Chapter 2
Miranda
"H oney, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Ellen's usually cheerful voice is shrill even in the noisy shop. It's so fucking loud, I drop to the floor fast, and she does a literal double-take, staring at me with her mouth open.
It would be funny if I weren't so horribly panicked right now.
"Did you fall down?" she practically screeches at me.
I hold my finger to my mouth, desperately trying to shush her as panic sluices through my body, making my limbs manic. My hand shoots out, flailing directly into a pile of napkins stacked under the counter. They scatter on the floor around me.
I motion for her to look forward, whisper-yelling, "Stop staring at me. Turn around!" over and over while she gapes at me like I've grown another head.
Ellen is the sweetest woman I have ever met, but damn her lack of ability to pick up on my terror right now. She finally turns forward but keeps side-eyeing me in a move so obvious I have to fight the urge to pull her down here with me, consequences be damned to her bad hip.
She speaks out of the corner of her mouth, none too quietly. "What are you doing? Do you need help?"
Argh! Note to self: do not pick Ellen if I'm captain of any game requiring stealth. Adrenaline kicks in with a desperate need to hide as I roll to my stomach and army crawl across the large tiles, already sticky and gross from the morning rush. I make a beeline to the curtain leading to the back and slide under it, popping up on the other side to plaster myself to the wall like a cartoon cat.
Cole Rose is in my shop.
Oh. My. God.
Maybe it's not him. Maybe it's a Cole lookalike, and I'm desperate for a happenstance that makes that sexy, tall drink of water end up in my coffee shop after eight years. Cole "City Loving" Rose had big corporate plans after graduation. The odds of him being here, in my shop, are slim to—
Levi's voice floats through the curtain, carrying a single name. "Mr. Cole Rose."
Levi may as well have screamed his name right next to me because I take off like a bullet from a gun and race to the supply room. It's more of a big closet, but I can still panic-pace a few steps before I have to turn around.
It's him.
I fumble for my phone and open the door a crack before I slam it shut again, waiting for my best friend to pick up.
"Hi, this is Scarlett." Her melodic voice fills my ear, and I'm hit with another wave of panic. Fucking voicemail. Great. "I'm working like a responsible human, so leave a message, and I'll call you when I come up for air."
"Responsible human, my ass . Irresponsible friend is more like it!" I hold my hand to my chest, trying to stem the panic, "I'm sorry. It's not your fault, but I am in the middle of hell. Sexy muscled tall handsome sexy sexy hell and I need you to talk me out of my supply closet right fucking now!"
I open the door again and stare at the curtain before slamming it shut once more. "Cole Rose is in my shop," I whisper loudly into the phone. "He's talking to Levi, and I need you to call or text me or something because I'm freaking out, Scar. Call me." I start to hang up and then continue, "I'm sorry for leaving the world's longest voicemail. This is Miranda. Call me."
I hide for a whiiiillle in the supply closet doing inventory, which consists of aggressively counting everything, poking randomly at jars, then sitting on a box and staring at the door until I finally have enough backbone to poke my head around the curtain to find both Cole and Levi gone.
An unwanted sense of loss at having let him walk out the door after eight years cuts through my palpable relief. He was with Levi, though, so does he know him? Oh god, what if he comes back? I cannot handle a man in my life right now, and I certainly cannot handle a Cole Rose type of man.
Although, the Cole I met in college compared to the muscled sex god wearing a button-up shirt and tie in my shop this morning is like comparing apples to apple pie. There was a time I could have painted his profile with my eyes closed. Same dark hair and bright blue eyes, and he was always sexy with a strong jaw and those cheekbones. But the purposeful stubble and delicious biceps are new. He also looked more relaxed and manlier than the last time I saw him. Less college boy. And that ass has only gotten better with age.
Yum.
Butterflies erupt in my stomach. Sexy little butterflies spreading their legs wide open.
Slutty butterflies can't be good.
My body is on auto-pilot around the shop as my anxious brain tries to process the onslaught of emotions pelting me like wayward hail throughout the day.
I refill creamers at the counter during a lull, and my blood is suddenly boiling. This is my town, my shop. I don't have to hide! Then I realize it was all me rolling around in spilled coffee to avoid talking to Cole, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I should probably buy Ellen lunch for forcing her to witness that spectacle. She didn't even ask anything when I came back. Just patted my arm and said, "I'll stay up front if you want to go clean up, hon." I looked down to find a swizzle stick plastered to my apron and coffee grounds smeared on my legs.
Distracted and stormy, I almost drop the tongs I'm using to add fresh pastries to the display case as a terrible thought hits me, and I process the all too real possibility that Cole Rose might not have even recognized me. My heart squeezes with the realization that although he’s starred in almost all of my late-night fantasies for the past eight years—especially after I stopped watching Supernatural right before bed—it doesn't mean Cole remembers my name.
I bite my lip, thinking of the things fantasy Cole has done to me over the years—a continuation of the pleasure that real life Cole wrung from my body the one night I spent in his bed. Shaking my head to clear it of sexy thoughts, I wipe down a table and am suddenly hit with terrible guilt for leaving without so much as a goodbye.
Rolling my eyes at my lack of humility, I snort. I'm sure a one-night stand wasn't unusual for a guy like Cole. Even if it meant more to me than it did him, I don't begrudge him that. He didn’t make me any promises. No, he only made the thought of any other real-life man so much as kissing me feel awful and wrong, effectively ruining my sex life until the end of time. Not that I had much time for guys once I came home.
Interrupting those sad thoughts, my cell pings, and I see a text from Scarlett.
Scarlett
Please tell me you left the supply closet! I just saw this. I can't call but can text discreetly from my computer while I listen to Alistair blather on. I'd say I have about thirty minutes before he lets someone else talk. Spill!
I roll my eyes.
Yes. I left the supply closet. Sorry for my freak-out voicemail.
Oh good, you sound rational. Is this the next stage of acceptance after seeing the love of your life?
I screw up my face. Sometimes the problem with a best friend is they know too much.
Love of my life? annoyed face emoji We slept together once. Hardly the love of my life.
shrug emoji Have you slept with anyone since? eggplant emoji
Beside the point.
Are you okay?
I bite my lip, thinking of how to answer her question.
He looked good.
Yes, I gathered that, what with you being in sexy tall handsome hell.
What is he doing here?
He was there with Levi? Did they seem like friends?
No clue. What do I do?
You wait for him to come back to the shop, and then you fuck him. On every surface.
Laughing, I sit at the nearest table. Scarlett ran from Duhring the second her graduation cap took flight. She worked her ass off to get an internship at her dream company, got hired right out of college, and has worked her way up into a position where she’s under-appreciated by a douchy boss while living with a guy I can't stand. I wish she lived here and not in the city with her loser boyfriend so she could come over tonight and make me feel better about all this with a pint of ice cream.
No time for relationships. Parenting a pre-teen, remember?
I didn't say relationship, Mir. I said fuck him. Ride his big eggplant emoji until you water emoji many, many times. Let him taste your taco emoji and come back for seconds.
Friends with benefits.
Call it research.
See if he can live up to the memory of that night. If he doesn't, maybe it's the closure you need to not hide in a closet when he walks in for coffee.
I snort and then grimace as I type out the bigger issue.
And, if he does live up to the memory?
Marry him. wink emoji
Are you going to marry Chad?
God, no. Shit. Gotta run. Keep me posted. Love you.
The rest of the day passes quickly. Before I know it, Jeremy is barreling into the shop with his backpack slung over his shoulder, chattering away with his friend Jaxon about a video game.
"Hey, guys. I saved you some muffins. They're upstairs."
"Thanks, Mir." Jeremy hugs me, and Jaxon throws me a quick wave before they disappear, their floppy shoes clomping loudly on the stairs up to our apartment.
Smiling after them, I decide to take advantage of the short lull and run to the back to fill a mop bucket. After the up-close inspection of my floor this morning, I need to be mopping more.
Shining the floor leads to emptying the shelves under the counter, and before I know it, I'm stress cleaning like a boss.
"Hey!" The bell to the front door jingles as Jaxon's mom, Melody, comes bustling through. I swivel my head to the clock and realize I've been on auto-pilot for the last three hours.
Three hours? Snap out of this, girl.
"I'm sorry I'm late today. We had a last-minute wedding emergency for a couple who chose a different florist. Imagine that!" Melody grins as she throws herself onto a stool at the counter, and the fragrance of lilies and gardenias wafts over me.
I wave to her daughter, Iris, who heads to the coloring bins and paper. "Hold up, missy. I've got a brand new set with your name on it."
Iris's huge eyes light up. "Thank you, Miranda!" She reaches for the big box of crayons I hand over the counter, looking at her mom, who nods with a smile.
"Go test those out for me and make sure they work," I tell her.
Iris's curls bob up and down enthusiastically as she scampers to a table to get to work.
Melody runs Petals & Blooms a few doors down and uses her architecture degree to construct amazing floral sculptures. Wedding planners come up from the city begging her to do their clients' weddings, but she prefers to stay local, which gives her better hours as a single mom. We try to help each other out as much as possible.
"I sent them down to Mom's shop since the bride mentioned she didn't like her dress either." Melody smiles as she rummages in her large bag.
"Keeping it in the family? Smart." I grab the coffee pot and pour her a fresh cup.
Melody's mom owns Gwen's Dresses , the most popular place to get bridal wear on the mountain.
"The boys upstairs?" she asks as I put the coffee in front of her.
I nod, hoping they are indeed still upstairs since I haven't heard from them in three hours.
"Thank you for this." Melody winks at me as she slides a book across the counter. "I'm effectively ruined for anything but dark romance after that one."
I grin. "Okay then. Second shelf from the top on the bookcase over there," I say, pointing down the counter.
"Yes, ma'am." She giggles, heading to the shelf. "By the way, the couple gave me an extra-large tip for saving their wedding, so I'm taking the kids to dinner to celebrate the start of the new school year. Can I take Jeremy with us?"
"That would be amazing." I grimace. "Because I planned nothing for the first day of school."
Melody comes back to her stool and pats my arm. "We'd be eating leftovers tonight if not for the money gods shining on me. You still have to close up here. I'll bring him back to our house after dinner, and you can come get him around nine?"
Fifteen minutes later, I flip the sign to closed as they all head out the door. Iris hugs the crayons to her chest and grins at me. We decided they didn't work well enough to keep at the shop, so she's giving them a good home.
Having the apartment to myself and seeing a sexy-as-sin blast from the past means I'm racing to get everything set for tomorrow. Surveying the kitchen for the next task, I'm unsettled and agitated. I'm as vexed as a Bridgerton lady trying to nail down a suitor. This prickly anger and the throb between my thighs hasn't gone away all damn day, and I'm desperate to...alleviate some of the pressure.
The bell above the door jingles, and I sigh, realizing I forgot to lock it.
Damn distracting, sexy Cole.
Pulling the swinging kitchen door open, I muster as much patient cheer as I can, calling out, "I'm so sorry, but we're clos—"
My words die at the sight of Cole standing at the counter directly in front of me.
Oh, sweet, sexy hell.