Page 4 of Designing Love
“Morning, Mia,” Lucas calls, glancing up from the phone and giving her a decently welcoming smile.
Mia looks up, returning Lucas’ greeting before her eyes drift over to where Claire and I are seated. She offers a big wave, her smile reaching her eyes. “Morning guys. Back from your run, Ethan? Enjoying the quiet, post-tourist season?”
“It’s heaven!”
“What brings you out so early?” Claire asks, curiosity practically glowing in her voice.
Mia holds up the bag sheepishly. “Just grabbing pastries before opening the bookstore.”
“Can’t go wrong starting your day with pastries,” Lucas confirms, returning from the phone call and moving swiftly behind the counter. “But I’m biased.”
Claire chuckles softly. “You can trust Lucas on cinnamon rolls. It’s the only thing he gets right!”
Lucas scoffs and tries to deflect. “How’s the bookstore doing now that tourist season is over?”
“I can’t complain. Locals are avid readers. And I’ve been sneaking in some writing here and there in lull times.” Mia’s smile lights up the room, the same way it always does when she talks about her bookstore.
“Sounds exciting,” I say, enjoying Mia’s enthusiasm.
“It’s as if you love unboxing endless stacks of fantasy novels. Or if you have an unhealthy relationship with packing tape.”
“Well,” Lucas says theatrically, sliding Mia her coffee across the counter. “May your coffee be strong and your tape cooperative.”
“Thanks, Lucas,” Mia says, turning towards the door. “See you around, Claire?”
“Sure thing!” Claire replies, waving.
“Say hi to Oliver?*for me,” I add.
As I’m about to finish my coffee and leave, the door swings open with a gentle chime and my eyes reflexively glance upward. A woman I’ve never seen before steps inside, pausing briefly as if deciding whether she belongs. Immediately, all coherent thought evaporates.
She’s striking in an effortless way. A low, treacherous thrum kicks in behind my ribs — the same flutter I get right before the starting gun of a race. My hand tightens around the mug, heat biting my palm, but I can’t force myself to look away.
Her auburn hair falls in loose waves, shining like threads of copper in the afternoon sun. And then there are those hips. They sway gently when she moves, a natural rhythm that makes it impossible for me to look away. There’s a confidence about her, a quiet self-assurance that radiates from across the room. She’s strikingly voluptuous, all soft curves and gentle lines. Something magnetic in that poised grace leaves me a little spellbound, wondering what it might be like to share a conversation — or even a moment — caught in her orbit.
She surveys the coffee shop with curious eyes. Her lips part slightly as she reads the chalkboard menu behind Lucas, unaware of how she instantly captures my attention.
I grip my mug tightly, suddenly feeling foolishly self-conscious. Claire says something to Lucas, but their words blur into white noise as my focus remains firmly on the new arrival. She’s wearing a loose sweater, sleeves pushed casually up to her elbows.
I’m unreasonably intrigued.
She moves gracefully to the counter, and Lucas offers her a friendly smile. “Morning! Welcome.”
“Good morning,” she replies, her voice smooth yet filled with subtle humor. “My Aunt Sage sent me. She cannot be bothered to have coffee on hand.”
Lucas chuckles, nodding knowingly. “Ah, yes, Sage and her aversion to coffee – what does she say?”
“That it enhances anxiety!”
They both laugh.
“That’s it! Any preference?”
She tilts her head thoughtfully, studying the options as if each drink holds profound life implications. “Something strong enough to survive existential crisis?”
“Coming right up,” Lucas laughs, already busy preparing her coffee. “Take a seat and I’ll deliver your lifeline shortly.”
She nods appreciatively, turning slightly toward the seating area and scanning for an open table. From the corner of my eye, I watch as she settles into a table by the window.
