Page 36 of A Very Barrie Christmas
Once he’d recovered from the shock of seeing his innermost thoughts in print, he’d experienced a rush of awe and admiration. For as long as he could remember, he’d loved the written word. Books had been his lifeline in the hard times, his friends and mentors—his family.
And now he’d fallen for a woman who could weave words into a brand-new world, like every author who’d invited him into their heart and soul, creating a safe space when he’d needed an escape. Now, he got to be a part of the process, both as a reader and a muse.
As he pictured Juliet, perched at the tiny desk in the study, polishing her manuscript before sending it off to her editor, he stopped halfway down the hall, stunned by the sudden depth of emotion. How was it possible to feel this deeply for someone he’d just met?
He wanted to spend the rest of his life with this woman, discovering new details about her every day, learning to love herbetter. Was it too soon for thoughts like this?Probably.But he doubted he’d have much luck scrubbing them from his brain.
Giving her the space she needed to write, he took the back steps two at a time, heading for the roastery.
Vick stood alone at the long wooden table, scooping hot, crackling coffee beans into a tall five-gallon mason jar. He nodded in welcome when he spotted Nate enter the barn.
“Mind if I hang out for a while?” Nate asked.
“As long as you don’t mind if I put you to work.” Vick grinned.
“What can I do?”
“Hand me that other jar.”
Nate set the empty mason jar on the table, then moved the jar Vick had just filled with beans out of the way. Heat radiated off the glass, warming his cold hands.
“How long have you been roasting for Frank?”
“A few years.”
“I would’ve guessed a lot longer than that.” Vick worked as if the movements were second nature.
“Frank’s a great teacher. Any interest in learning to roast?”
“Me? No. But my friend Dozer would love it. He raves about the coffee at the shelter. He’d flip if he got to meet the guy who roasts it.”
“So invite him. I’ll put him to work, too.” Vick smiled, but Nate couldn’t tell if he was being serious.
“Invite him? Just like that?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Because it’s not my house.”
“He can bunk with me for a day or two if he doesn’t mind crashing on the couch. Or a mischievous miniature goat nibbling on his shoes.” Vick chuckled.
“Seriously? You’d invite a stranger into your home without a second thought?” The people of Poppy Creek were unreal.
“He’s a vet?”
“Marine.”
“Then he’s not a stranger, is he?”
Vick’s words struck a chord that resonated with Nate on a soul level. A shared experience like military service—especially combat—tied you to someone in an intense, inexplicable way with a bond thicker than blood.
Nate mulled over Vick’s suggestion. Could he invite Dozer? The more he thought about his friend meeting Vick, Frank, Beverly, Luke, and especially Juliet, the more he liked the idea. Poppy Creek had changed his life. Maybe it would do the same for Dozer? Heaven knows, he needed it.
“I suppose I could take the rest of the day to go pick him up.” Juliet would be writing, anyway.
“There’s also a bus route that runs from San Francisco into Primrose Valley, one town over. You could pick him up there,” Vick offered.
“Good to know. Thanks.” Nate’s heart thrummed as the spontaneous plan took shape. This might actually work. He’d be leaving in two days, anyway, so Dozer could catch a ride back with him.
