“This part right here,” she pointed out, making sure he caught every word, “is where you want to give it a little nudge.”
Mark nodded, squinting like he was trying to see the machine’s soul. He listened intently, tucking away her tips for when she’d leave and he’d be alone with the beast again. “You make it sound so simple.”
Emily gave him a grin. “That’s because it is, at least after you’ve been doing it as long as I have.”
“I think you scared the machine into behaving,” Mark said, watching the espresso flow smooth and dark.
“That’s because it knows who’s boss,” she teased with a mischievous grin that matched the sly arc of her brow. She handed over a cup of coffee for him to sample.
Mark took the cup, savoring the rich hazelnut aroma before taking a sip. The coffee was perfect—rich, bold, with a silky finish. He looked at Emily with newfound respect. “I suppose I have a lot to learn from you then.”
Emily leaned against the counter with a playful grin. “You won’t be a rookie for long. Give it a week, and you’ll be pulling shots like a pro.”
“That’s reassuring,” Mark replied, his voice tinged with genuine gratitude and a hint of amusement. “I’m used to jumping into deep waters, but this is a whole different kind of challenge.”
“Well, coffee’s deep in its own way,” Emily quipped. “Just less literal swimming required.” She paused for a moment, then added thoughtfully, “Though I guess in both cases, it’s about keeping your head above water.”
Mark chuckled softly at the comparison, an amused sound that seemed to fill the cozy shop. As he took another sip of his steaming coffee, the tight coil of tension that came with entrepreneurship unraveled ever so slightly. The warmth of the mug seeped into his hands, adding to the sense of relaxation. Emily’s presence, like a gentle balm, brought an unexpected comfort, her personable demeanor and reassuring smile creating a peaceful oasis in the midst of his hectic new life.
Emily backed away from the machine, wiping her hands on a towel. She looked at him like maybe she’d say something more, but she closed her mouth and brushed a stray strand of her black hair behind her ear instead.
“You know,” he said, his voice steady but sincere with gratitude, “I’m really glad you’re here to help. Joe told me great things about your work back in Hero, and I have no doubt you’ll do just as good here with us.”
She flashed him a grin. “Thank you, Mark. I’m excited to be a part of this team and help make a difference in Faith Valley.”
She set to work, organizing the training area and gathering materials for the next day’s session. As she moved around the shop, he couldn’t help but reflect on his first impressions of Emily. Her passion for helping heroes start anew struck a chord within him, and he admired her dedication.
As she prepared the last stack of handouts for the baristas, Mark stood there, trying to process the weird knot in his gut. Her presence filled the room, whether she was standing right beside him or not. Mark found himself more focused on Emily than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t sure if it made things easier or more complicated.
Emily slipped her leather jacket back on and tossed her bag over her shoulder. “Well, that does it for today. I’ll see you in the morning to get ready for the afternoon training.”
“Sure,” he said with a nod. “See you then.”
“Maybe,” she teased, with a final salute with her keys before heading out the door.
He caught sight of Emily through the window, his interest piqued despite himself. She strolled across the parking lot, each step casual and full of confidence, then stopped by a motorcycle, its chrome glinting in the late afternoon sun.
Mark leaned against the counter, unable to tear his eyes away as she flicked back her hair—a motion so fluid it almost looked rehearsed—right before she placed her helmet on her head and swung her leg over the seat. The motorcycle revved to life, and he couldn’t help but be impressed by how at home she looked, both on the bike and in his coffee shop. It was a dangerous combination, one that he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with.
Emily sped off, leaving a trail of dust and intrigue in her wake, adding a sense of mystery to her abrupt departure. The shop, once filled with her vibrant energy, now felt eerily silent, the only sound being the faint hum of the overhead lights. Mark stood there, exhaling a long-held breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as if he had been waiting for a storm to pass.
Mark tried to focus on the invoices scattered across thecounter. It was like trying to ignore a firecracker going off in a trash can. Emily was hard to miss. He had half a mind to chase her down and ask her to go to dinner with him. That left him with half a mind to spare, which was about all he could afford with the mountain of paperwork in front of him.
Mark shifted his gaze, trying to concentrate. The coffee shop needed him all in, not distracted and definitely not tangled up in thoughts about a certain brunette. Her “maybe” was stuck in his head like a catchy tune. He found himself wondering what it would sound like to have her say “yes” to him if he asked her out on a date. Emily was trouble wrapped in a shiny package, and he knew it was best if he kept their relationship professional.
With a reluctant sigh, Mark tried to lose himself in the work that was piling up. It was safer and cleaner. But as he picked up a pen, he knew that the rest of his evening was going to be a battle between numbers on a page and the vivid memory of Emily’s laughter echoing through the shop.
After fighting himself for an hour, he decided it was best to clean up and focus on something else. His truck rumbled to life under his steady hands. It was a short drive to the lake, a ritual he’d clung to like a lifeline. Mark parked by the water, climbed out of his vehicle and made his way over to the water that stretched out before him. It was a calm contrast to the chaos he was feeling inside.
Stripping off his shirt, Mark felt the chill of the night air, a prelude to the shock he craved. He needed this, the simplicity, the control.
His dive was a clean arc, a muscle memory from days when his life was nothing but water and speed. The cold hit him like a wall, and Mark welcomed it. It pushedeverything else aside, even the thoughts he didn’t want but couldn’t stop.
He surfaced, took a breath, and settled into a rhythm. Each stroke was measured and precise, matching the deliberation of his thoughts. Emily. The shop. The life he was building and the parts he left behind.
Mark knew he was attracted to her. How could he not be? But the feeling tangled up with so much else. Emily was light and laughter, a free spirit that contrasted with his rooted, grounded nature. She wasn’t something he had planned for, and that terrified him.
His strokes cut through the water, but his thoughts weren’t so easily parted. Emily kept gnawing at the edges of his thought, unrelenting.