Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Karl
The mid-November air is getting chilly—especially this early in the morning.
Maybe that’s why the steam rising in the air outside the station catches my attention.
There’s a coffee truck parked outside, blending in with the dusty, familiar backdrop of the fire station.
The place has been a barren wasteland when it comes to coffee for a good month or so now, and honestly? It’s been a bit of a tragedy.
I’m a man of simple pleasures, and a good cup of coffee is right at the top of my list.
I start to walk toward it, but the second my eyes fall on the little chalkboard sign, Espresso Love, my brain does this weird, slow-motion double-take. I stop dead in my tracks. There’s no way.
No. Freaking. Way.
It’s her.
Olivia.
The same woman who’d run out on me on Halloween, and I still can’t get her out of my head.
I swear, every time I close my eyes, I see her. That sharp tongue. The way she carried herself. And yeah, maybe I should’ve let it go.
I don’t exactly get all tangled up in others. But there’s something about her that has stuck with me.
And now here she is, standing in front of me, inside a coffee truck. Right by my workplace.
It’s weird. Walking into a dream, except it’s not a dream. It’s a hot mess of reality. One I am drawn to. I mean, she was only here for a good time, but now I’m thinking Miss Quinn might be here for a long time.
I can’t stop staring as she fiddles with something inside the truck, looking all businesslike and focused. But the second she turns around to hand over a coffee to the guy ahead of me, I freeze.
Her eyes meet mine, and I feel my heart jump into my throat, just as it used to when I was a friggin’ teenager. I can tell when Olivia is thinking, her face has gone a little… dark.
“Uh… hey.”
Smooth, Madden. Real smooth.
She just stands there, blinking at me. Maybe she thought she’d escaped our night together. I don’t blame her.
I tried to forget about her, but that’s hard to do when every time I hear a laugh or see someone storm out of a bar, I think about her.
“Hi,” she finally says, clearly trying to keep it cool, but I can tell by the twitch of her jaw she’s just as thrown as I am.
I’m not sure why I’m so thrown, though. It’s just a coffee truck. And it’s just Olivia Quinn.
“Coffee?” she asks, already reaching for the machine, in some autopilot mode.
She’s trying to act normal, ignoring the electric tension crackling between us.
I shake my head, clearing away the fog.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, stepping up to the counter. “Guess I’m lucky you’re here this morning. Been needing some good coffee. This place has been a ghost town when it comes to caffeine.”
She doesn’t laugh. In fact, she seems almost… nervous. I don’t know if it’s because I’m standing here or because I keep giving her that stupid, cocky grin I can’t seem to get rid of, but something’s off.
She presses a button on the machine, the steam rising from the spout as she makes my coffee.
The sound of it feels way too loud. I can’t stop watching her.
Watching the way she moves. Effortless, as if she was always meant to be here, running this truck, serving coffee to people who don’t deserve it.
“Guess you’re full of surprises, huh?” I try, because I need something, anything to break the weirdness between us.
Her lips twitch. A little hint of a smile, but not much. “I’ve got a lot of surprises, Karl.”
“I’ll bet,” I say, leaning on the counter, not even bothering to hide the way I’m watching her.
And damn if I don’t feel that same buzz I got the first time I saw her. She’s got this mix of fire and uncertainty, and it pulls me in.
The coffee’s done. She slides the cup across the counter, but I don’t take it right away. I’m not ready to leave just yet.
“So, uh,” I say, keeping my eyes locked on her, “you sticking around town for a while? If you have this truck and will.”
She eyes me, the corner of her mouth lifting, holding back a smile. “Yeah, looks like I’m here for a while. Got a lot of plans for this truck. Gotta make it work. My last job… urgh, it didn’t exactly end well.”
“Oh, really.” I can’t help but lean in a little closer. “Well, Coyote Glen is lucky to have you, that’s for sure.”
She looks up at me, and for a split second, I swear I catch that tiny flicker of interest. The kind that makes my chest tighten.
“Maybe,” she says, the tease in her words there, though she tries to mask it. “I guess I’m going to have to get used to the small-town life, huh?”
I flash her a grin, leaning in just a little closer. “Oh, you’ll get used to it. The pace, the quiet… and the occasional chaos.”
I give her a playful look, letting the words hang in the air between us.
She raises an eyebrow, that look of curiosity still lingering in her eyes. “Chaos? Sounds like something I can handle.”
I can’t help but laugh. She’s got that kind of energy that feels contagious. “Trust me, in Coyote Glen, it’s less ‘handling’ and more surviving. You’ll see what I mean soon enough.”
She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I hope so.”
I take a slow sip of my coffee, savoring the taste. Though I can’t deny it’s the woman standing in front of me that’s got my full attention.
“Coyote Glen’s a bit like a slow burn,” I say, setting my cup down and leaning in to make her attention snap back to me. “It gets under your skin, and before you know it, you’ll be talking about it like it’s home.”
She eyes me, clearly intrigued, though she’s doing a damn good job of playing it cool. “Is that how you ended up here? Just one of those slow burns?”
“Maybe,” I say with a shrug. “Or maybe I just know when I find something worth sticking around for.”
I give her a grin that’s maybe a little more confident than I should feel, but hell, it’s working. I can feel the tension in the air shift, just enough to let me know she’s picking up what I’m putting down.
Her expression falters, and there’s a brief, almost imperceptible pause before she opens her mouth to respond.
“You know,” she starts, quieter now, “I’ve had my share of… unexpected turns in life. But maybe, just maybe, this town can be that turn I didn’t expect.”
I lean closer, grinning. “Well, if that’s the case, you’re definitely going to need a tour guide.”
Her brow furrows for a second, as if she’s trying to figure me out, but then she softens again. And I know she’s hooked. She might be trying to play it coy, but I can see through it.
“You want to be my tour guide?”
My heart’s pounding, but I’m not about to back down now. I’ve got a good feeling about this.
“Well,” I say, taking a step back and folding my arms, “since you’re all about surviving the chaos of small-town life, I think you deserve a little fun, too.
” I pause for a moment, letting the words sink in.
“How about dinner tonight? You, me, and a spot where the only chaos will be figuring out whether you want dessert.”
For a second, she stands there, blinking at me, all confused.
Then, to my absolute shock, she surprises the hell out of me by smiling. A real, genuine smile. “You know what? Sure. Why not? I could use a little more chaos.”
I feel my chest tighten, in the best possible way.
“Seriously?” I ask, not quite believing it, but a part of me already knows she’s about to make my night.
She nods, almost teasing. “Yeah, seriously. But fair warning, I’m not an easy date.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
I’m still standing there, a little stunned by how easy that was.
The woman who practically ran away from me on Halloween is now agreeing to have dinner with me, and for some reason, I’m sure this might be the start of something… well, maybe a little bit more than I bargained for.
I take a final sip of my coffee, feeling the heat of it hit me as a shot of adrenaline.
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” I say, just to make sure we’re on the same page.
“Seven it is, at my new apartment on Stars Lane. Number seven,” she says, and there’s that tiny flicker in her eyes again, the same one that’s been pulling me in since Halloween. “I’ll see you then, Karl Madden.”
I turn to walk away, my pulse racing, but I can’t resist one last glance over my shoulder. “You won’t regret it.”
As I make my way back to the station, I’m already replaying that moment in my head, grinning foolishly.
Olivia Quinn. This time, I’m not letting her slip through my fingers. Not a chance.