33. Caden
Caden
The thing about owning a coffee shop in an old building, on an even older street, is that repairs are constant—inside and out.
Dust billows around me as I stand feet from Good Grinds’ door. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumble to myself, coughing as a jackhammer breaks apart the sidewalk.
Who the hell would want to walk past this?
I spot a guy with a clipboard and hard hat who seems somewhat in charge and wave him down.
“Hey, you guys know how long this will take?” I ask.
“They’re repairing a water line," he says with a shrug, not lifting his eyes from his paper. “So could be a day, could be a week. You should’ve gotten an email from the water company.”
I did not.
But it doesn’t matter anyway because my plans for the day don’t involve being at the shop at all. However, they do involve kidnapping Fia from it.
I dust my shirt off as I enter the shop, and just as I suspected, there’s not a single customer inside. I haven’t seen it this dead in a year.
The new barista behind the counter peeks up at me, a nervous smile on her face.
“How’s it going?” I ask nonchalantly, but before she can answer, Fia comes around the corner, arms brimming with overstock from the back room.
“Oh, hey!” She smiles so wide her eyes crinkle, then immediately schools her face, eyes darting between me and the new girl.
We made a rule—at work we are professional coworkers, if you will. Doesn’t mean it’s easy though. For fuck’s sake, it’s only Wednesday and I’m already here, unable to stay away from her.
That, and I woke up with an idea I can’t shake.
“Been slow I’m guessing?” I cross my arms over my chest, staring at the plants draping off the wall, at the emerald-green tile on the wall—anywhere but at Fia’s long legs and full pouty lips.
The new barista nods slowly, busying herself with a rag. Fia dumps the cups on a table next to me, popping a hand on her hip.
“I think we’ve had five customers all morning.” She jerks her head towards the construction booming loudly outside the door—right over the soothing coffeehouse music.
“But anyway, what are you doing here?” She tilts her head, and it sounds friendly, but the look in her eyes tells me it’s deeper.
“I forgot something from my office and needed to talk to you about something,” I reply, but I make no show of moving towards said office.
Fia eyes me. “Right.” She turns her head, but not before I catch a sly smirk spreading on her lips.
The back door chimes and stomping footsteps clamber down the hall. “What in the fresh hell is happening outside?” Halle’s loud voice booms through the shop, but she skids to a stop when she sees me.
“Oh, hi, boss.” Her face is red, eyes darting between everyone. “Didn’t know you were coming in today.”
Fia clears her throat.
“Caden needed something from his office, then he’s leaving.” She spins to face me, eyes narrowed playfully. “What did you say you were doing again, spending the day at the beach?”
I lick my lips, feeling the daring energy spark between us. The exact reason I shouldn’t be here.
“Actually, I have a meeting with our coffee supplier this morning.” I pause as Fia scrunches her forehead. “That’s why I’m here, I need you to come with me.”
“The supplier needs to meet with both of us?” she rebuts bluntly.
“It’s an important meeting, and I need your people skills, Hanson.”
There’s a spark of intrigue in her eyes as she watches me.
At least I hope that’s what it is.
“Fia, go ahead,” Halle chimes in. “I can hold it down. It’s going to be a slow day anyway.”
“Okay . . .” Fia glances out the window. “We won’t be long?”
I shake my head, frowning. “Shouldn’t be, unless they have a lot of products for us to sample. They can be annoyingly thorough.” I toy with my car keys on my fingers, bluffing boredom.
“Okay, well I guess I’ll be back soon.” Fia turns to Halle. “Text me if you need anything, or if we get busy.”
Halle salutes her, lips pursed tight, like she’s biting back a smile.
I walk into my office without another word, hoping to god this idea doesn’t backfire on me. She’s either going to hate me for it . . . or love me.
Fia walks in moments later with her purse slung over her shoulder, an iced coffee in hand. “Alright, I’m ready.”
I look her up and down, like a tall drink of water.
“Did you get what you needed?” she asks, taking a sip of her drink.
“Yep,” I reply with a succinct nod. “And we better get out of here . . .” I murmur, “before I do something totally inappropriate.”
Fia steps forward, swatting my arm. “Caden!” She smiles, eyes wild. “Did you come here today to just check me out?”
I shrug but brush the hair away from her face, lightly running my lips across the soft skin of her neck.
“No, I really do need you for this meeting,” I reply, my voice slightly rough. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay away from you.”
We’ve hooked up once more after the night of the awards dinner. I’ve kissed her more times than I can count though. I told her we’d go at her pace, however, and I intend to keep my word.
Which means I truly need to stop coming into Good Grinds in the middle of the day.
“I forgive you,” Fia replies, putting her hand on my chest, nudging me back. “But we should get going. Don’t want to be late for the supplier meeting.”
Fia leans back in the passenger seat of my Jeep as the sun shines down on her. She tilts her head my way, catching me staring at her.
“What?” she asks, green eyes peeping over the rims of black sunglasses.
“Nothing . . .” I smile at the stretch of road rolling out in front of us as I head towards the ocean. “I just really like seeing you in my car.”
She rolls her eyes, pulling her leg up under her. “I’ve ridden in your car plenty of times before.”
I turn on the radio. “Yeah, but now I can look at you like I want to.”
She blushes and leans towards me, pecking my cheek.
“Must I remind you, I’m on the clock,” she says with a sultry smile.
Fia scrolls her phone as we pull onto the highway, heading out of Wilmington. “Okay, so where are we going? I don’t think I’ve ever gone to a meeting with you.”
I’m actually a bit surprised she bought that lie.
I haven’t changed coffee suppliers in years, and they send all the samples to the cafe for testing.
I smirk, but remain silent.
“Caden,” she says sternly, looking up from her phone. “Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something?”
“So, there’s no meeting.”
Fia’s jaw drops open, and she dramatically swivels towards me, her hair flying in the wind.
“I know, I know.” I throw a hand up. “Don’t be pissed. I just wanted a day, fuck, just a few hours, with my girl. Just the two of us.”
Fia sits back in the seat again, her scoff turning into a tiny grin. “Your girl?”
I reach out, draping my arm around the back of her seat. “Yeah, my girl.”
She sighs. “I should be pissed at you. And I feel pretty guilty for leaving Halle and Melody alone. But you’re intriguing, I’ll give you that.” She laughs to herself.
“They will be fine for a few hours without you. As my manager, you deserve a break.”
Fia nods. “Uh-huh. And as your girl?”
“As my girl.” I move my hand to her thigh and squeeze it. “You deserve a man who can surprise you.”
“So you’re not going to tell me what the plan is?”
“Nope.”
I turn the music up.
This isn’t like me. I’m a man of routine, of solitude, but this morning I woke up not wanting to be alone.
I simply woke up wanting to be with Fia.
Ten minutes later, we’re parked in the lot next to the marina. The sun-faded asphalt lot is pretty empty considering it’s the middle of the workweek.
Excitement and confusion flash simultaneously on Fia’s face as she whips her head around, checking out the surroundings.
“What are we doing here?”
I jump out of the Jeep, flip-flops hitting the hot pavement. “We’re sailing.”
Fia swivels around, her eyes tracing my steps to the trunk. She pops through the backseats like a little kid.
“You can sail? You have a boat?”
I laugh and nod. “Yes, and yes.”
With my hands wrapped around the cooler handles, I glance at her. “You don’t get seasick, do you?”
“No.” She pauses, gazing out over the boats as seagulls circle around us. “I mean, I don’t think so. I’ve never been sailing . . . or on a boat. Unless a kayak counts.”
“So what you’re saying is that I’m taking your boat virginity?” I ask, and Fia rolls her eyes but smiles too.
A warm summer breeze flows through the parking lot, bringing the smell of fuel and salty water. The docks are full of boats, ranging from small, zippy speedboats to forty-foot sailboats.
“I’m not sure why I’m surprised that you own a boat and know how to sail,” she mumbles, more to herself than me.
I hoist the cooler on top of my shoulder. “I packed a beach bag, grabbed your swimsuit from the outdoor shower, and the sunscreen, so we’re good to go.”
“When did you even plan this?” Fia climbs down from the Jeep and walks beside me.
“This morning as I ate breakfast.”
Fia stops with her hands on her hips, looking up at me. “Huh . . . you’re kind of a romantic, aren’t you?”
“Only for you,” I reply, flashing a crooked smile as she follows me closely down the dock to my boat.
“I should probably text Halle and tell her the business meeting is going to take a few hours.”
“Probably a good idea. Wouldn’t want anyone worrying about you.”
I step into the sailboat first to set down the cooler, then turn back towards Fia.
“I still can’t believe you kidnapped me to sail.” She laughs as I take her hand. I reach forward, grabbing her waist with my other arm and lift her into the boat with me.
I tip her face up towards mine.
“I’ve been waiting all morning to kiss that pretty mouth of yours.”
Fia blushes, and I set a soft kiss on her lips, but then she steps back to look at me.
“Who are you and what have you done with Caden Brooks?” she teases.
I grin and give her ass a playful tap. “Oh I’m still here . . . just a bit less grumpy.”
The truth is part of me is terrified every minute that I’m going to screw this up, that it is reckless to date Fia, but the other part of me feels light, like I never want to sleep, I just want to be with her.
Is this what it feels like to be happy?
“So this is how the other half lives?” Fia asks, looking around Shelly-Ray. I’m pretty glad I spent time cleaning it up recently. “They take off work on Tuesdays and sail around the bay?”
I shuffle around the cockpit, prepping the sails.
“Maybe some. But I’ve only taken this boat out three times in the last year.”
Fia shakes her head at me. “That’s so sad. Well now that I know you own a boat, sailor, that’s going to change.”
She stands on the side bench, already at ease, her shoes kicked off somewhere. She looks pretty damn cute in her loose white tank and cutoff jean shorts. I come over, wrapping my arm around her bare legs as Fia laughs.
“Okay, Captain, tell me what to do!”
“Go chill on the sunbathing net up there and enjoy doing absolutely nothing,” I instruct, but Fia scrunches her nose.
“No, really, I couldn’t do that. Let me help.”
“It wasn’t an option,” I reply, setting her down next to me. “You’re on the clock, remember? And I’m telling you to go relax.”
She rakes her eyes up my body, her palms in the air. “Okay, okay.”
Carefully, Fia climbs onto the tarped net over the water, which slaps lightly against the sides of the boat.
I continue to move around the boat with a smile and newfound purpose—to give her a day to remember.
“Okay, wait.” I sit up to look at Fia, who’s resting on the edge of the net, feet dangling in the ocean water. “You’re telling me, if you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, you’d choose a bagel and cream cheese?”
“Yes!” Fia exclaims, voice raspy as she chuckles.
I don’t even know how we got onto this topic, but that’s the thing about talking to Fia—you lose track of time.
She pulls her feet out of the water, knees to chest, and rotates towards me, green eyes sparkling in the late-morning sun. “But not just any bagel. The kind I’m talking about are the best you’ve ever had.”
We’ve been bobbing above the shallow water, moored ten feet from the sandy shore of Masonboro Island, for about an hour now. I thought we’d jump off and swim or explore, but Fia liked sitting here in our bathing suits, basking in the sun.
I had no complaints about that.
“I’m listening,” I muse.
Fia adjusts her sunglasses and takes a deep breath, like what she’s about to tell me is essential information.
If it’s coming out of her mouth, it is, to me.
“About thirty minutes away, there’s a tiny, unassuming bagel shop called All Things Holey, and they have the biggest, chewiest, most orgasmic bagels ever.
” She lifts her brows, a smile playing on her lips.
“When I was pregnant with Daisy, I ate them by the bagful. My sister used to bring me the rosemary and sea salt ones, with extra cream cheese—we are talking, like, an inch thick—and it would make my entire day better. So yes, if I was on a deserted island, I’d eat that every day,” she concludes with a succinct nod.
“Well, shoot, I learn something new every day about you.” I run a hand through my hair, and she reaches out, tapping my sun-tanned forearm.
“Your turn.”
“Alright . . . I’d probably eat Pop-Tarts.”
Fia lurches forward, bursting with a laugh.
“Pop-Tarts!? How old are you, five?”
I raise my finger in the air. “Listen, I have my reasons, miss ten inches of cream cheese.”
“No, please, elaborate,” Fia says with a grin, and I have to peel my eyes off her lips. It feels like she’s been smiling for hours now, and I can’t get enough of it.
“You know those crazy people who think a single grain of sugar will kill you? That’s my mom. Growing up, I wasn’t allowed any sugar, not even maple syrup on my pancakes.”
“No!” she gasps, hand over heart.
“As it turns out,” I say, looking out at the blue rippling water, “I don’t actually have a sweet tooth, but strawberry Pop-Tarts are my one kryptonite. I can’t even keep them in the house because I will demolish the entire box in one sitting.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that,” Fia chuckles.
I stand up, extending my hand down to her. “On that note, there’s something I want to show you. If you’re up for a little exploring.”
Fia shields her eyes from the sun and places a hand in mine.
“Always.”