Chapter 8
TRENT
Igot to the coffee shop a little early, still trying to figure out if I was doing the right thing, but at least the place Stella had told me to be at actually existed. It wasn’t some abandoned lot or a murder house.
Instead, it was a cozy little shop with sun streaming through tall windows, overflowing bookshelves against the walls, and knitting needles with wool in baskets next to some couches set up in the corner.
The scent of espresso and pastries hung thick in the air, the low hum of chatter interspersed with the clicking of the needles as some people knitted while waiting for their orders.
I scanned the room, not really sure who I was supposed to be looking for.
Everyone inside was paired up, chatting quietly over their drinks or scrolling on laptops if they weren’t knitting.
Nobody seemed particularly interesting, and no one waved at me or even looked up as if they might be looking for someone too.
Great. She’s not here yet. After grabbing a coffee, I took a seat near the door and then waited. And waited. And waited some more.
A tall blonde walked in, her hair bouncing as she moved. I straightened instinctively, thinking maybe that was my cue, but she drifted toward a group by the window and disappeared into their conversation.
I sighed, drained the last of my coffee, and thought it over for a beat before I decided to give up. This whole blind date thing had been a bad idea, and obviously, the girl wasn’t even going to show, so ultimately, it was a complete waste of time.
Standing up, I dropped some cash on the table and left, a bell tinkling cheerfully above my head as I walked out. When I stepped onto the sidewalk, however, hurried movement caught my eye and I turned my head to see Charlotte racing down the sidewalk.
Alex’s sister, Charlotte. That Charlotte.
She was hurrying down the street toward me, her rich brown hair slightly disheveled, her cheeks pink, and her shoulders tense. She stopped when she saw me, her eyes scanning left and right as if she was plotting a getaway.
My eyebrows lifted. She looked flustered for some reason and I reckoned that if Alex had run into Sadie looking like that, he’d at least have made sure that she was okay, but I still approached slowly, my hands in my pockets and my voice cautious.
She hadn’t seemed too keen on me the other night. “Hey.”
As if she’d only just realized I was right in front of her now, she jumped slightly at the sound of my voice, then blinked up at me with those deep blue eyes. “What… what are you doing here? At my coffee shop?”
I squinted. “Yours?”
She waved a hand, definitely flustered and clearly mortified by her choice of words. “No! I just mean it’s just my favorite. I don’t own it or—” Cutting herself off with a frustrated sigh, she gave her head a sharp shake. “I can’t really stop and chat. I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”
I tilted my head. “I was supposed to meet someone too, but they didn’t show up.”
She frowned at me when I gave her a half-smile, trying to seem casual, but I was intrigued. Flustered like this and away from her family, little Charlotte Westwood didn’t look so little anymore. Instead, she looked like a wildflower caught in the first rays of the rising sun.
Really, really pretty.
Dark brown hair piled messily on top of her head, steely blue eyes, tall and lean in jeans and a tank top with sneakers on her feet. Her outfit was a far cry from the designer dresses and heels I’d seen her wear recently.
Her eyes narrowed on mine. Then they widened like she’d just remembered something that made her growl under her breath. A trait she shares with her brother, evidently.
Without another word, she shook her head again and practically sprinted past me into the coffee shop. I watched her through the glass for a beat before I followed her back inside. She moved straight to the counter and ordered her coffee. I stepped up right behind her and did the same.
She slipped into a corner table, looking longingly out the window. I slid into a chair a table away, trying not to seem like she was the only reason I’d come back in here, but my curiosity was doing all the heavy lifting.
Finally, she glanced at me with a sheen of suspicion in her eyes. “Are you stalking me?”
I laughed softly. “No. I told you, I was also supposed to meet someone, but they didn’t show. Seeing you running down the street made me realize that sometimes, people are just late.”
Her gaze flicked back toward the window, then returned to me with a mix of disbelief and hesitation. Maybe curiosity.
As soon as she’d said she was meeting someone and then proceeded to sit down alone, I’d started putting the pieces together, and now I was watching her try to compose herself as she did the same thing.
“Lottie?”
Her eyes went wide, but that told me I’d hit the nail right on the head. I’d heard Alex call her Char the other night. Lottie must be the nickname her friends used.
It has to be.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She shook her head so quickly, I thought her dark hair might topple out of the messy bun on her head. “No. No, no, no.”
“Are you waiting for Tony?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
Her eyes flicked down to her coffee, then back to me. “Uh, yeah. I guess. I’m supposed to meet him here this morning, but he’s not… he’s just…”
“Just a blind date your friend set up?” I finished for her.
Her eyes widened again and she groaned, resting her forehead in one hand and shaking her head repeatedly. “Stella. Of course.”
I let a small smile spread my lips. “Right. Stella Marquise. She ambushed me in line at that coffee place around the corner from W&S the other day.”
Her gaze flicked to the side, then back to me. “So you’re Tony?”
I chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn’t going to give my real name to some girl who refused to let me say no to going on a date with her friend.”
“This cannot be happening,” she muttered, groaning again before resting her face in both of her palms and shaking her head once more. “If you tell Alex or Jameson about this—”
“About the fact that I accidentally went on a date with their baby sister and cousin?” I scoffed down a laugh. “You have nothing to worry about, Lottie. My lips are sealed.”
“I wasn’t trying to trick you or anything. This was—”
“A setup by a friend who had no way of knowing that we already know each other,” I said. “Don’t sweat it. You have a different nickname when you’re with your friends. I get it.”
She finally lifted her face out of her hands and looked over at me again, those blue eyes so big and clear that it was almost like staring at the summer sky back in Texas when I really looked at her. God, she really has become beautiful.
“Not only a nickname,” she mumbled. “I basically have a whole other identity.”
“You’re not the only one,” I said, surprised that I was telling her this, but what the hell. We were here now. “When we were your age, Jameson was very different when he was with the family too. Same with Alex. Hell, I was different too.”
“When you were my age,” she repeated, her nose crinkling before she rolled her eyes. “Of course, because you’re so much older and wiser. You’re Jameson’s age, right? Basically the same as Alex?”
“Thirty-three,” I said. “You’re, what, twenty?”
“Twenty-five.” Her chin lifted ever so slightly, her eyes lighting with a challenge for me to tell her how much of a baby she was. “I’m twenty-five. It’s not that big a difference.”
“Maybe not to you,” I mused out loud. “To be fair, you do seem a lot more mature than we were back then.”
“Fifth graders are more mature than you guys were back then.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but then I realized she probably wasn’t wrong. We’d been young and dumb, and some of us had made bigger mistakes than others because of it. “Fair enough.”
Her eyebrows rose like she was surprised I wasn’t arguing, but then she sighed and reached up to tug at her messy bun. We fell into a quiet pause, each of us sipping our drinks.
“So, why were you late?” I asked, weirdly pleased when that made her look back at me. “Did you have some kind of—I’m sorry. I don’t even know what you do for a living. Work emergency?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Her shoulders hunched, her jaw tightening a little, that same spark of a challenge in her eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand this, but one of the girls in my program had a rough week. She called and asked me to come over. It took longer than I expected.”
I cocked my head. “Your program? Rehab?”
“Big Sister,” she said, glaring at me. “I mentor some girls around the city. Help them with school stuff. Life stuff. Whatever they need. Field trips, fundraisers. You know, normal volunteer work. Not drug rehab, you jerk.”
I shrugged, trying to gauge why she was reacting so defensively. She was nervous about this, careful, but there was pride tucked between her words. “That’s really cool. Admirable, even.”
Her gaze met mine and I couldn’t read it at first, but it seemed guarded and even a little skeptical. “Are you serious right now or are you making fun of me?”
“Why would I be making fun of you?”
“Because I spend my days helping little girls with math and makeup while you guys try to take over the world.”
I flat out laughed. “Darlin’, I raise cattle and count calves. I’m not sure that counts as trying to take over the world.”
“Funny. I’ve heard you’re doing a lot more than that.”
I shrugged. “I’m sure you do a lot more than teach little girls about makeup and math, but I don’t think we need to list our accomplishments. Unless this is secretly a job interview and you’d like my resume?”
Color spread across her cheeks. Her dark blue eyes were suddenly sparkling like they had stars embedded in them. “No, I don’t suppose we do. So you are actually serious about thinking that it’s cool, what I do?”
“Yeah, of course.” My brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”