Page 46 of An Overdue Match
“Black coffee for Bo.”
Perfect! Giddy expectation percolates in my diaphragm. I can see the next few moments play out in my mind like a scene of a well-crafted book.
I’m going to tell Kari, who is distracted by the text message, that the barista said her name to pick up her coffee. Kari will thank me, at which point I’ll mentally respond that she has no idea just how much she’ll be thanking me later, as she stands up and approaches the counter. Of course, Bo will also be there because it’s really his coffee that’s ready. They’ll both reach for the coffee.
At this point, fate can take over because my work is done. Fate can decide if it wants their hands to bump, making them look at each other and then be hooked by that instant magnetism science is assuring me will happen with these opposites.Or maybe fate would rather Kari get to the counter first and pick up the coffee cup, at which time Bo will say,Excuse me, but I think that’s my coffee. They’ll laugh over the mistake then linger, bantering back and forth, magnetism again doing its job and pulling the two together.
I can barely keep the excited anticipation off my face as I clear my throat. “I think they just called your name.”
Kari looks up from her phone. “Really? That was fast. Thanks.” She stands and walks the couple of steps to the counter.
I lean back in my chair, not the least bit embarrassed to be eavesdropping. In fact, the swell in my chest feels more like pride than humility. Besides, there’s no way I’m missing out on the romance unfolding before my eyes. Or ears, rather, as I’m facing in the opposite direction and it would be too obvious if I turned around now just to watch.
“I think that’s mine,” a male voice says behind me.
“Oh, sorry about that. My mistake.”
I grin. Here it comes. The magical moment. The instant connection. The meet-cute.
I strain to hear the next words sure to come from Bo. A compliment. A witty response. A fumbling, awkward comment that Kari will find endearing even if it makes everyone else listening in the vicinity cringe.
But nothing comes. The only sounds filling the space are the constant stream coming from the old-fashioned coffee machine and the clacking of a keyboard as the patron in the corner types away on their laptop.
“Raspberry white chocolate mocha for Kari.”
The front door opens, and I turn my head and watch Bo walk out of the shop. A few seconds later, Kari follows. They both get into their separate vehicles and drive away.
Disappointment sinks in my gut, and my shoulders slump as if the two are tethered together. What went wrong? Wherewere the sparks? That defies-all-reason fascination with someone not like oneself?
I sigh and stand, tucking a couple of dollar bills under my empty mug as a tip.
Matchmaking might be alittleharder than I thought it would be—especially when the love interests aren’t cooperating as they should—but I’m not giving up. Romance merits the effort, and it will be worth it in the end.
20
“Turn green,” I plead as I stare at the red light taunting me. I’ve been sitting here half of forever waiting for the light to change. My car is the only vehicle on the road, but I know as soon as I give up on waiting and press the gas to go anyway, Sheriff Jacobs will come out from behind his hiding place around the corner with his lights flashing.
This is his favorite spot to meet his traffic violation quota each month. I swear this one traffic light has single-handedly funded the city’s improvements for the last few years, including the commission of the chainsaw sculpture Dalton’s working on now.
The red on the light dims, and the green brightens.
“Finally.” Even though I drive an automatic, I find myself pressing an imaginary clutch with my left foot and reaching for a gearshift that isn’t there. As the speedometer needle moves on my dashboard, I mentally shift gears like I had in Tai’s car.
Brett had tried to teach me how to drive a stick shift once. To say the experience hadn’t gone over well would be an understatement. He wasn’t nearly as patient or encouraging as Tai was. And I get it. Repairs to transmissions are beyond pricey. When the gear had slipped out of second and a terrible thudsounded from under Brett’s hood, I’d thought the transmission had fallen out onto the road and I’d ruined his car for good. Or at least did a couple thousand dollars’ worth of damage.
To Brett’s credit, he hadn’t yelled or cursed at me. He’d merely pursed his thin lips together and clenched his jaw so hard he’d been in danger of chipping a tooth. Then, in a voice that would raise the hair on even Alfred Hitchcock’s arms, he’d said the lesson was over.
I figured I was a lost cause. Turns out, I just needed a different teacher.
Who would’ve thought Tai fit that bill so well? There’s not much of his hard-edged exterior that gives a person a hint to the patient, even-keeled man under the surface. I’d been waiting with bated breath the entire lesson for his lid to pop, especially after the sickening sound of the gears grinding for the third time. But he’d appeared unbothered and just encouraged me to try again.
The whole evening left me confused, but nothing more so than that confounded driving lesson that had come out of the blue. Like an actor tired of playing pigeonholed roles, he’d stepped out of the part he normally played—the charmer promising a good time—and into a part that fit him surprisingly and convincingly well.
Admitting I’m physically attracted to Tai comes with little risk. To paraphrase Forrest Gump, “Pretty is as pretty does.” Like Tai’s tattoos, I’d tried to convince myself that his particular brand of pretty only went skin deep.
But if that’s the case, then he wouldn’t have treated me with such kindness and long-suffering. He wouldn’t have gone the extra mile to make me feel at ease and boost my confidence to attempt something I was more than reluctant to try. Not when there was absolutely nothing in it for him but the possibility of an astronomical mechanic bill.
But none of that really matters, does it? My attraction tohim. Whether he’s hiding a deep soul worth getting to know beneath his wolfish façade. The fact that I enjoyed myself an alarming amount.
