The Coffee Bar on Camellia Court (Autumn Lake #3)

1. Juno

1

Juno

Poppy sashaying into the shop in good spirits before dawn should have been a good omen.

Juno's day had, indeed, started out so well. Her signature cinnamon rolls and scones had baked to perfection, and she’d had time to make a double batch of syrup for her seasonal lavender honey lattes, which had been this summer's hit. Then Poppy had gotten to work a few minutes early for a change, looking put-together with a genuinely cheerful smile on her face. Five in the morning was tough for most people, but especially for teenagers and young adults. Juno empathized and showed the young woman a little extra grace, mainly because Poppy was an exceptional barista who worked hard to master the craft.

Juno traced her finger along the espresso machine's sleek curves. She'd never forget her first job as a barista fifteen years ago, serving lattes to high school friends in this very shop. Back then, she'd fallen in love with everything—the science of the roast, the chemistry of flavors, the art of the perfect foam.

Now she owned the place.

Then, right around nine AM, Alex Frampton's truck pulled into the small parking lot across the street at Tip-Top Talons. A nail salon, not a pet spa as its name might suggest. In spite of the unfortunate epithet, Sonya and her staff did a fair amount of business, especially during the summer tourist season. Many of Sonya's clients took advantage of Juno being just across the street and became Coffee Bar customers, too.

Tip-Top Talons was open long hours, and Juno appreciated Sonya's strong hands after her own twelve-hour days. The woman was chatty but sensitive to her clients' moods—never making Juno feel bad when she wasn't up for conversation. It was as close to tears as Juno ever came these days.

Today, however, it wasn't tears Juno was fighting back. Instead, she was doing everything she could to not let her gaze wander across the street to where Alex was constructing a small enclosure around the upgraded air conditioner Sonya had gotten installed last week. The unit was enormous and admittedly an eyesore, squatting in the middle of her front flower bed like an industrial wart. According to the heating and air company, however, that had been the best placement for it.

Juno was, of course, glad Sonya was doing something to camouflage the monstrosity. Tip-Top Talons had such a pretty porch bedecked with hanging fern baskets, and lush flowerbeds bordering a small lawn out front, and Juno's customers who sat at the tables in that window often commented on what a cute place it was.

But of all the contractors and handymen in town, did she have to hire Alex Frampton to do the work?

Alex. Big, blonde, and burnished, who wielded his hammer like it was an extension of his arm, his biceps bulging with each mighty swing, the muscles of his back and shoulders rippling beneath his tight t-shirt.

And then there was the woman who was sitting at one of Juno's coveted window tables, staring longingly out the window at him while she sipped on her enormous iced vanilla soy latte with caramel drizzle in the bottom, on the insides of the cup, and on top of the extra nondairy whipped cream, with ten pumps of vanilla syrup instead of the standard six, and an additional six pumps of toffee syrup.

She'd come from Tip-Top Talons, with her shiny long nails and the distinct essence of lacquer that emanated off her when she'd ordered her drink. She'd been sitting there for almost an hour, poring over a gossip magazine like it held the secrets of the ages, mooning over Alex, scrolling on her phone, and shooting dagger eyes at anyone else who so much as noticed Alex gleaming in the rays of sunshine shooting through the puffy clouds overhead.

It was almost like God, himself, felt compelled to shine a spotlight on one of his finest creations.

Juno huffed impatiently, wrung out the rag she'd been rinsing, and started vigorously wiping down the espresso machine. There was a lull in the mid-Saturday morning rush, and by the looks of the machine, it had gone like a workhorse for the last hour or so.

"Sonya's customers have a nice view today," Liz Needham commented dryly from where she sat at the counter, sipping on a large mug of black coffee. She had her back to the window, but Juno didn't have to guess what she was talking about. Or who.

"Yes, and I'm sure they appreciate it. Probably tipping good, too."

Liz chuckled and turned to watch Alex drive a post-hole digger into the soft garden soil. "I bet they are. You should think about putting a tip jar out, too. Or charge to rent a window seat."

The woman in the window must have sensed their attention, because she glared with open hostility in their direction.

"Sheesh, lady," Liz muttered, turning back to roll her eyes at Juno. "Do you know her?"

"She came in with him last Saturday," she said in a low voice. "Dolly. Uh, Payton."

Liz snorted, and in a loud whisper, asked, "Dolly Payton?"

Juno grinned and brought a carafe over to offer her a refill. "No, you nut," she said sotto voce. "Her name is Payton. But I had to use Dolly's name for association so I'd remember."

"A WOOT, I presume?"

"Well, she's not a townie." The locals, primarily living on the south shore, had witnessed dramatic changes to their quiet little town when a travel magazine featured Autumn Lake, calling it "a hidden gem vacation spot." The wild north shore had been cleared for the high-end Carpe Diem Resort, followed by the North Shore housing development with its own amenities catering to the wealthy seasonal residents.

The townies dubbed the tourists WOOTs, or wealthy-out-of-towners, although not everyone who vacationed at the lake booked accommodations at the resort or had a summer home in the North Shore development. There were also those who rented rooms or cottages from the townies, or brought their RVs and boat trailers to the Shady Shores Campground on the south shore. Juno wasn't sure which category Payton fell under, nor did she care to find out.

What she did know was that Payton was just another in Alex's long line of pretty summer flings. He only dated women he couldn't logistically commit to—summer lakers who'd be gone by fall. Some returned year after year, hoping to pick up where they'd left off, but it never happened. Instead, every summer brought a new conquest clutching his arm and basking in his unrelenting charm.

"Poor thing," Liz said, her thoughts obviously heading in the same direction as Juno's. "Looks like she's flown too close to the sun."

"Yeah. Another summer sizzler." Juno pretended to lick her finger and held it up in Payton's general direction. "Tsssss."

Liz chortled. "Summer sizzler. That's good."

"Thank you," Juno preened. "That one just rolled off the tongue."

"Alex and his summer sizzlers." Liz nodded. "It's got a nice ring to it."

Juno chuckled and turned to the sink to rinse out the rag again. She almost felt sorry for Payton. It wasn't her fault that she'd fallen for Alex. The guy was irresistible with his Viking good looks and easy charm. He had a way of looking at a woman—any woman, Juno conceded—that made her feel singled out. Acknowledged. Special.

"He's doing it on purpose, you know."

"Doing what?" Juno asked over her shoulder, forcing her eyes not to wander toward the window.

Liz gave her a single-eyebrow-lift look and Juno mirrored the sardonic expression back at her. "Oh, you know. The whole shirtless thing. To get your attention."

Of its own accord, her gaze moved to the window just in time to see Alex ball up the shirt he'd just removed, toss it into the open window of his truck, then roll out his shoulders. At her table, Payton let out a dreamy sigh, loud enough to cover Juno's slight inhalation, thank goodness. Juno made a small sound of disgust at the back of her throat, but shrugged. "It's July in Indiana. We're a lake town. Every guy is shirtless today."

"Pastor Darren isn't shirtless."

Juno snorted and shot a look at the fully-dressed man who'd commandeered one of the comfortable reading chairs on the other side of the coffee shop and was engrossed in the day's Courier newspaper. "Yeah, well, Pastor Darren is seventy-two years old and has the good sense to stay indoors where there's air conditioning."

"You know, he could be Thor's younger brother." Liz's tone sounded a little gushy.

"Pastor Darren?" Juno couldn't resist asking.

"Yikes. No." Liz made a face just as Claire Maitland, the proprietress from The Cracked Spine, sank onto a stool beside her. Her long blonde hair was held back from her face by a black velvet ribbon, and she wore a white pinafore apron over a blue dress with a wide checkered border around the bottom of the full skirt. Juno was pretty sure there was some kind of petticoat under it to keep it so poofy.

Claire was always dressing like book characters. Her willowy silhouette and porcelain features were perfectly suited to the costumer's rack that was her closet. If she could figure out how to make it happen, Claire would step into her books and disappear forever.

"Wowzer!" Claire swiveled on her stool so she could openly watch Alex. "Not gonna complain about this morning's entertainment."

"Stop objectifying him, ladies," Juno said, fighting back a grin.

"I'd never objectify Pastor Darren." Liz pressed a palm to her chest in mock offense.

Juno ignored her, and to Claire, said, "And don't you have a bookstore to run?"

"I do," Claire shot back, still ogling Alex while she rifled blindly through her patchwork hobo bag for her wallet. "But I also have a couple of really great employees I pay to hold down the fort while I make a java run for them from my favorite coffee bar. I need three of your lavender honey lattes—two iced, one hot—a salted caramel blended latte, and a breve Americano for me. All mediums, please." She finally turned and grinned at Liz, then Juno. She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Did you notice the WOOT in the window giving me the evil eye? What's up with that?"

"That's Dolly Payton," Liz said.

"No way." Claire's expression was priceless, her eyes wide, her face lit up with hope. "Dolly Payton? That's awesome!"

"Just Payton," Juno corrected, glaring long-sufferingly at Liz. "Alex's latest summer sizzler. That's what I'm officially calling them from now on, by the way."

Claire clapped delightedly. "Works for me."

"They came in together around this same time last Saturday and he made her introduce herself to me," Juno went on.

"Probably couldn't remember her name," Liz quipped.

"She's been camped out there for more than an hour," Juno continued, a note of genuine pity in her voice now. "I think she's waiting for him, maybe hoping he'll notice her sitting pretty in the window."

"Another summer sizzler," Claire said solemnly. "They burn out so quickly."

The conversation, to outside ears, might have sounded catty, but Alex regularly made light of his short term dalliances. "I'm a summer sunshine guy. Local color. No one expects more from me than that."

Claire cleared her throat and leaned forward over the counter. "Incoming," she muttered out of the side of her mouth.

Sure enough, Payton was making her way to the counter, designer purse swinging. "Could I get an extra large lavender honey latte to go? Extra hot and extra sweet, like me." She glanced over her shoulder at Alex and subconsciously pressed her fingertips to her mouth. "And extra whipped cream on top, too," she added, turning her bold gaze toward the three women at the counter. "I thought my guy out there might need a little pick-me-up."

My guy. Dreamer.

Juno didn't roll her eyes, but it sure took a vat of self-control not to. Liz, however, didn't hold back, but at least she'd turned away so Payton wouldn't see.

"The hot drinks don't come with whipped cream on top," Juno said to the woman. "It immediately dissolves into the drink."

"Fine. Can you put it in a little cup on the side, then?"

Liz's eyes widened. "Like one of those pup cups?" she asked, somehow keeping a straight face.

"Yeah, exactly. But extra. He just loves, loves, loves whipped cream."

"TMI," muttered Liz into her coffee cup before she took a long, slow slurp.

Claire smiled brightly at Payton. "What a nice thing to do," she exclaimed, the slightly higher pitch of her voice the only telltale sign that she, too, was trying to keep her composure. "I hear he likes to read on his lunch hour. You should stop by over at The Cracked Spine and pick him up a book, too." She leaned a little closer to the woman. "He's really into the Outlander Series. Most guys aren't big enough to admit to loving Diana Gabaldon's books, but not Alex Frampton. That man has no shame, whatsoever." The double meaning went right over Payton's head, but it wasn't lost on Liz or Juno, who both had to bite back grins.

Payton gave Claire a bemused frown. "The Cracked Spine? Is that, like, a chiropractor?" Apparently, the whole part about books in general went right over Payton's head, too.

"It's a bookstore," Liz explained when Claire seemed lost for words. She pointed out the window to the shop on the opposite corner. "The books in the window kinda give it away." Claire always had the wildest and most whimsical window displays. Right now, a "flock" of books hung suspended from the ceiling, flying over a lake of books with covers in various shades of blue.

Payton pursed her lips and shook her head. "Um, no," she said, drawing out the words. "It sounds kinda boring. Outlander? Is that like Planet of the Apes or something dumb like that?"

It was Liz who now opened her mouth and closed it, too shocked to speak. No one criticized her big screen ape obsession and lived to tell about it. Claire put a calming hand on her shoulder.

Before either of them could speak, Payton said, "Besides, I want him to spend lunch with me, not with his nose stuck in a book." She pointed at Juno. "Are you going to make that coffee for me?"

A hot, sweet latte in the sweltering heat of mid-July? Really? "Are you sure? Maybe an iced matcha latte? I know he—"

"I know him, too," Payton interrupted. "So please just give me what I ordered, okay?"

Juno pressed her lips together and nodded. She had to admit that Payton probably felt a little fish-out-of-water at that moment, and maybe even ganged up on. The three of them obviously knew each other, and it was probably apparent to Payton that they'd been discussing at least Alex, if not her, too. She nodded and entered the order into her POS tablet. "Coming right up."

"Thank you," Payton said, exasperation making her words breathy. She held out her phone to pay, but Juno shook her head.

"This one's on the house." She wasn't going to charge the woman for an order she knew good and well that no one would drink. Besides, she'd charged Payton for every custom addition she'd requested for her own drink, and the cost had amounted to a ridiculous amount of money; so much, that Juno felt almost ashamed taking anymore from her. And Payton had left a 20% tip on top of it. From the corner of her eye, she saw Liz and Claire exchange glances. She ignored them; she didn't have to explain her business decisions to them.

"Well, thank you," Payton said again, her smile turning genuine, softening her features, making her suddenly look almost lovely, now that the hardness in her eyes had diminished. She turned to look back at Alex, who was now using power tools. "Is he always this..." The blonde gestured vaguely toward the window.

"Helpful?" Liz supplied innocently. "Hardworking? Built like a Greek god?"

Juno shot her friend a warning look, but Liz just grinned.

Payton missed the sarcasm. "Right? You guys know him, don't you? Is he…? He's available, right?" She toyed with a long blonde curl. "We've bumped into each other a few times in the last week, but he's kind of vague about whether he's seeing anyone."

"Alex Frampton? Vague about commitment?" Liz's eyes widened in mock surprise. "I'm shocked. Shocked, I tell you."

The blonde's smile faltered. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Ignore her." Claire gave Liz's shoulder a warning push.

But Liz wasn't finished. "You know, I can see that you're different." She paused meaningfully. "Original. So be direct. Go ask him point blank."

"Here you go, Payton." Juno handed over the enormous latte, silently willing Liz to behave. This wasn't high school, and they weren't mean girls. Even if the blonde was about to embark on a mission that probably wouldn't end the way she was imagining.

"Tell Alex we said, 'hi!'" Claire called after her as Payton headed toward the door, the ruffled hem of her short skirt fluttering provocatively as she walked. Even Pastor Darren lowered his newspaper for just a moment when she passed by his chair. Granted, his eyes never strayed to her skirt, but he smiled warmly at her before returning to the news. He really was such a kind man.

They watched through the window as she crossed the street, said something that made Alex grin, and handed him the cup. She held up her phone, and Alex stepped close to her side, draped an arm around her shoulders, then rested his head on top of hers and grinned into the phone camera as Payton took their selfie. He bent and kissed her cheek in thanks, because whatever his faults, Alex Frampton was unfailingly chivalrous, glanced at the label stuck to the side of the cup, then set the coffee on the tailgate of his truck without taking a single sip.

"That's a lot of physical contact from someone who's all sweaty," Claire commented. "Gross."

"Yeah, gross," Liz echoed. The sarcasm was back in her voice. "Eww. Disgusting."

"You guys are too much." Juno grabbed a drink carrier from off a shelf and put the four lattes Claire had ordered into it. "Your Americano is almost ready."

Across the street, Payton was apparently not getting the response she'd expected. She cocked one hip and pointed at her phone. Alex wiped his brow with a bandana from his back pocket, then gestured at the nearly-finished enclosure he'd constructed. He shook his head, smiled sweetly, then tugged on the same blonde curl Payton had been toying with just a few minutes ago.

Liz let out a sympathetic "Oof," then drained the last of her coffee. "Looks like the show's over. I gotta get going, ladies."

Sure enough, Payton's shoulders slumped as Alex walked her to a Jeep SUV in the salon's parking lot. He held the door open for her, waited for her to climb in, then leaned inside.

"Okay," Claire remarked with a chuckle as she spun on her stool. "Not sure I want to see the rest of that scene."

Liz made a gagging sound, then stood up and pushed a couple of bills into the tip jar on the counter.

Juno had already turned away from the window and was busy with Claire's last drink. She didn't want to see it either. She'd been there once, thinking she was different, special, the one who'd...

No. She was not going down that road again.

The sound of screeching tires got her attention. Alex stood on the sidewalk watching as Payton peeled out of the parking lot. When he turned toward the coffee shop window, Juno quickly looked away.

But not before she saw his big old grin.

That man was trouble with a capital T, and Juno Thomas was done with trouble. No matter how good it looked without a shirt on.