Page 10 of The Coffee Bar on Camellia Court

"And provolone, right?"

Juno chuckled and nodded. The girl paid attention, and Juno knew it wasn't just to Alex's orders. Poppy was great with all of their customers. She knew people by name, remembered their drinks of choice, was great at suggestions when they didn't know what they wanted, and was adept at upselling a sweet treat with almost every order. Granted, it was hard to say no to her pretty smiling face, but the girl was as genuine as they came, and people liked her for good reason.

"The couple at Table 4 keep looking over here," Juno added with a thrust of her chin in their direction. "Are they waiting for an order?"

"Oh!" Poppy grabbed two tall plastic cups and scooped ice into both. "Yes. Oops. Two cappuccinos for Table 4d coming right up."

The bell above the door chimed and Claire swept in, making a beeline for the counter.

"Hey girl," Juno greeted her. "What are you doing back in here?" Claire rarely made an appearance at Juno's in the afternoons. Business at the bookstore picked up significantly once the day had warmed up enough to send all but the most committed sun-worshippers indoors for a reprieve.

"Can't a girl pay her friend a visit?" Claire asked coyly.

Juno cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at her. Here fishing for an Alex update, Juno was certain. She evaded the question. "And why aren't you sweating in that outfit?" Juno pointed her finger up and down at the gorgeous handmade outfit. Claire sewed all her own costumes. "You're not even dewy."

Claire fluffed her skirts around her knees, layers of crinoline peeking out below the checkered hem of her skirt. "I'm aerated," she quipped.

"You could probably fit one of those little desktop air conditioners under there," Juno teased.

"Now there's an idea." Claire tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I wonder if I could rig up some kind of harness to wear under all of this. Like a Steampunk chastity belt, but instead of a heavy duty lock and key mechanism, a bracket to attach a rechargeable air conditioner. Just plug in and recharge whenever I'm behind the counter."

"You'd have to be careful of the blades, though." Juno went along for the ride, half-believing that Claire was actually contemplating the idea.

"Are you two actually talking about rigging up an air conditioner to wear under a skirt?" Poppy asked, circling around the end of the counter with a tray full of used dishes and trash. "Am I hearing this right?"

Claire nodded, her expression earnest. "Sounds like a great idea, doesn't it?"

Poppy laughed. "You two are wild," she said as she backed through the swinging half-door that led into the kitchen. "I want to be you when I grow up."

Juno shot Claire a lifted brow. "Did she just call us grown-ups?"

"Speaking of grown-ups," her friend segued efficiently. "Give me the scoop on Alex."

Juno let out a sharp "Ha!" then grabbed a cup and saucer and poured a cup of her house roast for Claire. She set it in front of her, followed by a small pitcher of heavy cream, and then pulled out the bar stool they kept shoved under the counter for just such occasions as this. "That man will never grow up."

EightYearsEarlier…

She stood on the sidewalk, hands on her hips, taking in the storefront before her. The "For Sale" sign was coming down today. Juno could hardly believe it—the little coffee shop where she'd worked as a teenager was now hers. Mr. and Mrs. Bellamy had practically given it away, happy to retire and thrilled that someone who'd once worked for them wanted to revive the struggling business.

"You sure about this, honey?" Mr. Bellamy had asked that morning at the bank when she signed the papers. "Things have changed since that resort went up across the way. Folks have gotten a little highfalutin about their coffee, now that the North Shore folk have brought in their artisanal java boutiques, and our little coffee shop on this side of the lake is hardly holding its own." He was a nice man, but she could hear the bitter note under his carefully worded observation.

Little did Mr. Bellamy know that Juno planned to bring her own artisanal java boutique to the south shore, the heart of the small town of Autumn Lake, but she'd never forget who her customers were. She wanted to make her coffee shop a place where the locals hung out, where people came because it was comfortable and friendly and warm and all the things that made it inviting and inclusive.

This shop was exactly what Juno needed—a place with roots, with history.Herhistory. A place where she could plant herself and grow something lasting.

The sign would be the first thing to go. Faded and outdated, just like the rest of the place. The windows needed washing and one of them sported a spiderweb crack in the corner, so that would have to be replaced as soon as possible. The interior needed a complete overhaul.

But underneath all that, she could see what it could become—what she could make it.

"Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit." The voice hit her like a physical blow. Deep, familiar, the edges curling with humor. She turned slowly, heart hammering against her ribs.

Alex Frampton stood on the sidewalk just a few feet away, looking like every dream and nightmare she'd had since leaving Autumn Lake almost a decade ago. Broader shoulders, stubbled jaw, same devastating smile. One he knew how to use to his advantage.

"Juniper Bernice Thomas. Never thought I'd see your pretty face again. At least not here in little old Autumn Lake."

Words stuck in her throat. She'd rehearsed this moment in her head a thousand times—cool, composed, indifferent. Instead, she felt sixteen again, breathless and undone by his mere presence.

"Alex," she managed finally. "You're still here."

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