Page 4 of The Coffee Bar on Camellia Court

"Yeah, gross," Liz echoed. The sarcasm was back in her voice. "Eww. Disgusting."

"You guys are too much." Juno grabbed a drink carrier from off a shelf and put the four lattes Claire had ordered into it. "Your Americano is almost ready."

Across the street, Payton was apparently not getting the response she'd expected. She cocked one hip and pointed at her phone. Alex wiped his brow with a bandana from his back pocket, then gestured at the nearly-finished enclosure he'd constructed. He shook his head, smiled sweetly, then tugged on the same blonde curl Payton had been toying with just a few minutes ago.

Liz let out a sympathetic "Oof," then drained the last of her coffee. "Looks like the show's over. I gotta get going, ladies."

Sure enough, Payton's shoulders slumped as Alex walked her to a Jeep SUV in the salon's parking lot. He held the door open for her, waited for her to climb in, then leaned inside.

"Okay," Claire remarked with a chuckle as she spun on her stool. "Not sure I want to see the rest of that scene."

Liz made a gagging sound, then stood up and pushed a couple of bills into the tip jar on the counter.

Juno had already turned away from the window and was busy with Claire's last drink. She didn't want to see it either. She'd been there once, thinking she was different, special, the one who'd...

No. She was not going down that road again.

The sound of screeching tires got her attention. Alex stood on the sidewalk watching as Payton peeled out of the parking lot. When he turned toward the coffee shop window, Juno quickly looked away.

But not before she saw his big old grin.

That man was trouble with a capital T, and Juno Thomas was done with trouble. No matter how good it looked without a shirt on.

2

Alex

AlexwatchedPayton'sJeepdisappear around the corner, guilt churning in his stomach. Why did they always storm off when he wouldn't drop everything at their beck and call? He worked forty-plus hours a week for J&J Contractors, plus any odd jobs he could pick up on the weekends like this AC enclosure for Sonya. He was on schedule if he kept at it, but he'd be heading straight to the St. James' dock from here, having promised Ward to help replace some of the pilings later today.

Even though he enjoyed the tourists who came for the summer months, he was always glad for Labor Day, knowing life in Autumn Lake would return to normal. The pretty women got him in trouble every year—not because he succumbed to the temptations they offered, but because he wasn't good at saying no. He spent too much time dodging ultimatums and sidestepping conflict.

Lately, it seemed that conflict followed him around like a shadow, wrestling with him in his sleep, and biting at his heels in his waking hours.

The latte from Payton sat untouched on his truck's tailgate, mocking him. Alex had set down his drill long enough to thank the woman for the drink, but when he'd turned down her offer of lunch, Payton had pouted, poking out her bottom lip and planting her hands on her hips. She'd probably stamped her foot, too, although he couldn't remember. When he'd ignored the childish display, and picked up his drill to get back to work, she'd then tried to guilt him into it by telling him she'd been patiently waiting all morning just to be with him. "I thought you said you liked spending time with me."

Well, hehadenjoyed spending time with her that first evening they'd met at Patsy's Pizza. He'd been shooting pool with a couple of friends, she'd come in with some girlfriends, and the two parties had naturally comingled. It had been a good time for all, Alex had thought, and sure, he'd shamelessly flirted with her, but he'd behaved the exact same way toward her two friends, too. Not once, at least in his mind, had he given any of them any indication that he was interested in more than that one evening had entailed.

But last week, she'd hunted him down. Literally. She'd admitted to as much, explaining that she'd asked Will at Patsy's Pizza if he knew how she could get a hold of him, and the dumb kid had told her. Alex couldn't really blame Will, a local high schooler working at the pizza place for the summer. Everyone knew everyone on the south shore, and word of mouth was still considered a failproof method of getting ahold of someone. There was no reason for Will not to share Alex's contact information.

Putting Payton out of his mind, he went back to the white picket enclosure project. He had a few more finishing touches, and if there were no more disruptions, he'd have time to grab a sandwich across the street at Juno's. He'd have to get it to go, but at least he'd get to see her pretty face before he took off.

Movement caught his eye. The Carrols were crossing Camellia Court—Mr. Carrol with his squeaking walker, Mrs. Carrol clutching his arm and chattering away. Like many long-time residents, they'd ignored the crosswalk signal. But coming down Dahlia Drive was a sleek Mazda convertible, driven by a woman in oversized sunglasses who was on her phone, clearly not watching for pedestrians.

"Hey!" Alex shouted, already running, not sure if he was trying to get the Carrols' attention or the woman's. His warning went unheeded by both parties.

The car whizzed past the couple, missing the walker by what seemed like mere centimeters. Mr. Carrol stumbled backwards, dragging his wife with him.

Alex charged into the street. One moment he was on the salon's lawn, the next he was in the crosswalk, one hand bracing the walker, the other around Mrs. Carrol's waist. Mr. Carrol managed to right himself, but Alex stepped in a pothole, his ankle giving out with an unsettling pop. Pain shot up his leg like a hot poker as he went down, pulling Mrs. Carrol on top of him to break her fall.

Then Liz Needham was there, a look of concern on her usually stoic face as she carefully helped Mrs. Carrol up. Alex grunted when the elderly woman bumped his leg. Thank goodness she couldn't weigh more than eighty pounds, he thought, taking slow breaths against the waves of pain that threatened to make him sick.

"Alex? Are—are you hurt?" He'd know that voice anywhere; he didn't even have to open his eyes. But he did. Juno knelt beside him, her hand moving to his shoulder, her dark eyes bright with… fear? Concern? For him, or for the Carrols?.

"Hey," he said, smiling up at her, hoping to quell the worry in her expression. "Give a guy a hand, will you?" His elbow burned where he'd landed on it, and when he shifted, he felt the same searing sensation on his right shoulder. Great. Road rash. Because he'd taken off his shirt.

Juno took his hand, hers soft and strong at the same time, and helped him up. The moment he put weight on his right foot, pain shot through his ankle like a bolt of lightning. But he was up now, and everyone was watching, so he locked his jaw and tried to breathe through it. Maybe if he just stood here long enough, looking casual, they'd all go back to their regular routines. Thank goodness he'd worn his work boots today. They'd give him a little support, at least.

"You're white as a sheet," Juno said quietly, still holding his hand. "And you're crushing my fingers."

---