You Mocha Me Crazy (Coffee Loft: Fall Collection)

3. Aurora

Chapter three

Aurora

Beep beep beep . The sound of the garbage truck penetrates my dream and startles me awake. I open my eyes and am greeted by the bright morning sun streaming through the sheer yellow curtains of my bedroom window. Stretching my arms above my head, I wiggle my fingers and take a deep breath.

Wait! Sunshine?

I jump up, reaching for my glasses and knocking them off the table. Not today!

Gingerly, I slide out of bed and onto all fours, feeling around for the missing glasses. Figures I’d wake up late today. So much for being taken seriously. UGH!

Finally, my fingertips find the errant glasses. Snatching them off the floor, I slam them on my face and search for the alarm clock. The one I swore I set when I went to bed last night.

Six-oh-five. Coffee beans! I’m so late.

I rush to the kitchen and grab my phone from the charging station. I read it was bad to keep a phone near you when you’re sleeping, leading me to create the cute charging station as far away from my bed as possible. Hence the old-school alarm clock that was supposed to wake me up—two hours ago.

I swipe the screen, pull up Lacey’s number, and press dial. Please let her answer!

“Rory, where are you?” Lacey whispers. “I opened the shop, but you’re about to miss the meeting with your . . . Hello, Mr. Maxwell. Right on time. Take a seat and I’ll bring you some fresh coffee.” Lacey pauses a moment, waiting for my dad to take his seat, I’m sure. I picture my dad, looking around the coffee shop—my coffee shop—wondering where I am. “Get here! I can’t do this without you!”

I open my mouth to reply, but the click on the other end lets me know she’s already hung up. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a big breath. Nothing to do but do it, right? I rush back down the hallway to my room. One glance at the closet, and I realize I’ve forgotten to swap the laundry loads. Perfect.

I snag a pair of jeans from the pile of “wear again” clothes on the treadmill in the corner that functions more as a second wardrobe than exercise equipment these days, and pull them up over my hips. Thank goodness I have a Coffee Loft polo still hanging in the closet. After yanking my hair into a messy bun, and brushing my teeth for two whole minutes, I slip on my shoes, grab my keys, and sprint to my car.

Ten minutes later, I pull open the door to the Coffee Loft. “Sorry I’m late,” I start, looking around at the rest of the tables, which are blessedly empty of patrons. “I was . . . What are you doing here?” My mouth drops open. Blood rushes from my head to my torso, where my stomach feels like it’s being weighed down by a box of rocks. This cannot be happening .

“Nice to see you again, Aurora.” Bradley stands, reaching his hand out to shake mine. He gives me his signature smirk. The same one he used to flash when he teased me in the sixth grade. His dark eyes are twinkling with mirth. “I was wondering when we’d bump into each other.”

I sputter. “What . . . Why?” Looking down at his outstretched hand, I do the right thing and place my hand in his before quickly jerking it back. Not before I felt a zing up my arm. I must have slept funny and pinched a nerve. Yeah. That explains it. I roll my shoulders.

“Oh, good,” my father says, before taking a gulp of his coffee, not bothering to rise from his seat. “You two know each other. That should make this easy!” He grins. Blissfully unaware that this was the boy who caused his little girl to come home crying at least once a week in sixth grade. Well, indirectly, anyway.

Unease slithers down my spine when my brain registers what my father just said. “Make what easy, Daddy?” I ask, adding a touch of sugar to my tone. I may be an adult, but I’m still a daddy’s girl.

“Bradley heads up the Lost Creek Construction team in Piney Brook. He’ll be the one doing the build-out and connection for Matti’s Playhouse and the Coffee Loft.” He sits back and smiles. “We talked about that, remember? I wanted you two to use the crew I recommended.”

I shake my head. “I mean, we talked about using Lost Creek Construction,” I say. “I don’t think you mentioned who would head up the project. I just assumed it would be . . .” I take a breath. “Someone . . . else.”

Dad laughs. “After meeting Bradley when we signed the contract last week, I’m sure he’s the right one for the job.” He pats Bradley on the shoulder and takes a bite of donut, effectively closing the conversation.

“Great!” Lacey says, her voice a little too loud and ?squeaky. “Now that we have that worked out, let’s go over the plan.” She pats the seat next to her. “I saved you a spot, Aurora.”

Realizing I’m stuck, I slide into the seat next to Lacey and put on my best face. I wrap my hands around the steaming mug of hot cocoa, the heat grounding me. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”

For the next twenty minutes, I do my best to listen to the plans for the renovation next door. It’s hard to concentrate, with Bradley eyeing me every chance he gets. His deep brown eyes sparkle in the morning light, and his dirty blonde hair is mussed like he’s run his hands through it already. I mentally give myself a shake. I can’t find him attractive. Not Bradley, the boy who tormented me in sixth grade.

“So, we’ll need to barricade the area for the connection when we get to that step. Ideally, you’d close the shop for the day, but I understand that may not be possible.” Bradley meets my eyes and waits.

“What? Oh, no. I’d like to stay open if possible. We get a lot of regulars, and I don’t want to disrupt their routines.”

He nods and continues. His words sound further and further away as I retreat into my own chaotic thoughts. His eyes meet mine, and he winks.

I thought he was cute in elementary school, but he’s grown into a very handsome man. If I looked at him like that. Which I don’t, thank you very much. Who cares if he has shoulders that look strong enough to carry three bags of coffee beans at a time? Or that he’s got just the right amount of scruff on his chin to be attractive, yet not overly hairy.

I’m sure he’s a bad kisser, though. There has to be something wrong with him. That thought brings a slight smile to my face, and I dip my head to hide it.

Suddenly, I wonder if he’ll make fun of my hair again. Raising a hand, I smooth the mess that is my bun. If I hadn’t overslept, I’d have taken more time to get ready this morning.

Oh, who am I kidding? A ponytail, jeans and a Coffee Loft shirt are my standard uniform. Why bother dressing in expensive clothes when I’m just going to spill drinks all over them? I sneak a peek at Bradley and my mind shoots me right back to the playground in sixth grade.

The replay of the first day he’d made my life miserable playing in technicolor in my head. Bradley stopped me by the swings, reached out and grabbed my hair. “Your hair feels like my bunny,” he said, a huge grin on his face. The girls in my class laugh and tease me mercilessly.

“How does that sound, Aurora?” My dad’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

All eyes are on me as I struggle to recall what was just said. “Uh, sure.” I blink away the tears pricking at the back of my eyelids and glance at Lacey, hoping that I’ve said the right thing. Her wide-eyed stare tells me I’ve missed the mark.

“Great!” Bradley says, beaming his thousand-watt smile at me.

I nod, pasting a pleasant look on my face. “Great.”

“Well, now that’s settled,” Dad says, standing from his seat. “I’m going into the office. Keep me updated, won’t you?”

Bradley stands and shakes my dad’s hand. “Absolutely, sir. I’ll walk you out.”

“Let’s go get the counter ready for customers,” Lacey says, nodding her head to the counter. She gathers all the dirty dishes from the table and nearly sprints behind the counter.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll just check the water in the flower vases.” The single gerbera daisy in each vase brings some added color to the space. I take my time and check each table before stepping behind the counter. I reach for my favorite cup and fill it with the nectar of the morning, a Mochaccino. The turquoise and beige mug reminds me of the beach trip I took last year. Closing my eyes, I visualize myself on the beach, toes in the sand, breeze in my hair. Perfection. “What do you think about getting a collection of coffee mugs with different designs and sayings on them for customers to use?”

“That sounds great,” Lacey says. “Beats the plain white mugs we’ve been using.”

“We could create a whole wall of mugs,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee. “Maybe even have some to purchase. Coffee Loft merchandise . . . I like it!” Turning, I watch as Dad makes small talk while he waits for Bradley to roll up the plans and slide them back into a cardboard tube leaning against the wall.

“Okay,” I whisper. “That didn’t go too badly, though I wish they’d wrap it up and get out of here.”

I sneak a good look at Bradley now that his attention isn’t on me. He’s too good looking for his own good. Every girl in elementary school had a huge crush on him. He could’ve focused on any of them, but no . . . he’d picked me as his target.

I turn to Lacey when I feel her staring at me. She meets my gaze, one eyebrow raised in question. “No,” she says softly. “It went fine. Except the part where you were late and spaced out the whole time.”

I cringe. “Sorry, I was surprised, that’s all.” Now that I’ve had some time to think about it, Bradley being in charge of the build-out is fine. I’m not in grade school anymore. Besides, he’ll spend his time next door, and I won’t even have to see his chiseled jaw or eyes like melted chocolate.

She nods. “So, you know Bradley?” A knowing smile teases her lips when she sees me staring again.

I finish the sweet drink in my mug before answering. “Yeah, I do. We went to elementary school together.” I don’t add that I’d actively avoided him anytime he’d popped up in town after that.

“Have fun tonight, Aurora.” Dad winks at me before stepping out the door and onto the street.

Bradley smiles and lifts his hand in an awkward wave as he turns and follows my dad outside.

“What’s tonight?” I ask Lacey, confused.

Her eyes dance with laughter. “Your dinner date with Bradley.”