Page 95 of For Keeps. For Always.

“The shop is pretty busy this morning and you two look like you could do with a quiet space to catch up.”

I look at Brooks and then at the man again. I’d guess he’d be in his late thirties, clean-cut and excessively handsome.

“Do you work here?” Brooks tests cautiously.

The stranger smiles. “My wife does.” He points at the pretty barista, watching him in curiosity. “When I can manage it, I work from here so I can glance at her throughout the day.”

I smile. “That’s sweet.”

He shrugs. “I’m here early enough to snag that spot in the back corner.” He gestures behind him. “You guys take it. It seems you could use the quiet.”

Brooks pulls me into his side. “Thanks . . .”

“Tripp.” The man extends his hand. “And you’re welcome. I’ll just move my stuff.”

“Take a seat, Squirrel. I’ll order for us.”

I follow the kind man to his seat, watching as he collects his things.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

He glances up at me. “What’s your name?”

I clear my throat. “Henley.”

“Pretty name. Henley, I’ve learned through experience that kindness from a stranger can sometimes be the push you need in life. You and your friend look like you could use a bit of kindness.”

I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

He winks and disappears, moving toward the barista to kiss her before sitting down on the seat Brooks had occupied only moments prior.

“Cool place, yeah?”

I look up at Brooks, taking the coffee he hands me with a nod of my head. “Nice people, too.”

“We must have looked a mess for him to give us his seat.”

I laugh lightly. “It wouldn’t be hard to tell we’re broken.”

His eyes settle on me for longer then comfortable. A stare I should look away from but can’t find it in me to do.

Opening his mouth to speak, he pauses mid-exhale, closing his mouth, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Mixology?” he questions after a beat.

I wait a moment, afraid he’ll continue. That he’ll work up the courage to say what he’d originally wanted.

“I’ve started chasing the top-rated courses through the world. I finished one in Germany a few months ago. Rome a few months before that.”

“And now New York.”

“And now New York,” I confirm. “It starts in a few weeks. Just exploring the city beforehand.”

He shifts closer, elbows resting on the table. “What’s the game plan with the courses?”

Lifting my shoulders to my earlobes, I tip my bottom lip in dismissiveness, not willing to divulge my dreams. “I have a few ideas, but I’m just doing my research, perfecting my signature before I consider taking a leap. What about you?”

“I haven’t seen Mom or Dad in years,” he admits. “I told them I’d visit. I started in Colorado and couldn’t bring myself to keep on to Lake Geneva, so I took a job in New York.”

“I get that,” I whisper.

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