Page 6 of The Hookup Situation
“Still denying me?” He looks up at me with googly eyes.
“Yes, I am,” I say with a laugh.
I blame his reaction on my genetics. Sometimes, being a ginger goddess is a blessing, and other times, it’s a curse.
At the thought, I glance at my reflection in the espresso machine. My red hair refuses to be tamed, and my eyes—the ones my mother insists on calling “emerald” instead of just green—stare back at me, almost hollow. Freckles multiply across my nose anytime I even think about sunshine. Most guys say I’m intimidating just because I have a sassy mouth and an attitude that matches my hair. Sometimes, I’m exhausted by the attention I receive from men.
“Did you do something different with your hair?” Mike manages, still hovering by the register like he’s afraid to come any closer. “You’re glowing.”
“It’s called downing double espresso shots before nine. Caffeine makes the world go round. But thank you. I appreciate the compliment.”
He orders a simple coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream before he practically runs out of the building.
Mrs. Patrick chuckles. “That boy’s been crushing on you since high school.”
“I know, but I just can’t. Last week, I gave him dating advice andexplained how having confidence is attractive.” I shake my head. “We just need to work on the execution.”
“Mm-hmm,” she says with a nod, but she’s kind enough not to push. “Well, I’d better get going. Garden club is judging autumn arrangements today to decide which ones will be displayed in big potted plants around the town when fall officially kicks off next week. I want to win that title. I’m sick and tired of Patty winning each year. It’s rigged, I tell you! Rigged!”
“Good luck,” I say with a laugh as she leaves, and I’m grateful that the conversation is being dropped.
Five minutes later, when I look over my shoulder, Blaire is smirking at me. And that’s when it’s confirmed she heard every damn word.
“So, Craig is back?” she whispers close to me.
I meet her eyes. “I can’t bang him while he’s here. Seriously. I’m done with him. I’m going on almost a year of no contact.”
“We have to find you a distraction.”
A chuckle releases from me. “Put me next on your love spell list.”
“I’ll make you one tonight,” she says with a wink, and we go our separate ways as the second rush comes in.
When we’re nonstop busy, I lose track of everything.
Four hours later, the shop is practically empty, and there is too much quiet and not enough distraction. Blaire and I clean so we can leave right at three when the afternoon shift comes in.
As I’m emptying and replacing trash bags by the condiment station by the door, I catch sight of a blacked-out Range Rover sliding past the wall of windows. My traitorous heart does a stupid little skip. Lots of people have fancy cars, and hundreds of thousands of people drive through Cozy Creek in September to catch sight of the large pumpkin patch that’s constructed in the middle of the town square.
I work on making the shop sparkle as Blaire stocks everything. Cozy Coffee is my sanctuary, my legacy, my perfectly controlleduniverse, where no one leaves without saying goodbye and everyone gets exactly what they ordered.
“Jules!” Finn Morrison pops his head in, still in his fire chief gear. “Just wanted to warn you, Autumn’s on her way, and she’s got that look.”
“What look?”
“You know the one.”
Autumn is my best friend, my ride or die, who used to work the morning shift with Blaire and me. That is, until she met the love of her life, Zane Alexander, and married him. Now, she lives in a haunted house on top of the hill that overlooks Cozy Creek—Hollow Manor. Sometimes, when I think about it, I can’t help but laugh. That house was the feature of our childhood ghost stories, and now it’s where Autumn calls home.
“Thank you,” I tell him, preparing myself, wondering if Mrs. Patrick ran into her and snitched about Craig being back.
“Uh-oh,” Blaire says, her crystal earrings dangling as I move behind the counter.
“Yeah. Thanks for the support,” I mutter. “If Autumn knows Craig is here, she’s going to track him down and drag him through the town square by the balls.”
Blaire bursts into laughter. “He deserves everything he has coming to him.”
I straighten my apron, tighten my ponytail, and prepare for Hurricane Autumn. At least I know how to handle her.
