Page 16 of Winning the Quarterback
"Nora! Your usual?" she calls, already reaching for a mug.
"Please. And whatever he wants," I reply, nodding toward Devin.
As we wait for our order, I notice two familiar figures in the corner booth. Amber Hayes, my friend from book club, sitswith her boyfriend Tucker, their heads bent close together over shared pastries. Amber spots me and her eyes widen comically, gaze darting between Devin and me with undisguised interest.
"Friends of yours?" Devin asks, following my gaze.
"Amber's in my book club. And Tucker—well, everyone knows Tucker."
Before I can suggest we grab our coffees to go, Amber is waving us over, her expression gleeful.
"Be nice," I mutter to Devin as we approach their table. "She'll interrogate you mercilessly."
"I can handle it," he assures me, hand warm against my lower back.
"Nora Bell!" Amber exclaims, her hair bouncing with excitement. "And Devin Turner. Together. On a Sunday morning. How interesting."
Tucker extends his hand to Devin. "Good to see you back in town, man. Your grandmother would be pleased."
"Thanks," Devin says, shaking his hand. "I'm working on the cottage. Might need to stop by your store for supplies soon."
"Anytime," Tucker offers. "First box of nails is on the house. Welcome home gift."
Amber pats the seat beside her. "Join us! I want to hear everything about how you two..." she waggles her eyebrows suggestively, "reconnected."
"We actually just met," I admit, sliding into the booth beside her while Devin takes the seat across from me, next to Tucker. "Yesterday, actually."
Amber's jaw drops. "Yesterday? And now you're doing the morning coffee walk of subtle shame? Nora Bell, you dark horse!"
"Amber," Tucker warns, but his lips twitch with amusement.
"What? I'm impressed, not judging." She turns to Devin, eyes narrowing. "But I will judge if your intentions aren't honorable. Nora's special."
To his credit, Devin doesn't flinch under her scrutiny. "I'm well aware," he says simply.
Amber's expression softens. "Good answer."
Lily brings our coffees along with a plate of cinnamon-sugar donuts.
Conversation flows easily after that. Tucker and Devin discover they both enjoy fishing the Whitetail River, while Amber peppers me with whispered questions. Beneath the table, Devin's foot hooks around my ankle, a casual point of contact that keeps me grounded.
It feels surreal—sitting in my favorite coffeehouse, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of Whitetail Falls, with Devin Turner across from me, looking at me like I'm something precious. Like I'm worth coming home to.
That thought sends both thrill and terror through my veins.
"—Christmas market this year," Amber is saying. "You'll help, right, Nora? We need someone to run the book stall."
"Of course," I agree automatically, though Christmas feels a lifetime away. Will Devin still be here then? Will we still be... whatever we are now?
His phone buzzes on the table, and he glances at it, expression shifting to something more guarded. "Sorry, I need to take this," he says, standing. "It's Coach Briggs."
He steps outside, phone pressed to his ear. Through the window, I watch him pace along the sidewalk, his face serious as he listens to whoever is on the other end.
"So," Amber says, reclaiming my attention. "Spill. Everything. Now."
I tear my gaze from Devin's retreating form. "There's not much to tell. He moved in across the street. We met. We... connected."
"Connected…" she repeats, eyes dancing. "Well, I’m just so happy for you!"
