Page 19 of There’s Trouble Brewing

“Must be why we get along so well,” he teased with a grin.

Their hands brushed against each other’s as they worked together folding the banner, causing sparks of electricity to shoot up Mark’s arm. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but he liked the way it felt. The air was thick with the electricity, and he found himself drawn closer to her, more than he intended—maybe more than he shouldhave let himself be. But Emily had let him in this far, and he wasn’t about to let fear set the pace—not this time.

Emily’s small frame was leaning in, the warmth of her skin enticing him. Her dark eyes were searching his so honestly, so openly, that Mark felt a swift kick of emotion he wasn’t prepared for. Just a few more inches, and then his lips could taste hers...

But before it could happen, Sue popped into the empty booth, and they scattered like leaves. “I forgot my sweater,” the barista said, her eyes narrowing as she glanced between them as if assessing what was going on.

Mark looked at Emily out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure out how she was handling the abrupt interruption. She was looking around, then yanked up the sweater, saying, “Here it is.”

Sue reached out and took it. “Thanks. I’ll just let you two get back to whatever you were just doing.” And as quickly as she arrived, she ducked out, leaving them alone.

Mark and Emily shared an amused look. The laughter that bubbled up felt natural, cleansing almost after the tension.

“She seems to think she knows something,” Emily chuckled.

“Yeah,” Mark agreed, his voice low, tinged with a regret he couldn’t entirely hide. “We seem to be pretty good at getting interrupted.”

“Maybe the universe is telling us we need better timing.”

“Or maybe,” Mark countered, taking a daring step to close the distance between them, “it’s telling us to be a bit more persistent.”

Her smile was all the encouragement he needed. He reached out, tentatively at first, to tuck a stray lock of hairbehind her ear. His fingers lingered near her cheek, the contact sending a fresh wave of electricity through him.

“Persistent, huh?” Her gaze locked on his with an intensity that made his heart pound against his chest.

“Definitely persistent,” he affirmed softly.

Just as they leaned in once more, determined not to be thwarted this time, Emily’s phone buzzed loudly in her pocket. They both groaned but laughed at the absurdity of their situation.

She pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen. Her smile faltered as she quickly flicked the screen off. “It’s nothing, but I think it’s a sign we should probably call it a night.”

As they stood there, the moment of intimacy interrupted by the intrusion of reality, a quiet understanding passed between them. They both knew that the moment was slipping away as the magic of the evening faded into the cool night air.

Emily took a step back, breaking the charged atmosphere that had surrounded them. “I should probably go.”

He nodded, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before he masked it with a smile. “Yeah, probably for the best.”

Emily gave him a small smile, saying, “Good night, Mark,” before turning around and walking away.

“Good night, Emily,” he called out after her retreating figure.

As regrets filled his head, he released a weary sigh and completed the task of packing the final remnants of the booth. He had to accept that some moments were destined to linger incomplete, leaving him with nothing but what-ifs and almosts to console him.

Chapter Seven

The espresso machine released steam in a lively swirl, asserting its presence with a powerful rhythm. Emily ignored it and focused on the cup in front of her, a badge taking shape beneath the precise flick of her wrist. The counter was littered with evidence of past failures, but she was too stubborn to give up. She’d nail it, no matter how many attempts it took, because she wanted this to be the signature topper for this Brave Badge location.

The shop was quiet at this hour, with only the low hum of appliances softly vibrating through the air and the faint, lingering scent of fresh paint from the recent remodel. Despite the inevitable headaches that accompanied such transformations, she found a deep satisfaction in this moment—the sight of everything coming together.

The enticing aroma of a warm breakfast finally coaxed her gaze away from her work, and she found Mark standing there. His broad shoulders nearly filled the entire doorway, creating a striking silhouette against the morning light as heheld a takeout bag in hand.

“I knew you’d skip breakfast,” he said, setting the bag on the counter and grinning at her.

She arched an eyebrow, still holding the milk pitcher in one hand. “You think I’m that predictable?”

“I think you’re that obsessed with work,” he teased with his blue eyes twinkling.

Emily tried to frown, but a smile betrayed her. “And here I thought I was spontaneous and mysterious.”

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