Page 10 of Ablaze

I even persuaded Dean, Rohan, and Malcolm to string lights around the large trees last week in exchange for fresh coffee and their favorite pastries, and now it looks incredible all lit up in the evenings.

It’s been astounding to see the response from people who walk in not knowing what to expect. They’re always amazed that such a concept–a café for both dogs and people–isn’t available everywhere.

Rohan follows me out, plucking a blueberry-cream cheese muffin from the large platter on the front bar. “You might actually need two people here. One to handle making the coffee and ringing customers up, and another who can help you bake shit in the back. How long can you do this practically on your own?”

I refill the water tank in the large coffee machine and glance at the clock. I only have twenty minutes before I flip the sign on the front door from Closed to Open. That’s not enough time to have this conversation with my big brother again.

I know he’s right. I need to hire at least two reliable people, but it’s not easy to find someone who has baking skills, good references, doesn’t mind cleaning up dog poop, and doesn’t mind waking up and getting into work by five every morning.

I turn with my hands on my hips and my head tilted. “Well, this is unfortunate.”

Rohan’s brows pinch as he speaks around the over-sized bite in his mouth. “What is?”

“It’s only five-forty-one AM, and my big brother has already fulfilled his overbearing quota for the day.” I press my palms against my cheeks in mock horror. “However shall I go on about the rest of my day without his ever-streaming advice and criticism?”

Rohan squints at me before taking a step closer with the cream part of his muffin turned toward me. His smirk gives away his nefarious thoughts.

I back away, giggling. “Ro, don’t you dare!” I skirt to my left as he reaches out to try to rub the inside of the muffin on my nose or cheek–wherever he can. “Ro! I have customers coming in just a few minutes. I will kill you if you–” I squeal as I dodge him, only barely registering the bell chiming when the café door opens.

I’d left the doors unlocked after Rohan got here since customers have generally respected not coming in until the Open sign showed.

I’m rushing away from him with a broad smile across my face, looking over my shoulder when I run into a wall–a wall whose arms extend to steady me by the waist. My eyes snap up and get caught in ocean-blue orbs. “Dean!”

“Where are you running off to, sprinkles?” He keeps me locked in his hands before looking above my head at my brother, gathering the gist of what was happening. “Need me to hold her so you can make her pay for whatever she said, Ro?”

I wiggle out of his arms and shake my head in faux dismay. “Traitor. Coming into my café, drinking my free coffee, and eating my free pastries every morning, yet now you’re taking his side? I should ban you from my respectable establishment.”

“He’s one of my best friends; of course he’s going to take my side,” Rohan bellows, popping the rest of the muffin into his mouth. He ruffles my hair while I bat his hand out of the way before he fist bumps Dean. “You done with your shift, brother?”

Dean runs a hand over the back of his neck. By the looks of it, he’s running on low fumes. “Yeah, I figured I’d grab some coffee before I head home.”

“Heard there was a nasty fire at the warehouse on Smith and Steeple last night,” Rohan says, putting his hands in his jean pockets. “Any serious injuries?”

Dean shakes his head. “Nothing serious. A couple of guys with smoke inhalation and some second-degree burns, but nothing life-threatening.”

“Good. You look like you could use some sleep.”

Dean shrugs. “I plan on taking a nap this afternoon.”

My brother looks from Dean to me. “We still on for dinner at your place tomorrow, munch?”

“Yeah–” I start to say when Dean clears his throat, glancing at me.

“I actually won’t be able to make it. Nora wants me to meet her parents tomorrow evening.”

“Oh, no shit!” Rohan smiles, leaning back on his heels. “I suppose it’s about time. You guys been together, what . . . a year?”

Dean scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip, and I get a strange inkling he’s trying to avoid my gaze. I can’t be sure though, because why would he? “Something like that.”

“I guess I’m just surprised she finally convinced you. You’ve always been Mr. Commitaphobe. But I suppose you did give her keys to your house, so she was bound to start making long-term plans after that.”

Dean runs a hand over his face, releasing a pfft through an exhale. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Over the past six months, Rohan has made it a point to make sure I’m comfortable around all his friends, going as far as to invite me to their gatherings and letting me hang out at his place whenever I want. I wonder if it all has something to do with him making sure I don’t “run off” again like I did for college, but I’m grateful for it.

And though I’ve hung out with all of them, I feel the closest to Dean. The three of us have spent time together every week–sometimes more, depending on Rohan and Dean’s work schedules. Whether it’s watching a movie sprawled out on Rohan’s couch, kayaking on the lake, or playing pool, we’ve gotten to know each other well.

In some ways, Rohan transferred some of that protectiveness into his best friend, because even when they have different shifts and Rohan is at work, Dean takes it upon himself to check on me, either by stopping by at the café or texting to make sure I got home safely.

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