Espresso Your Love (The Coffee Loft Series: Fall Collection)

1. Cassie

1

Cassie

The cool air hits my face as I make my way through town. The leaves are starting to change colors. After a vigorous run this morning through town square, I’m ready to face the day. The upside of owning your own event planning business means you can make your own schedule and you can work from anywhere. The downside of owning your own business is that you work all the time. It’s a good thing my best friend is a barista at my favorite coffee shop in town so I get to work and see her too.

Ashley and I have known each other all of our lives. Well, since the second grade. She was the new kid in town, and instantly, we were inseparable. We are polar opposites in every way, but somehow, it just works. I have to warm up to people, but she lights up the room immediately. I’m a measly 5’3”, and she’s 5’9”. She’s a dark brunette with freckles and hazel eyes. I’m blonde with pale skin and sky-blue eyes. But I don’t know where I’d be without her all these years.

The bell chimes as I walk through the old historic building. Although, nothing in here says old after the recent renovations. Ashley’s family opened Coffee Loft here last year in the old bookstore. They added modern touches but kept a lot of the charm which is very important here in Meadowbrook, Alabama.

The brick is exposed along one wall with bar stools and a bar table lining it. A big sign hangs above it. The bay windows on either side of the door are lined with built in benches. The stairs lead to the second story loft which is my favorite place to work. The half wall opening allows the soothing noises of coffee brewing to come through, but it’s still away from the hustle and bustle of people coming in and out. Nobody really goes up there in the morning, which I’m grateful for. It’s like my own little sanctuary.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Ashley’s cheerful voice rings through the shop.

“Morning, Ash.” I give her a warm smile as I reach the counter.

“Right on time! Charity just dropped off this morning's donuts,” Ashley says.

My stomach rumbles just at the thought of her baked goods. Charity and her sister, Hope, own the local bakery, and everything they make tastes like heaven. I haven’t had one item that I didn’t like. They make special batches just for Coffee Loft, and every fall, they make new flavors. Last year, my favorite was the Pumpkin Cream Cheese Muffins. I’m glad it was chunky sweater season so I could hide the extra pounds I gained.

Ashley grabs a few boxes and sets them next to me. Chimes ring as people come and go. This is always the busiest time.

“Hey, can you put these in the display?”

I walk around the counter as Ashley goes to the register to ring up the next customer.

Pumpkin-spiced donuts, cranberry orange, and plain glazed, oh my! As I place them in the display, my mind wanders through everything I have to get done today.

I finish the donut display and walk to the wall of mugs. Yes, a full wall of mugs for the regulars. And every season, they sprinkle in some seasonal mugs too. I grab my favorite fall mug. It’s simple—white with teal outlined pumpkins, leaves, and acorns—but something about it just makes me happy. It’s the lofty size, the biggest size Coffee Loft offers, and the only size I ever get. There are only three things I need in this world—my planner, my lofty coffee, and Gilmore Girls reruns.

Ash finishes with the customer and turns back to the espresso machine.

“I’m sampling a new drink from our fall specials, the Salted Caramel Latte: two shots of espresso, steamed milk with caramel syrup, a little whipped cream, a drizzle of caramel, and a sprinkle of sea salt.”

“Oooh. Sounds delicious.”

Ashley finishes my drink, and as she takes another order for a tall man, I grab my drink and head upstairs.

I set my coffee down on the table and pull my computer out of my bag. Today, I’m working on Meadowbrook’s Autumn Festival. One of our town’s favorite events. We have all sorts of vendors and activities. I start typing out my to-do list. Last year, I was the assistant coordinator, and it gained a lot of traction. People from other nearby cities came to join us. This year, we’re expecting an even bigger turnout. It’s incredible but requires a little more planning on my part.

I’ve been planning events since I was ten. It started with my own birthday parties, then friends’ birthday parties. I was in the Associated Student Body, ASB for short, throughout middle school and high school, planning all the school events from fundraisers to formals to spirit week.

Mrs. Whittaker worked in Los Angeles for high-end clients then moved back home to Meadowbrook and worked as the ASB director for the high school and the town. She retired at the beginning of this year but was the best mentor. And now, I’m the town’s event planner.

Since we’re projecting more participants this year, we have to plan for more security and safety precautions. I have a few more details to iron out then I have to meet with Chief Dobbs to work on the protocols.

I grab my iPad, open my digital calendar, and jot down a few upcoming deadlines. If I don’t have my checklists and calendars, I'd be lost. I’m a details girl—it’s why I’m so good at my job.

A shadow hovers over me, and I move my gaze upwards. Tennis shoes. Jeans. Formfitting T-shirt. Muscles. Lots of muscles. How many muscles can one guy have? Chiseled jaw with a five o'clock shadow. Striking green eyes. Perfectly tousled brown hair.

The man gives me a smirk and points to the chair across from me. “Do you mind if I…?”

Words. I need words, but I can’t seem to find them. What on earth is going on with me?

“Uhh, yes.” I shake my head. “I mean no.” I shuffle in my seat and clear my throat. “No, I don’t mind. No one is sitting there.”

He sits down holding a lofty-sized to-go cup and a brown paper bag. He has a book tucked under his arm. I was so distracted by his plethora of muscles, that I’m only now noticing the German shepherd next to him.

“Thanks,” he says. He sets his coffee on the table in between us, grabs a donut from the paper bag, and starts reading. The German shepherd lies down next to his chair.

He bites into his donut and then looks up at me. I realize I’ve been staring at him this whole time so I quickly look down at my computer and start typing. None of it makes sense—it looks like I fell asleep on my keyboard hitting the same keys over and over again. But it keeps me busy. Hopefully, he doesn’t think anything of it. Cause wow, Cass, rude much? You’d think I’ve never seen an attractive guy before.

Autumn Festival. Lists. Contacts. To-dos. Okay, I’m back on track. I have to set up a meeting with Chief Dobbs. Talk to town hall about any additional permits needed. Paige, an old friend of mine, is a graphic designer, and I need to check in on the progress of the festival programs. Alright, back in the flow! No devilishly handsome man can derail me from such an important event!

The most adorable whine distracts me, and I look up. The dog has his head propped on the man’s lap, nudging his arm. The man sticks the last bite of donut in his mouth, dusts his hand on a napkin, then idly starts petting the dog’s head while he reads his book.

What is it about this man and his dog that has me so intrigued? I can’t even focus on getting work done, which is never a problem for me. But it’s so sweet, the sense of companionship between them. The man stops rubbing the dog's head. I quickly duck my head down again to continue typing absolute nonsense on my computer. I see him pick up his coffee and take a sip.

I hear the dog make the noise again, almost like a sneeze, and the man sets his coffee down again and starts petting the dog’s head again.

“Sorry about Max here,” the man says, not tearing his eyes from his book. “He’s wanting some extra attention this morning. Do you like dogs?” He finally looks at me.

“Yes, I love dogs. He’s cute,” I say as my eyes bounce between Max’s puppy eyes and the man’s green ones.

“Good.” He looks back at his book, turning the page.

He dog-ears the book page and sets it on the table. “I’m Ryan.” He holds out his hand to me.

I’ll try not to hold that against him. It’s one of the many no-no’s of a book reader.

“I’m Cassie; nice to meet you, Ryan.” I reach out and place my hand in his.

A surge of electricity flows from my fingers to my toes. What is it about him that is making my stomach squirm? I haven’t felt this way about anyone since…well…since ever actually.

“Cassie, it’s nice to meet you too.” He slowly releases my hand from his.

Max wanders around the table and raises his paw. I glance at Ryan who gives me a nod of reassurance.

“And hello to you too, Max.” I grab his paw and gently shake it. He lays his head on my lap, and I pet his head. “Is he normally so friendly with strangers?”

“He knows a good person when he meets one,” Ryan laughs. “So what brings you to Coffee Loft this morning, besides halfheartedly typing on your computer?” he teases.

I feel my cheeks turning red. “Well, I was working, but Mr. Max, here, was a bit distracting.” I ruffle the top of Max’s head. Those words come out easily. Something about Ryan puts me at ease and makes me feel comfortable—while also sending a billion butterflies to my stomach.

“Sometimes distractions can be good, don’t you think?” The corner of Ryan’s mouth curves into a smile.

“Depends on the distraction.” I give him a grin back then look at Max. “And you are the best kind of distraction, aren’t you, buddy?” I say in a high-pitched voice.

I hear Ryan’s phone buzz, and he pulls it out of his pocket.

“Excuse me.” He stands and walks away as he answers the phone.

When he comes back, he looks apologetic. “Duty calls. It was really nice meeting you, Cassie.”

“You too, Ryan. Bye, Max!”

He grabs his book and coffee and heads down the stairs.

I watch them as they go. Before he walks out of the door, he turns, looks up at me, and smiles.

A short conversation with a stranger, a cute pup, and a dozen butterflies later, I know one thing—he’s a distraction alright.