Page 21 of Common Grounds

“Do you want to do this? It wouldn’t be… you know…” I swallow heavily, looking around at the table of people staring at me. “Awkward?”

Trevor’s features slowly stretch into a smile. It’s warm and comforting. Soft, like the night we met. I’m almost embarrassed to have everyone watching. There’s no way they can’t tell that smile is special for me. It makes my heart flutter in my chest.

“Maybe,” he admits. “But I could use the help with this place.”

I rub my suddenly-sweaty hands on my thighs. This could be exactly what I need to get out of this funk and kickstart my career back in the direction I want it to go. That is, if I can keep a tight lid on whatever feelings his smile is giving me.

“Okay,” I say slowly. Everyone in the room breathes collectively in excitement. “I’ll pitch it tomorrow, but there’s no guarantee he’ll go for it.”

“At this point”—Trevor waves, indicating the otherwise empty shop, then settles his intense gaze on me—“I’ll take my chances.”

Chapter ten

Trevor

Once it’s decided that Emery is going to be writing these articles, everyone clears out at the speed of light. Her sister chipmunks her second muffin in her cheeks, mouthing around the crumbs that she’ll call Emery later. Vi and Emery’s male coworker have twin twinkles in their eyes as they all file out the door, with the young woman taking up the rear.

Mike steps to the counter and leans in, mumbling, “You can thank me later.” I grumble at him under my breath, but he leaves just as quickly.

And then, we’re alone.

Emery is standing in the middle of the shop looking lost. Well, no, she doesn’t look lost, exactly. I can tell she’s trying her hardest not to show any signs of uncertainty. But she’s clenching her jaw a little too tightly, and her movements are stiff as she watches me come around the counter.

I try to smile comfortingly at her, but she seems to freeze. I guess that wasn’t the right move, then.

“I’m glad you ended up here,” I say quietly. The truth would be closer to me being ecstatic. Elated. Overjoyed. But she looks like she wants to bolt, so I don’t want to overdo it.

She clears her throat and rummages through her bag, eventually producing a small notebook and pen. She sets them on the table and sits as she says, “Yes. Well. I’ll need some information from you for my pitch if that’s okay.” She flips the notebook open to a new page and writes something at the top, all while avoiding my eye contact.

“Oh.” I don’t mean to sound disappointed, but I’m afraid it comes off that way. I push off the counter and walk toward the front of the shop. “Sure. Of course. Let me just lock up.” I can feel her eyes on me as I walk toward the door. I flip both the deadbolt and the sign and take an extra second to collect myself, rubbing my palm against my yellow hat, shifting it slightly on my head.

When I turn back toward her, she quickly looks back to her notebook. But from the flush of her cheeks, I can tell she had been looking at me. Maybe checking me out from behind?

Hey, a guy can dream.

I cross the distance to her table but remain standing, resting my hand on the worn wood of the chair across from hers. When she realizes I’m not going to sit down, she looks up.

“Can I get you another drink? Or a muffin, maybe?” I offer. Then, I smirk. “We don’t have the appliances to make waffles, but we do have whipped cream.” A little teasing never hurt anyone, right?

She arches an eyebrow, and my mischievous grin deepens. Her face remains stone as she taps the mug still sitting in front of her, then waves at the chair wordlessly.

I let out a low whistle as I sink into the chair. “Not one for words tonight, sreco?”

Her eyes snap to mine, but her expression still gives nothing away. “I just need to know a few basic things about your shop, and then I’ll be on my way,” she intones with absolutely zero emotion.

I pinch my eyebrows together slightly and study her for a moment. She sits straighter under my scrutiny and presses her lips together. I tilt my head, then figure I might as well address the unspoken. “Did I do something to make you mad?”

She blinks rapidly several times, the first sign of visible emotion I’ve seen since her friends left. “No. What makes you think that?”

“Seriously?” I raise my eyebrows. When she doesn’t respond, I blow out a puff of air and shift my beanie back and forth on my head again. “You’re… Okay, I don’t mean any offense by this, truly.” I raise my hands, palms out. “Which I know means I’m about to say something offensive, but you’re acting like you wish you didn’t know me. And you definitely know me.” My voice unintentionally drops a register. I try to own it with a grin, hoping it comes off as sexy and not awkward.

She frowns. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

Well, not anymore. My smile falls, and I’m sure I’m staring at her with a dazed look. “Uh,” I stutter. “I thought—”

“Look, I didn’t mean to come in here today. I think you probably caught that. I had no idea this place was even here let alone that you owned it.” She chews on the end of her pen. “I’m fully aware that your friend probably suggested this in part to throw us together like he did at the bar the other night, but the pitch is not a bad idea, and if my boss goes for it, it could really help me out.”

“If it does go viral, it could be a miracle for me,” I say earnestly.

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