Page 43 of Colliding with the Coffee Shop Owner
The generator sputters and dies with a groan that echoes through the cabin. One moment we're bathed in the warm glow of the table lamp, the next—darkness swallows everything except the faint blue-white light reflecting off the snow outside.
Max's muscles go rigid against me. The sudden darkness is disorienting; the intimate cocoon we created shatters as reality intrudes—the howling wind rattles the windows, and the temperature immediately seems to drop.
"Shit," he mutters, his breath warm against my cheek.
I pull back on the couch, the leather creaking beneath me. The loss of his warmth is immediate, my skin prickling with goosebumps. My senses, heightened by desire just moments ago, now register the danger of our situation.
"I need to check the generator," I say, already pushing myself up from the couch. The coffee shop—my livelihood—can't afford equipment damage in this storm, let alone my nonexistent cash reserves.
Max rises beside me. "Let me," he says, his hand finding mine in the darkness. "We go together," he says, his silhouette barely visible against the window's glow as he reaches for his coat.
"Max, this is..." I trail off, suddenly aware of how quickly things had escalated between us.
"Bad timing?" he suggests, his voice tight with frustration.
"Temporary." The word comes out sharper than I intended, my fear making me blunt. "You're leaving in a few weeks." I take a step away, the floorboards cold beneath my feet.
He pauses midway through shrugging on his coat. "A few weeks is better than nothing."
"Is it?" My arms cross over my chest. "In my experience, temporary connections leave permanent damage."
His coat rustles as he moves closer. "I would never intentionally hurt you."
"Intentions don't matter in the end."
Silence stretches between us, broken only by the howling wind outside, sounding closer now without the generator's steady hum. His fingers find my wrist in the dark, his thumb tracing circles on my skin.
Finally, he exhales. "You're right." His voice carries resignation and frustration in equal measure. "Mixing business and pleasure isgroundsfor disaster."
The unexpected wordplay catches me off guard. "Did you just make a coffee pun?"
His teeth flash white in the darkness. "Seemed appropriate for theespressosituation."
"That was awful." I laugh despite myself. "Please tell me you don't have a wholebrewof these."
"I've barely scratched the surface," he says, his hand still loosely holding mine. "Look, Lily—" His voice softens. "There's no rush here. We should fix the generator, and you should take as much time as you need. I want you to be certain. About me. About us. Whatever this is or could be." His thumb continues its gentle path across my skin. "I'll still be here tomorrow. And the day after. We have time to figure it out. As for my puns…"I'vebeansaving them up." His eyes twinkle with mischief. "But I won't force you tofilterthrough them all at once."
"Stop!" I groan, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Your puns aregroundsfor termination."
"Ah, but you're smiling, so mygroundsfor continuing are strong. I'm just trying toperkyou up. Felt you needed space." He gestures between us. "This needs time tobreathe. Like your incomparable brews. There’s no reason to rush this."
The tension between us transforms into something lighter, though the underlying attraction remains, steady, persistent, impossible to truly ignore.
We reset the generator and settle into preparing for the night. While the couch is comfortable for sitting, it clearly presents challenges for two adults to sleep on.
"I’ll take the floor." Max gestures to the narrow space beside the couch.
"Don't be ridiculous. It's freezing down there."
"I run hot."
"Even your CEO superpowers won't prevent a stiff neck from sleeping on the hardwood." I arrange the blanket on the couch. "The couch is big enough if we're... economical with space."
His eyebrow raises. "Economical."
"You know what I mean." Heat creeps up my neck. "Just sleeping."
"Just sleeping," he agrees, voice neutral but eyes betraying something deeper.
