Page 16 of A Dash of You

Okay, thatwasnice.

“I’ll have to thank him next time I see him.”

“You can thank him tonight when you come out with us. No where crazy, just the town pub.” She flashes her whites.

I lean against the counter, taking a sip of the caffeine goodness. “I don’t know, Lana. I don’t want to intrude. Third wheel much?”

“No way. It wouldn’t be like that at all. Please say you’ll come.”

Of course, I want to hang out with Lana. I haven’t spent time with her in so long. Staying here meant socializing. With it being a small town, everyone seems to know each other’s business. I don’t want to be categorized as the new snob.

“Okay fine.”

“Yes! I can’t wait. It’s been tough around here. I’ve been so busy at the art studio I haven’t really had time for friends, but you’re here now and it’s going to be so much fun.” She hugs me, wishing me good luck.

I drain the rest of my unfinished coffee and head out, not wanting to show up late on my first day.

To say I’m overly confident is an understatement. But even with the familiarity with the recipes, being in a new kitchen slowed me down. Like hours. It’s now nine and I’m behind. Way behind. My first batch of orange scones flew off the shelf. Technically, the second batch, but the first batch was uneatable. I loved Frank and Shelby already, but their oven is from the seventies. It had to be, and the temperature is so wonky and difficult to work with.

I sigh, looking around for the extra flour. And… I can’t find it.

Shelby’s up front preparing an order of coffee, when I approach her.

“I think we’re out of flour.”

“Shoot. I was supposed to go a few days ago but I’ve had so much on my mind I must have forgotten.” She finishes the order she was working on, then gives it to the smiling customer. “I’ll run to the market and grab some. Just take over here.”

“I don’t mind going, so you can stay.”

“Alvin doesn’t take kindly to new faces. He’ll refuse to give you a discount and times are, well, a little tough.”

Damn. Tough crowd.

“But I don’t know how to work the register and I’m not sure how to make the orders.”

“No worries, darling. The register doesn’t work. Just write everything down in this book here.” She holds up a spiraled notebook. “Has all the drinks and how to make them.”

I blink in shock. “Um, Shelby, it might not be any of my business, but don’t you think it’d be a lot easier with a working register instead of writing everything down? Doesn’t that take a lot of your time?”

“Sadly, yes. But we can’t afford new equipment right now.” She pats my hand like always and rushes out, leaving me here while her husband is taking orders of his own.

Okay. I can do this. I’ve shaken my ass in the laps of dirty old men. Coffee is something I can make.

While I familiarize myself with the basics by flipping through the order book, my first customer arrives. Without looking up, I detect their presence and my skin turns hot, as if my body recognized the towering shadow.

Logan.

I haven’t been this close to him since offering my special brownies. Last night doesn't count because it was dark, and a railing separated us. From here, I can easily reach up and touch him. Not that I’m going to because that’s fucking weird.

I peer up at him, forgetting how to speak. He catches me off guard by being here. But wow, he looks good. He always looked good. He’s wearing his work shirt, which hugs his biceps, and a pair of Levi jeans. Simple. Basic. But somehow, he rocks it like a model. And that damn hat.

“Logan.” I nod, flashing a friendly smile. “What can I get ya?”

“Just a plain coffee. Cream. No sugar.”

Cream. No sugar… Cream.

I swallow the lump forming in the back of my throat. I’m not a nervous person, but he makes me a mess. It's not what I'd call a crush but more of a physical attraction because a woman knows a sexy man when she sees him, and Logan isthedefinition.

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