most notably the fresh bakery a few streets over from my childhood home. Just by the aroma, I assume it’s still there which will be my second stop, right after I stop by the bed and breakfast to get the keys to my room.

Grabbing the rental Max reserved for me, I make my way down the small streets, parking the car just outside of the small bed and breakfast. All of the memories come rushing back at me and I wince, trying to stuff them back down. Even the streets are the same, a little more cracked and worn from years of use, but the same nonetheless. The buildings along the strip through the middle of Spring Haven haven’t changed much, either. However, it’s easy to see the wear and tear that years of love and weather have done to this quiet town. Except for a few businesses I don’t recognize, everything is the same.

It’s like stepping back into a piece of history.

I’m weary about exploring a place I vowed never to come back to but it’s just after 6 pm and with nothing else to do than rot in my room, I decide to give it a try. My conversation with the landlord is short. I vaguely remember her but she doesn’t recognize me which I take as a blessing when she offers me my room key.

The room is nice enough and the sheets remind me of someone’s grandmother’s house with all of the frilly decorations. The light blues and soft yellows help me relax before I take a shower and run downstairs for a cup of coffee.

My bag is firmly attached to my back, just in case I have to pick up at a moment’s notice. It’s an odd sight but I’ve gotten used to pushing past social norms. I look like I’m on the run half the time and all the other times, I just look uncomfortable. As long as my oddities keeps me safe, I don’t really care.

The coffee waiting for me downstairs is better than nothing even though it smells stale. I keep my head down, eyes peeled for anyone who looks out of place as I shuffle toward the machine. Granted, the only one who doesn’t fit into this small town is me.

“Yeah, here you go Ms. Elrod. Fresh out of the oven.”

A squeal sounds from the counter a few feet away from where I’m standing. “This is wonderful! To go with my coffee-”

The man grunts. “You know I brought you one of those too. No way am I going to let you drink the stuff your husband buys. He should know better!”

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