Page 38 of Ablaze

“We’re runnin’ low on caramel syrup.” Jessie wipes down the steam wand on the espresso machine before dumping the used coffee grounds into the trash. After pouring some milk into a frothing pitcher, she places it under the wand before glancing at me as I make my way back from picking up a few stray cups off some tables.

It took me almost three weeks after Max left to find someone who had the experience I was looking for, but instead of one, I ended up hiring two people. One who solely helps on the weekends, and Jessie, who works during the weekdays only. I have to admit, so far she’s working out really well.

She’s a bit of a gabber and seems to constantly be low on cash–apparently, she’s also working at the casino across town in the evenings–but otherwise, she seems sweet. She has a Southern twang, bangs that she’s constantly blowing out of her eyes, and a cute little nose ring. Not to mention, she’s a complete knockout.

On more than one occasion, I’ve seen the eyes of my customers–both men and women alike–linger on her longer than necessary, but she doesn’t seem to mind. I read somewhere that red hair and green eyes are a rather rare combination, so I suppose that adds to her appeal, along with her ample chest and cinched waist. Either way, she’s been keeping the tip jar full, that’s for sure.

“I’ll add it to the inventory for tonight,” I respond with a sigh. “Do we have enough left to make it through today or do I need to run out and grab a couple of bottles from the grocery store immediately?”

She pours the milk into a cup before adding some whipped cream to it, calling out a customer's name before placing it on the counter. “No, I think we can manage until close. Plus, you’re busier than a squirrel in a barrel of acorns.”

I roll my neck and squeeze my shoulder with the tips of my fingers and thumb, trying to rub out a knot. It’s been an unusually crazy day.

This morning a customer’s miniature pinscher attacked Gigi, Mrs. Carver’s shih tzu, in the backyard. Thankfully Gigi was okay, though both she and Mrs. Carver were visibly perturbed. Poor Gigi was shaking from head to toe for a good five minutes.

After the incident, I hand-delivered a special box of treats, along with Mrs. Carver’s favorite latte, to her house. Luckily, she seemed to have calmed down and was grateful I stopped by.

As soon as I got back to the café, I found out the toilet had overflowed before it stopped working all together. And since the handyman I’ve used in the past couldn’t come by in time, I wasted an additional hour finding a new one. By the time he finally came in, I was already on my fourth latte and half-way to a full-blown migraine.

And just when I thought the day couldn’t get worse, the entire batch of cookies I was baking for a catering order overcooked because I left them in for a few minutes too long while I was talking to the handyman. Rookie mistake. I would have told Betty to take them out, but she was on her lunch break.

Suffice it to say, I’m praying for this day to end before it has a chance to get any worse.

I’m in the back icing the new batch of cookies when the bell chimes and I hear the familiar rumble of a deep laugh. No matter how many times I’ve heard it, I never seem to tire of it. Even after all these years, it still creates a buzz inside my veins–the kind of buzz I only feel around him.

Between his long hours at the fire station and my time being split between the café and Warren, I haven’t seen Dean all week. We’ve kept up through texts here and there, but I can tell he’s felt a little awkward stopping by my place unannounced like he used to.

Is this what things are going to be like from now on? Different . . . distant?

Is this what growing apart feels like?

He says something, though I can’t quite hear what, making Jessie giggle and it creates a strange urgency inside me. I want to barge out there and find out what’s so damn funny. I sound childish in my own head, but a part of me wants to go out there and lay claim to him–let her know that he’s my best friend.

Wiping my hands down my apron, I loosen my hair out of its messy bun, making it tumble down my back like a sleek curtain of chocolate and ebony. As much as I want to, I won’t be doing any barging in or claiming, but I am excited to see him.

I push the double doors slightly ajar, watching them. Jessie is leaning over the bar, tucking a strand of her crimson hair behind her ear. She eyes Dean with a flirtatious grin while he pops a treat from the pink box he’s holding–a box I left behind the bar for him–into his mouth.

“Lord, love a duck, you’re eatin’ dog biscuits.” She laughs a little too enthusiastically. “You do realize we sell cookies for humans too, don’t ya, sugar?”

His brow lifts, all charm and intrigue. “You do realize I’m part wolf, don’t you, sugar? Part man, but all beast.” He throws a wink her way and she practically preens.

I smile, knowing this is just him. He’s not even vying for her attention–in fact, he’s likely to forget her name the minute she introduces herself–but for the moments she’s locked in his spell, nothing else will matter. The look on her face says it all; she’s caught and he never even cast a net.

She pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth, twisting on her feet like a shy little girl. “I bet you’d be one hell of a beast to tame.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake!

I’m still standing in the same spot, mid eye-roll, when I catch Dean’s gaze on me. The amused look in his eyes, having caught me eavesdropping, has a dash of heat racing to my cheeks. “Hey, you.”

I grin, walking out into the café. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Dean looks around. “Do you get many cats in here? As far as I can tell, I’ve only seen dogs.”

Before I can respond, Jessie chimes in, her accent in full-effect, “Not a lot of cats, but someone brought their pet raccoon on a leash this week. It was crazy as all get out, let me tell ya!”

I close the distance between me and him. It’s been a weird few weeks between us, and I’m determined to keep things as much the same as they used to be. “Why do I feel like the only time I can get you to come by and see me is when I text you with a bribe?” I eye the box in his hands.

“That’s a load of bullshit and you know it.” Dean watches me through a half-hooded gaze. “You’ve been . . .” He clears his throat. “We’ve both been busy. But, hey, it’s actually one of the reasons I'm here today. I mean, aside from wanting to just see you.” His lips pull up on one corner, and I lock my gaze on the little smile line that’s recently appeared there. It’s something new–something that formed without me even noticing. Like a little outline outside of his smile, it’s endearing and . . . perfect. “I wanted to see if you wanted to go kayaking this weekend. I figured we could head over to Darian and Sonia’s school and borrow some equipment.”

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