Page 41 of Trusting You
“Was that Grace Hawkins? I think she was friends with my sister in school.”
“Yeah. She is married to Billy Forte. She owns the fitness studio on Water Street now. These outdoor boot camps are super popular.”
Her eyes traveled up the street where several senior citizens were lagging behind the main group. “I can see that. I’m glad things haven’t changed in Havenport. If people weren’t running charity road races and brewing kombucha in their backyards, I’d be concerned.”
“Yup. The elderly population continues to put us young guns to shame every chance they get. It also doesn’t help that a few of them could drink me under the table.”
“I wish I could say I didn’t believe you, but I’ve seen my grandmother and Nonna Riccio put away sambuca.”
I grabbed her by the elbow and steered her into High Tide Coffee. An old-fashioned storefront on Main Street, it was already wall to wall with customers needing their morning caffeine fix. As a town in Massachusetts, Havenport was obligated to have at least two Dunkin Donuts, and there was a Starbucks off the highway. They mostly attracted the tourists, while locals came to High Tide to caffeinate, gossip, and eat Miss Betty’s award-winning scones with clotted cream. High Tide was owned by Leah and Dave Bell, a punk couple in their midforties. They were covered with tattoos and piercings, and Leah had purple hair. They moved to Havenport and took over the business from Dave’s Aunt Betty, who operated it as a tea house for almost thirty years after emigrating from Surrey. After Betty retired, they convinced her to keep baking scones and include some vegan and gluten-free options, and Havenport turned out every morning to get the first batch.
As a result, High Tide was a dizzying combination of grunge-era Seattle coffee shop meets prim New England seaside bed and breakfast. Industrial style stools and large chalkboard signs warred with cabbage rose print wallpaper and framed watercolors of seabirds. The effect was a little disorienting but also extremely fun. Several generations of Havenport citizens were already lined up for sustenance.
When Dave saw me walk in he shouted, “Liam, the usual?”
“Two,” I signaled back.
“You don’t have to wait in line?”
“Nope. Dave’s a friend. He comes and hangs at the brewery a lot.”
She looked impressed, and I stood up a little taller.
“He is a client of Callum’s as well. So he is basically family.”
We found a small table in the corner and crammed ourselves into the tiny chairs. Dave came over and personally delivered our coffees. “Cheers. Great to see you, Liam.”
“I hope you don’t mind an Americano.”
“No, not at all.” She took her first sip and a slow smile spread across her face. “This is so good. Given how little I’ve slept in the past two weeks, I probably need about ten of these.”
“You can have as many as you want, gorgeous.” I take a big sip but I didn’t even need it. Staring into the hazel eyes of Cecelia Leary was like a shot of espresso.
“So,” she said, looking awkwardly at her coffee cup, “we should probably talk about last night.”
“Um…sure. If you want to.”
“Well, I do. It was amazing.”
I lowered my voice to a whisper, aware the people in this town love to gossip. “Fuck yes, it was amazing. This morning was also pretty great too.” I winked and took a sip of my scalding coffee.
She leaned in closer. “So amazing.” Her eyes sparkled, and I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and run home for another round. “But—”
“Stop right there,” I said, blatantly interrupting her. “I want it to happen again.”
She pushed her hair behind her ears. “And so do I. But I am not in a place to start a relationship right now. And I know you aren’t either.”
I nodded, not sure what to say. On the one hand, she was right, I probably was not in a good place to start a relationship. But on the other, I woke up next to Cecelia this morning and all was right in my world. I would make it work if I had to. I needed to play it cool. “So what do you want to do?”
“Well, I hate the term friends with benefits.” She shifted uncomfortably and avoided my eyes.
I tipped her chin up to meet my gaze. “No. Absolutely not. You are my friend, and I think we both enjoy the benefits. But I am not doing that. We have a connection, Cece. You know it, I know it, the entire town knows it.” I gesture around to the dozen or so people sitting quietly staring at us.
“Okay, okay. But I can’t do anything serious. I am leaving soon, and you have to stay focused on the brewery.”
“I understand, but I think we need to at least give this a chance. Also, the town is going to start planning our wedding, and there is no way to avoid that.”
She looked around, registering the faces absorbed in our hushed conversation. I swear I saw Burt snapping photos with his phone.
