Page 61 of Mountain Bean Dream
“And what happens then?” I leaned forward, letting just a hint of something I couldn’t name hang off my words.
He grinned, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, like he wanted to lean closer, too. “Anything and everything,” he said, his finger brushing the tip of my nose. The touch was light—barely there—but the spark it sent through me was anything but. “I leave at ten. Meet me at Merlot then?”
“Thank you,” I said, the words heavier than I expected. Because it wasn’t just about the ride—it was about him, and how being near him made everything feel a little less lonely.
* * *
Forty minutes later, we parked out front of the Coffee Loft. Annie was working the front counter, and Elliot was busy setting boxes down behind the display. The Coffee Loft hummed with quiet energy: the soft clink of mugs on saucers, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the occasional bursts of laughter from the counter. It gave the room a warmth I hadn’t realized I had missed until now.
“It’s a brewtiful day, isn’t it, Molly?” Annie asked with a wink as she set a customer’s order down and moved to the till. “What’ll you have?”
I placed our order without even checking with Jeremy—it was easy to guess, his usual—and insisted on paying, despite his raised brow from across the room. While Jeremy secured his usual corner seat, I chatted briefly with Elliot about the shipment he was unpacking. Or at least, I tried to. My focus kept drifting back to Jeremy.
He unfolded his crossword puzzle, twirling his heat-sensitive pencil like a magician with a wand. Catching me looking, he tilted his head slightly, and a boyish grin spreadacross his face. The innocent way his smile lifted the corners of his eyes sent a flutter through my chest. It was strange, how something so small could feel so significant. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to it.
When our drinks were ready, I brought them over to the table and hesitated, unsure where to sit. Across from him would have been safer, a neat barrier between us, but the thought felt cold. Sitting beside him, though, felt oddly intimate, almost presumptuous. Would he think it was strange? Would other people notice?
Swallowing down my nerves, I plopped into the seat beside him, pretending I didn’t feel like I’d just made a declaration.
“Oh really?” he asked, his tone amused as his eyes flicked to me.
“Well then, this way, I can do this.” I nudged him lightly with my shoulder. Or at least, I thought it was light.
Pain immediately radiated from my elbow, a sharp reminder that my bad arm still wasn’t up for casual jostling. Tingles shot down to my fingertips, and I winced, sucking in a sharp breath.
Jeremy’s expression shifted instantly, amusement giving way to concern. Without a word, he slipped his arm around my back, pulling me closer until I could breathe through the pain. His touch was warm, steadying, and it did more than soothe my arm—it settled something restless in me.
“Not my brightest move,” I admitted, wincing.
“Or,” he teased, his voice low, “you’ll do anything for a touch.”
I managed a weak laugh, trying to brush off the heat creeping into my cheeks. “Are you my Klondike bar now?”
His brow quirked, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What would I do for one?”
“Well,” I said, tapping my cup, “you are pretending to be my boyfriend. That’s kind of sketchy.”
Leaning in slightly, his voice dropped conspiratorially. “Sketchy or not, I’d do a lot more than that if it involved you and ice cream.”
The laugh that bubbled out of me was more of a hiccup, and I quickly took a sip to cover it.
“You’ve got a foam mustache,” Jeremy said, pointing at his own upper lip to illustrate.
I swiped at mine with my tongue. “Gone?”
“Not quite.” His fingers brushed my face, the pad of his thumb skimming just above my lip. The touch was fleeting, but it left a trail of warmth in its wake, like a spark catching dry kindling. My breath hitched, and for a moment, the only thing I could feel was him: the softness of his touch, the heat of his hand lingering, and the way his eyes searched mine it was like he wasn’t sure he should pull away.
“There,” he said, his voice quieter now.
“Thank you,” I murmured, my words barely audible.
Our gazes locked, the space between us shrinking with every second. My pulse raced in my ears, so loud and insistent, that I wondered if he could hear it too.
“My pleasure,” he said softly, and the weight of his words made my chest ache in a way I didn’t fully understand.
A loud clang from behind the counter shattered the moment. Annie had dropped a metal measuring cup into the sink, and the sharp noise yanked us both back to reality. Jeremy leaned back, clearing his throat, while I busied myself with my drink.
“Crossword time?” he asked, tapping the folded paper with his pencil. His other hand rested on my thigh, so casually I might have thought it accidental—if it weren’t for the steady warmth radiating from where he touched me.