“Anything else? I’m getting a scone or a piece of pumpkin bread. Or maybe a cheese Danish. Anything sound good?”
“Yes,” she drawled on a long sigh.
“Which?”
Summer giggled. “All of it. And grab extra napkins.”
He looked surprised for all of a second and then shrugged. Saluting, he turned her toward the table, leaned in, and spoke close to her ear. “Grab us some real estate, Summer.”
Unless she was hallucinating, he either patted her ass or bumped into her when people jostled them.
Taking a quick breath to bolster her confidence, she zigzagged the café dining room and placed her purse on the empty table. It was next to the window but close enough to the gas fireplace to feel some of the ambient warmth.
She watched him make his way through the order line. He waited patiently. When it was his turn at the counter, he engaged the barista, and at one point, his head tilted back when he laughed.
Taking a chance on a complete stranger might not be her brightest move, but Summer couldn’t help feeling there was something different, something special about the big, scruffy blond with the enormous feet and devilish smile. So, in a way, there was no other choice but to allow the strange encounter to play out. She had to know more—find out who he was and why he was so compelling.
A giggle shook her when he made his way from the counter to the table. He carried two very large drinks while a store employee followed behind with a veritable armload of food. He must have taken her seriously when she said she wanted it all.
How cute!
“For the pretty lady,” he announced in a witty drawl, “one venti hot chai latte topped with a gargantuan mound of whipped cream and a light sprinkle of cinnamon powder.”
Placing the beverage on the table, he teased her about the nutritional content. “According to the phone app, there’s a startling number of carbs.”
She blew him off with a snort. “Pfft. Whatever.”
His chuckle and grinning reaction came off as very pleased.
The server laid out an assortment of goodies, handed off a stack of napkins, and told them to enjoy before rushing off.
When Arnie went to take the chair across from her, she shook her head and patted the long, cushioned banquette. “Sit here, it’ll be more fun.”
He looked skeptical but did as she asked.
Totally invading his personal space, she crowded close and peered at his drink. “What’d you get?”
“Boring dark roast. Extra sugar, though,” he admitted somewhat bashfully. “An old habit that I find hard to break.”
“I dislike coffee. As a drink,” she quickly amended. “Love it as a mood setter. There’s something familiar and comforting about the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen.”
“Coffee as an air freshener.” He nodded and laughed. “I like how you think.”
He did? Well, damn! In that case, she might as well keep babbling.
“Those pod machines are fast and convenient, but they don’t bring the same mood. There’s no aroma—nothing wafting in the air to trigger the senses. I like the old way, I guess,” she added with a shrug.
“Experiences are important,” he agreed. “Our senses account for most memories. If I think about it, I can remember what my father’s breakfast coffee smelled like.”
He reached into the pile of treats and pulled a thick slice of lemon pound cake toward him. “Hand me a napkin,” he said and then split the cake in two and handed her half.
Summer eagerly accepted. When she took a bite, the moist cake filled her mouth with buttery lemon goodness and sweet icing. She followed it up with a few swigs of the hot chai.
“Mmm, nutritionally questionable but oh, so yummerific.”
Arnie chuckled. “Yummerific. I like it, and I really like this cake,” he emphasized with a smirk.
A woman across the room caught Summer’s attention. She casually elbowed the man at her side. “See that lady? In the purple zip-up hoodie? I betcha she’s a writer.”
He looked up and followed her gaze. They stared at the woman in silence for thirty long seconds.
“What makes you think so?”
She caught the tone in his voice. He was genuinely curious—not about the woman but about Summer’s thought process.
Sipping her drink, she relaxed against the back of the comfy seating and angled her body toward her engaging companion.
“She keeps opening and closing her laptop. There is an empty cup next to the one she’s sipping from. When she unzips the hoodie, you’ll see her T-shirt says Bitch Goddess. Her hair