Page 7 of Caught in the Axe
Did I know this woman?I racked my brain, trying to place the unassuming brunette with the big smile.
I hadn’t been home in years, and I hadn’t kept in touch with anyone aside from my mother and a couple of my brothers. Given our family’s recent infamy, it’s likely that she knewofme. But I was fairly confident I’d never met her.
She thrust a to-go cup at me. “Do you like coffee? I thought you liked coffee. I don’t really know if you like coffee, but there’s an amazing new shop at the end of Main Street. They make incredible berry cream cake and homemade scones.”
My head spun as I assessed her. This sweet stranger had brought me coffee? Though I was more than a bit confused, I was oddly touched. Until the paranoid part of my brain kicked in and questioned whether the drink could be poisoned.No. I pushed that thought away. She was so disarmingly pretty and too goddamn nice to poison a person. Right?
Deciding to take my chances, I took the cup from her hand, and before I could even say thank you. She was chatting away again.
“This is an oat-milk honey latte.Sogood.”
“Oh gosh.” She tilted her head slightly. “Are you one of those black coffee guys?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “The kind that pretends to be so tough that milk and sugar are a threat to your manhood?”
“Um, no.” I clutched the cup to my chest. Who was this woman?
“Good. If that was the case, I’d stop this interview right now. I bring everyone lattes. It’s my little gift. Mostly because I really love the Caffeinated Moose, but also because I like making people smile.”
Interview?This was the furthest thing from a job interview I’d ever experienced. Every second of this interaction had been truly bizarre.
I was still filing away her words to play back later when she took a step closer, a smile playing on her lips.
“Try it.”
Assessing her earnest expression, I inhaled the delicious nutty scent of really good coffee, then brought the cup to my lips. The latte was piping hot, just the way I liked it. I swallowed, noting the bitterness of the espresso and how thehoney and the oat milk complemented and muted the flavor perfectly.
I lived on coffee, so I was a bit snobby about it. When a person consumed as much as I did, it wasn’t hard to get really particular about the quality and flavor.
“The honey is local,” she said. “Raeanna—she’s the barista—was telling me all about how she sources it.”
I took another slow sip and held the cup up to survey it. “Where did you get this?” It had been a long time, but as far as I knew, the diner didn’t make lattes. If this woman was involved in some kind of espresso operation, then she was hired, regardless of her accounting skills.
“I told you.” Her smile was still big, but it was full of exasperation. “The Caffeinated Moose. It’s a new coffee bar on Main Street. The people who own it are sweet. They moved here from Vermont. They have bakery items as well as sandwiches and amazing coffee and tea.”
“I hardly think Lovewell is the kind of place that can sustain a fancy café.”
The second the shitty comment was out, I was hit with a wave of shame. This vibrant, lovely woman lived here. I needed to remember not to insult the locals.
Instead of being offended, she just laughed at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’ve been gone a long time, Owen. Things are changing here. And while the older folks in town may complain about paying more than a dollar for coffee, Raeanna is a magician. I guarantee even the cranky old loggers will be lining up for her lavender jasmine tea infusions. But I’ve decided to become a honey latte ambassador, just in case. I’m getting everyone hooked.”
I took another sip. Shit, this was good. It wasn’t toosweet, but it was far more tasty than a cup of black coffee. And damn, was it the afternoon kick in the ass I needed.
With one last smile, she strolled through the lobby, draping her winter coat over one of the remaining chairs as she went. “So talk to me. What’s the project?” She spun, producing a small notebook and a pen from her purse, and looked at me expectantly. “Your brothers weren’t exactly forthcoming with details.”
I felt like I’d been knocked on my ass. This woman’s creamy skin and full pink lips were irresistible. The sassy tilt of her head after she asked me a question sent a spark of interest through me. Most of all, I was intrigued by her strange overfamiliarity. I didn’t know her. Trust me, if I did, I’d remember this bubbly brunette. And yet she was acting like we were old friends.
Even though I didn’t have the first clue who she was, there was something eerily familiar about her.
“Why don’t we head upstairs and sit?” I suggested, hitting the call button on the elevator.
While she gathered her coat, I considered discreetly texting my brothers and asking who the hell this was.
But before I could even pull the device from my pocket, she was at my side.
I led her up to the third floor and past the conference room that was littered with evidence of my earlier frustrations. The conference table in my father’s office was almost as large, so we could get set up there. The ergonomic leather chairs were long gone, but several hard metal folding chairs had been brought in.
I pulled one out for her and gestured for her to sit. Once she was settled, I sat beside her.
“Listen,” I said, rolling my neck, searching for some kind of relief. I’d been here a handful of hours, and it had already felt like days. “I’m not sure what my brothers told you.”
