Page 29 of That Thing You Brew
Once inside the barn, I jogged up the spiral iron staircase that led to the loft where Brenna’s office suite was located.
Claudia, Brenna’s assistant, sat at the desk and directed me to the love seat where Xavier was seated, across a coffee table from a pair of wingback armchairs. Brenna sat in one, her long blond hair and back to me. Fyvie from Sunflower Bakery occupied the other chair, sitting with one leg tucked up under her. Her tight auburn curls were piled loosely on her head and bobbed as she twisted around to greet me with a grin and a handful of eyebrow lifts.
On the table was a very large robin’s-egg-blue bakery box. Cake?
I liked cake. I liked everything the bakery made, including the treats the Bevvie Bar hired them to stock for us. I hoped the Coffee Loft would continue that tradition.
“Sit down, sit down!” Brenna ushered us. “Xavier gave me the basics. Secret wedding because of PR craziness during the season. Don’t tell Brendan. We can certainly keep all of this under wraps.”
Xavier looked worse for wear. Grief and lack of sleep take a toll, but this—this was more. This was a massive pressure, one that sunk shoulders and made it look like a struggle to hold your head up. His family legacy was a heavy weight. I was glad he was amenable to me helping him share the load.
He offered me a weak smile. I joined him on the love seat and lifted his arm to cradle my shoulders. Settling in next to him, I marveled at how natural it felt.
I gave his knee what I hoped was an encouraging squeeze, and we turned our attention to Brenna, who took the cliché “grinning ear to ear” to a new level.
I’d known Brenna my whole life—my grandfather’s favorite cousin married her grandfather, linking the Palmer and Brewer families after generations of rivalry. Brenna was married to Xavier’s teammate, defenseman Brendan Trotter, who’d been the one to triple-dog dare him to drink a coffee at the Bevvie Bar years ago when they’d played in town for the Volts.
Small town life…
She held a clipboard on her lap and pointed her pen at us. “I just knew you two would wake up one day and realize you were meant to be together! It’s about time! Does Brendan know you’ve been secretly dating? Tell me all about it.”
Xavier’s arm tightened around me. I’d asked him to do as much of the talking as possible, so I waited for him to answer. I didn’t usually stutter around Brenna, but Fyvie made me nervous, and I didn’t know Claudia at all.
He shifted a little on the sofa. “He doesn’t. We’ve, ah, been very secretive. I’ve been laser-focused on my career, and I knew that if I ever tried to get to know her, I’d be hooked. My grandfather died the other day, and … life is short. And I figured, that was a major life change and I’m playing okay. Maybe another major life change won’t hurt. And after three years of toffee coffees and sneaking in on off afternoons to hear her play, I just … didn’t want to wait any longer.”
This was not the story we’d rehearsed.
He looked at me with such tenderness, my throat went tight.
Without breaking our eye lock, he continued. “One day, I finally got up the nerve to talk to her. I went to the Bevvie Bar for my pregame drink, and Penny wasn’t there. My heart sunk, and I realized I wanted to see her more than I wanted the coffee. Tasha must have seen the panic in my eyes and sent me around back to find her. I thought I was just going to ask her to make my coffee. But … we had a moment.” He smiled at me, and his shoulders relaxed. “And we’ve been having moments ever since.”
Yeah, we did. And we have.
AndIwas having a moment now.
I smiled back and nodded for him to continue.
“I’ve admired you for years, Penny. Since the day I met you when you effortlessly and magically turned a doughnut into coffee. There’s no one else I’ve thought about since. You’re it for me.” His hand squeezed my shoulder, and he looked at me so earnestly I was sure time froze.
In the background of my haze, I heard Brenna gasp. Fyvie mumbled something under her breath that I couldn’t make out.
I continued to stare at him, struggling to keep my composure.Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
He’d spoken with such conviction—if his words were untrue, then he was a champion liar and should quit hockey this minute and take the next plane to Hollywood.
Fyvie spoke the words I couldn’t, her Irish accent thick with her emotion. “I … didn’t come here to gurn my lamps out.” She swiped her eyes and scooped up the box of tissues from the coffee table. “’E’s a keeper, this one, Pen.”
I couldn’t hold my tears in any longer. “M-m-making m-me cry,” I scolded her. She handed me a tissue, and I dabbed at my eyes.
“Why can’t they all be that sweet and straightforward?” Fyvie lamented with a wail. “Wasted no time, this one. ’E should be a lesson fer them all.”
Brenna and I laughed. We’d all watched Fyvie’s love story play out, full of bumps and strife, but it’d eventually smoothed out.
Xavier closed his eyes and pressed his lips to my forehead. I melted under his touch. “I wastedthree years,”he corrected. “I’ve been so focused on my game, and it’s been going well, but … something was always missing. I—I didn’t know what that was for so long. And now I know what it was. It wasn’t accolades or points or trophies. It was you, Penny.”
Hesoundedsincere but maybe laying it on a little thick? This was fake, right?
This was supposed to be fake.
