Page 89 of Pictures in Blue
A few feet from the cafe door, a blond, short-haired familiar man in scrubs comes up to Judy and starts to pet her before noticing me. This Jacob is so much different than the one I met in the bar.
Judy’s tail wags with enthusiasm as she sniffs his pockets for treats. “Sorry girl, I don’t have any right now. Come by later and I’ll grab some for you and your pack.” He scratches behind her ears and talks softly in the baby voice I usually hear from Charlotte when she talks to her cats.
“Who’s a good girl?” he draws out and my mind flits to Hudson muttering those last two words. But to me. In bed. As he moves on top of me. “Hey Avery,” he stands, leaving Judy begging at his feet for more pets.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I stutter, trying to refocus my thoughts on anything besides the way Hudson makes me feel. In bed. His head between my legs.
My brain is a traitor.
“Just trying to get out for a bit. Sky said you were helping her paint today over at the inn?” He says, phrasing it like a question.
“Yeah, I’m excited to do something.” Of course he already knows my plans.
“I’m glad. She needs a friend.”
There’s something more behind his eyes, but I don’t press him on it. “I’m actually headed there now, but I’m grabbing coffee for us.”
“And scones. Blueberry is her favorite. Bring her those and you’re in with her for life,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, and get extra vanilla in her latte. She says she doesn’t like too much vanilla in her coffee, but she always likes it sweeter. She just doesn’t know I order hers with the extra pump of syrup.”
“Noted. Thank you,” I glance down at his scrubs. “Do you work in the medical field?”
“Yeah. I’m a vet. I own the clinic combined with the animal shelter down the road from Frank’s.”
“Oh, right. Sky mentioned something about you being a vet when we went to the bar. So, you’re the one who feeds Hudson’s golden retriever addiction.”
“Yeah, well, they’re the best dogs and he takes good care of them. Every time I get one coming into the shelter, I make sure to call him first. So far he’s five for five. It’s nice knowing they’re going to a good home. They deserve an owner who loves them the way he does.”
“They do,” I agree. I motion to the shop door, “I better get inside and get Sky her coffee before she calls wondering where I am.”
“Sure thing. Stop by before you leave town. Maybe I can convince you to adopt one of the animals. I did just rehabilitate a cat that broke its leg and he’s ready to find a home. Perfect timing,” he winks like he knows I’ll need some kind of companionship when I go back to California.
“I may take you up on that.”
He reaches into the front pocket of his scrubs and pulls out a card. “Here, take this and give me a call before you go. We can set up a time for you to meet him or just come in whenever. I’m usually there. I live upstairs.”
I take the card and stuff it in my back pocket. “Thanks, Jacob. I’ll see you later,” I say before opening the door, the familiar sound of the bells jingling above me. If I could hear that sound every day and smell the sweet aroma filling the air of the cafe right now, I would be a very happy girl. I wish there was a way to bottle up the smell of this place, take it with me to spray in my apartment. The bells, I could snag on the way out, but Fran might come at me with a broom or something.
Speaking of, “Avery!” Fran says a little louder than usual.
“Uh, hi Fran. I need some coffee and scones to go,” I say. “Peppermint latte for me and vanilla latte with extra vanilla. And lemon bars please.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” she says with a glance to the back. “All sold out of bars, but I will get the scones and the coffee for you and Sky.”
“How’d you know that was for Sky?”
“Please. I know how Jacob orders her coffee. Plus I saw you talking to him outside so I figured he told you her order.”
“Intuitive,” I respond.
“I prefer observant,” she says, eyeing the flannel suspiciously. She looks at me with a smile and lowers her voice. “But Cordie also just called to tell me you were going to help Sky paint after you take some pictures.”
I laugh at the amount of detail those two women tell each other every day and watch Fran shuffle around making the drinks and bagging the scones.
She places them on the counter, “Here you go, dear.”
“Thank you, Fran. When will you have more lemon bars?” I ask, because I have been craving more ever since I ate the last batch Hudson had bought for me.
“Later,” she says with a smile that tells me she knows something that I don’t.
