Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cooper
The Coffee Cove was crowded wall-to-wall for a Saturday morning, with familiar faces filling every table and a line of locals stretching out the door. Word of the kiss had spread quickly through town, drawing curious residents eager for gossip.
I tamped grounds with perhaps more force than necessary and pulled another shot of espresso. Sleep had evaded me most of the night, leaving me with dark circles under my eyes and a mind that wouldn’t stop replaying the events at Barnacle Brews the previous evening.
My lips still tingled with the phantom sensation of Jack’s mouth against mine. The memory of his kiss—firm but gentle, hesitant yet somehow confident—ambushed me at random moments and sent an unexpected flutter through my stomach. No kiss had ever left me so completely disoriented.
It was the unexpectedness, I told myself. The public setting. The adrenaline of the confrontation with Brad. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was Jack—my best friend, my rock, the one person who’d been a constant in my life for over a decade. Of course it didn’t.
And yet…I couldn’t deny how my hand had moved of its own accord to the back of his neck and kept him there for just a moment longer than necessary.
How the taste of him—hops from the IPA mixed with something distinctly Jack—had made me forget we were in a crowded brewpub with half the town watching.
“Earth to Cooper.” Jessica waved a hand in front of my face. “That milk is done.”
I blinked, suddenly aware of the pitcher in my hand, steam billowing out as the milk threatened to overflow. “Right. Thanks.”
I finished the decaf vanilla latte I was making for Mrs. Abernathy and slid it across the counter. She accepted it with an astute smile.
“You seem distracted this morning.” Her eyes twinkled behind her bifocals. “Though I suppose that’s understandable, given the excitement last night.”
My cheeks warmed. “News sure travels fast.”
“Oh, honey.” She patted my hand. “When Seacliff Cove’s most eligible bachelor finally gets himself a boyfriend—and it’s his best friend who’s been mooning over him for months—people are going to talk.”
“Jack hasn’t been…” Had he been secretly yearning for me all this time? Could that explain his enigmatic glances, laden with meaning I couldn’t decipher? Was I that oblivious?
“You two make a lovely couple.” She gave my hand another pat before she took her latte and book to her usual table in the back.
I busied myself with the next order and tried not to let my gaze drift to the corner by the windows where Jack sat concentrating on his phone.
He’d arrived an hour after opening. He’d looked as sleepless as I felt and ordered an Americano with an extra shot.
We’d exchanged awkward pleasantries. Neither of us mentioned the kiss or Isabelle’s enthusiastic drafting of us as the event’s “cutest couple.”
The bell above the door jingled, and Garrett Walker entered with his five-year-old son, Noah, in tow. His boyfriend, the bestselling author Ethan Quinn brought up the rear. As a deputy sheriff, Garrett had his finger on the pulse of the community.
“Cooper!” Garrett’s voice carried across the shop. “There’s the man of the hour!”
I suppressed a groan and plastered on my customer service smile. “Morning, Garrett.” I nodded. “Noah. Ethan.”
“Dad told Mr. Ethan that you and Mr. Jack are dating,” Noah announced with the bluntness only children could get away with. “Does that mean Mr. Jack gets free coffee?”
“Noah,” Garrett admonished, though he was clearly fighting a smile.
“That’s a good question, bud.” I stalled for time. “What can I get you this morning?”
“The usual, please. Large black coffee for me, hot chocolate for Noah, and a large pumpkin spice latte for Ethan.” Garrett leaned across the counter and lowered his voice. “And seriously, Cooper, it’s about time. The tension between you two was getting ridiculous.”
“We weren’t—”
“Save it.” Garrett winked. “Ethan and I had a bet going. He said you’d hold out until Valentine’s Day, but I knew it would happen sooner.”
I turned to make their drinks, grateful for the momentary escape. What was going on? Had the entire town been speculating about Jack and me? And why hadn’t I noticed? I shook my head. I really was dense.
As I worked, I couldn't help glancing toward Jack’s corner again, where he was talking to Ethan. Jack’s hands moved animatedly as he spoke. I stared at the way his fingers flexed and remembered how they’d felt against my shoulders last night, steady and reassuring.
I tore my gaze away, unsettled by the direction of my thoughts.
A few minutes later, I announced, “Garrett. Order’s up.” I set the drinks on the counter.
“Thanks, Coop.” Garrett paid and dropped a generous tip in the jar.
“By the way, Isabelle’s already talking about you two being the kings of the Valentine’s Day dance.
Better you than Ethan and me.” He gave a dramatic shiver.
He lowered his voice and leaned in. “Mason and Caleb feel the same way—they’re going to stuff the ballot box with your names. ”
“Great,” I muttered, not even attempting enthusiasm.
“If you win, just smile, wave, and try not to trip during your solo dance.” He chuckled, his grin smug.
Solo dance? The thought of slow dancing with Jack sent another flutter through my stomach. I pushed it firmly away.
The morning continued in that vein: a parade of customers offering congratulations, knowing looks, and, in some cases, explicit relief that Jack and I had “finally figured it out.” Each one compounded my confusion and the growing realization that our impulsive act had opened a Pandora’s box we might not be able to close.
I was sliding a latte across the counter when the bell over the door jingled again. I didn’t look up right away, but the mood of the chatter in the shop changed. Sharpened.
I glanced up—and my stomach dropped. Ben.
He sauntered into the shop like he still had a claim here, like the past ten months hadn’t happened at all. His dark eyes swept the room until they landed on me—and then flicked over to Jack.
The smirk that curled his mouth was a punch straight to the gut.
I watched in growing dread as Ben made his way across the shop with predatory grace. He paused at Jack’s table and leaned down to say something I couldn’t hear over the hiss of the espresso machine and the chatter of other customers.
Whatever Ben whispered made Jack’s face blanch stark white. Jack’s eyes darted to me across the room, and I saw something terrible flicker there—doubt, fear, maybe even betrayal. My chest constricted as if someone had wrapped steel bands around my ribs and was slowly tightening them.
Ben straightened up with that same satisfied smirk and sauntered toward the counter, hands in his pockets like he owned the place. Jack remained frozen at his table and stared down at his coffee as if he could find answers in the cup.
“What did you say to him?” I demanded the moment Ben reached the counter, my voice low and dangerous. My hand shook as I gripped a milk pitcher.
Ben’s smile widened, all teeth and malice. “Just the truth, Cooper. Someone had to tell him.”
“What truth?” The words came out as a snarl. “What lies did you fill his head with?”
Ben shrugged with infuriating casualness. “No lies necessary. The truth about you is damaging enough.”
In the middle of ringing up a regular, Jessica hesitated mid-tap. She glanced at me, questioning. I gave the smallest shake of my head. She turned back to her customer, but the tension in the air was palpable.
“Order something or get out of the way,” I ground out between clenched teeth.
He laughed under his breath, a low, unpleasant sound. “Heard the big news. You and Jack, huh?” His tone was heavy with derision. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You always did have a thing for…charity cases. Never could drop him, even when we were together.”
My hand tightened around the milk pitcher, but I forced myself to finish the drink carefully before sliding it onto the pickup counter.
Ben leaned closer and dropped his voice. “You’re gonna regret this, Cooper. You’ll wake up one day and realize you lost the best thing you ever had.”
I met his eyes then, my voice cold and flat. “I can do much better than someone who fucks around behind my back and is too stupid to think I wouldn’t hear about it in a town that likes its gossip even more than my impeccable coffee.”
Something dark flashed in his expression, and he pushed off the counter with a lazy shrug.
“You’ll see.” His gaze darted toward Jack again, sitting stone-still by the windows, his jaw tight.
“And by the way,” Ben added, voice low and cutting, “good luck keeping this place together without someone who actually knows what he’s doing.
” He smiled as if he’d scored some kind of victory.
“I always cleaned up your messes. Wonder who’s gonna do it now. ”
He turned and sauntered out, the door jingling behind him.
I exhaled slowly, my hands braced against the counter.
At the windows, Jack glared daggers after him, murder practically radiating off him. He caught my eye, his fists clenched on the table like he was two seconds from charging after Ben.
I shook my head. Forget it. Not worth it.
Jack’s jaw worked, but he stayed seated, shoulders rigid with barely contained fury.
I turned back to the espresso machine, scrubbed at the steaming wand that was already clean, and tried to steady the churn in my stomach.
Ben’s words slithered under my skin, cold and poisonous.
Was he bluffing? Just bitter?
Or did he know something?
The thought curdled in my gut like spoiled milk. I didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to think he’d sabotage everything I’d built just because we were no longer together.
But the timing…the bitterness…the veiled threats…
I finished the next drink and placed it on the counter with a steady hand, even as my heart thudded painfully. All I could do was keep moving and keep smiling.