Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Whitney
Other than grabbing a mug of coffee from the kitchen, I stay in my room with my phone and laptop ready until Donovan’s jet is in the air. While he’s known to send a lot of emails in flight, the urgency of any travel glitches is behind me until he lands and I can handle the flow of normal business communications from anywhere.
Like a fire station, I think as I pull on a blouse and top it with a pant suit. The way I keep anticipating seeing Rob again when every bit of my focus should have been on my boss is a little annoying, but a lot undeniable.
It’s also really hard to deny it’s not only because he’s my partner in this opportunity Donovan has given me, since I had yet another very steamy dream about him last night. I woke up about four o’clock, flushed and aching, and I had a hell of a time going back to sleep.
Today’s going to require a lot of coffee, so my first stop is the General Store. Beth looks unusually thrilled to see me, and when I try to give her my order, she holds up her hand.
“Wait. I want you to try something.” Then she goes to the corner and I hear the coffee machine working. The last time I stopped in, she asked me questions about my usual coffee order when I’m at home, but considering the equipment she has at hand, I don’t get my hopes up. I have no idea what she’s making, but when she hands me an extra-large cardboard cup, I take it. “I think you’ll like this one.”
I take a sip, which feels awkward with her staring expectantly at me. Then I close my eyes and savor the sweet taste of almost perfect coffee before swallowing it.
“I can’t believe you did this for me.”
Beth scoffs, as if it’s no big deal. “Good coffee makes people happy.”
Since I’m smiling and she’s currently one of my favorite people in the world, I can’t deny it. “I appreciate this.”
“How close am I? What do I need to tweak?” She waits, but this coffee is so good, I’m not about to complain. “Come on. Be honest with me.”
“Maybe next time just a hair less sweetener,” I tell her, but then I feel like an ass. “But it’s practically perfect. This is delicious, I promise.”
Beth grins, and then turns to spin a real honest-to-goodness Rolodex. After flipping through some cards, she pulls one out and makes a note on it. I’m curious how she has me filed since I didn’t remember giving her my last name, and I lean in so I can read the top of the card upside-down.
Whitney from NYC.
“I can remake this one for you,” she says after popping my card back into the Rolodex.
I clutch the precious cup to my chest. “No, you’re not taking this from me. I’m going to savor it. You know those people who take the lid off and hold the cup up, getting every last drop? That’s going to be me today.”
Her cheeks flush with pleasure. “Are you heading to the station? I can send a coffee along for the chief because the stuff they brew is an insult to the beverage.”
I can’t disagree, and when I finally find Rob in the kitchen of the firehouse, his entire face lights up. I wish it was for me, but his eyes are on the second coffee cup I’m holding. He reaches for it and takes a cautious sip.
“Thanks for this. And you have great timing. I was waiting on the library’s list, and Erin dropped it off about a half-hour ago.”
I know his sister is the librarian, but I’m still not sure what list he’s referring to. Then he gestures toward a pile of papers with notes scrawled on them dumped on the table. Actually, there are some papers, along with a few sticky notes, an index card, and one envelope from an electric bill. There are a variety of toys, decorations, and candy, along with random other things written on them.
“What are these lists?” I look at the back of the envelope. “Individually wrapped candy canes not made of candy canes? I think that’s what it says, but I’m not sure because the handwriting is atrocious and also it doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s all Santa Fund stuff, and that’s my list,” he says sheepishly. “Those are candy canes to be prizes for the candy cane maze, but that activity is for the little ones, so they shouldn’t actually be real candy canes. Do they make gummy candy canes?”
“I have no idea, but I can find out. Or maybe marshmallow ones?”
He points at me, grinning in a way that makes my skin feel hot. “Even better. That’s how you problem solve.”
“I’m sure I can find something online.”
“Nope. The first step is your favorite thing—organizing for efficiency.”
“It’s not my favorite thing, you know. I’m just very good at it.”
He leans forward. “What is your favorite thing?”
Your smile. The way your breath catches sometimes when you’re watching me and don’t think I can see you. Your forearms. Your ass. “Really good coffee.”
Looking disappointed, he nods at the mishmash of papers I’m still holding. “I don’t have a lot of free time today because of Fire Chief-type stuff, which is a lot less fun than Christmas. So if you can make some sense of those lists, we’ll probably call it good until tomorrow.”
I slide my laptop out of the bag. “It won’t take me long.”
“I have to lock myself in my office for a Zoom meeting in a few minutes. It shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes if nobody goes off on any story-telling tangents, and then I’ll check back.”
There must have been at least a few stories because it’s almost an hour before Rob emerges from his office. After a few false starts while I pushed the papers around, trying to decide how I want to sort them, I decided to group the items by which department they’d be found in if we were in a brick-and-mortar store.
I’m aware of him refilling his water tumbler and his sigh as he stands there waiting for the slow stream from the fridge’s water dispenser. Then he sets the tumbler on the table and pulls a small notebook and pen out of his back pocket and tosses them beside it before sitting down.
Because it looks as if he might be jotting down some notes from his meeting, I’m quiet until he’s done and clips the pen to the front cover of the notebook.
“Okay,” I say, pushing back my chair. “The spreadsheet’s sorted and color-coded. It’s quite a list.”
“It always is. Can you send it to the printer, please?”
“Why print it? I can go back to the inn and run the price comparison app I use to?—”
“Nope. Just print it out.”
“Okay. Then what do we do with it?”
“We shop.” He swivels in his chair and gives me a grin that fills me with dread. “I have to meet some of the guys at the lake for a training exercise now, but I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at nine sharp. Oh, and you should wear comfortable walking shoes.”