You Mocha Me Crazy (Coffee Loft: Fall Collection)

18. Bradley

Chapter eighteen

Bradley

“So,” I say, setting a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Aurora. “Are you a cat person or a dog person?”

She takes a bite of the eggs. “These are good. Fluffy.” She takes another bite and swallows down some of her coffee. “I’m a dog person. You?”

I slap my hand on my chest in mock surprise. “That’s it. I guess we aren’t meant to be after all.” She laughs and I revel in the sound. “I have a cat.”

“What’s its name?” she asks, pushing around the last of the egg on her plate.

“Bagel. He’s a sweet little thing. He loves to cuddle and sleep.” I finish my eggs and grab both our plates and take them to the sink.

“You cooked, I’ll wash.” Aurora stands and joins me at the sink. “Do you need to call someone to check on him?”

I glance at the clock. “I will when it’s not so early. My neighbor can check in on him.” Mr. O’Malley next door is retired and spends his days front porch sittin’ as he calls it. He watches the kids walk to and from school, waves at the older women out for their daily stroll, and generally has his finger on the pulse of our little street.

“That’s good,” she says. “I don’t hate cats by the way.”

I hold back my smile . . . barely. She didn’t like that joke. Why does that make my heart soar in my chest?

“Looks like we have a chance after all.” I wink and grab the dish towel to dry the dishes and put them away. “What kind of movies do you like?”

“Are we playing twenty questions?” she asks, as she rinses the skillet and places it in the dish drainer.

I shrug. “May as well. What else do we have to do right now?”

She looks at me, her eyes straying to my lips before averting her gaze out the little window above her kitchen sink, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Not much.”

“So . . .” I prompt.

“I prefer romcoms, but I also like action movies. Especially the superhero ones.” She dries her hands on a towel and leans against the counter. “Your turn.”

I purse my lips and look away like I’m thinking about it. “Well, superhero movies are good, but I really like sci-fi or fantasy movies.”

“Like Lord of the Rings ?” she asks.

“Yeah, or Star Wars .” I lean against the opposite counter mirroring her posture. “What’s your favorite thing to do in the snow?”

She shivers. “Stay inside. Did you happen to turn on the heater when you woke up?”

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t know what you usually kept it set to, so I left it.” She walks to the thermostat on the hallway wall just outside the kitchen and pushes some buttons. “There, that should help take the chill out of the air.”

“What do you want to do now?” I ask, grateful for the heat I can feel coming through the vents. I almost stayed in bed this morning. I don’t do so well with the cold, but I wasn’t about to let her know that.

“We could watch a movie,” she suggests. “Or play cards? I think I have a pack around here somewhere.”

“Why don’t you cue up a movie, and I’ll make us both a fresh cup of coffee?” Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, and it wobbles when she nods.

“Sure. Thanks.”

When she’s out of sight, I let out a deep breath and bow my head. I’m not big on praying these days, but today, I could use some help. After sending up a prayer, I make the cups and join her in the living room.

She’s curled up on the sofa, her feet under her, the beachy afghan covering her lap, and the remote in her hand. I can’t think of a time she’s ever been more beautiful. “Here we go,” I say, handing her a mug. “What did you decide on?”

She grins and I know she’s picked something sappy on purpose. “ My Girl . It’s one of my favorites.”

Ouch. “Uh, okay.” I settle into the couch beside her. “That’s a sad one.”

She shakes her head. “Yes, and no. Of course it’s sad when her friend dies, but it’s also a story of renewal and growing up. Vada goes through a lot, but she learns that she’s got people around her who support her, too.”

I ponder her description for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Here’s hoping I don’t cry.” The last time I watched My Girl was with Mom and by the end we were both sobbing.

She presses play and settles back onto the couch. After a few minutes, she shifts, and her body leans closer to me. I take a chance, and drape my arm on the back of the sofa. I’m letting Aurora take the lead here. While I’d like to announce to the world I found my person, I get that she’s been hurt in the past and needs some time.

When she leans into me and lays her head on my shoulder, I can’t help but smile and squeeze her a little closer. By the end of the movie, my shirt is wet with her tears, and my arm is starting to go numb, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“See,” she says, turning the T.V. off. “Isn’t it great?”

I still don’t see the appeal in watching a movie I know will make me cry, but I find myself agreeing. “Best movie I’ve seen in years.”

Her smile lights up the room. “Now what?” She stands and stretches her back, groaning with the movement. “Should we check the status of the roads?”

I shake my head. “It won’t make much difference until they get through your street, but I can go shovel the driveway and sidewalk. I need to call Mr. O’Malley and see if he’ll check on Bagel.”

She nods. “I’ll join you. Let me go put on some snow pants.”

Twenty minutes later, we are out in the cold, shovels in hand, working together to clear the driveway.

“I should invest in a snow blower,” Aurora says. “I don’t know if I could do this whole driveway myself.” She stands and leans against the shovel handle. “This is hard.”

I grin and wipe the sweat from my brow. “It is. But it feels good to be moving in the sunshine, don’t you think?” Thwap. A snowball hits me square in the chest.

“Feels great,” Aurora says giggling.

She launches another snowball at me, but this time I move and it misses. Leaning down, I scoop up some of the fluffy snow and pack it into a perfect sphere in my gloved hands. “You want to fight?” I tease, aiming for her pink and purple snow pants. I smirk, and let the snowball fly. It manages to hit her calf as she runs away.

“Truce,” she says, holding up her hands in surrender and laughing. “I call a truce.”

I dust the snow off my not-so-waterproof clothes. “I thought so.” I reply, still grinning. “That was fun, though.”

While I was cleaning myself off, she must have snuck around behind me, because all of a sudden, she stuffs a snowball down my shirt and the cold wet snow slides down my back, causing me to jump up and down in the driveway. “Cold. Cold. Ooohhh, you’ve done it now!”

Aurora takes off in a run, laughing like a kid who just discovered the joy of a snow day. I take off after her, not quite catching her. I love seeing her free and uninhibited.

After playfully chasing and dodging each other, I finally manage to catch her. Smiling, I spin her around to face me.

I stare at her lips, pink and full, wondering what it would be like to feel them on mine. When she sighs and moves a little closer, I decide to go for it. I take a step closer . . . my mind already buzzing with the thrill of finally touching her soft lips with mine . . . and slip on a patch of icy snow. Flailing my arms in a desperate attempt to stay upright, I manage to grab onto her coat, causing us both to tumble and land in the soft snow.

“Sorry,” I say, rolling off of her and helping her sit up. “I slipped.”

She smiles softly, a hint of laughter dancing in her eyes. “Does that mean you’re not going to kiss me now?” she asks, her voice tinged with anticipation.

My heart leaps in my chest and does some acrobatics I’ve only seen performed at the Olympics before settling back down. “I’d like to kiss you,” I say, leaving the ball in her court.

“Then what are you waiting for?” she whispers in invitation.

That’s all I need. My heart races as I lean in and press my lips to hers. The world fades away, and nothing is left but the feel of her lips on mine and the sweet hum she makes. Relishing in the feel of her soft mouth finally against mine, I tilt my head and deepen the kiss. Her hands reach out and rest on my chest, and the touch feels like home.

I’ve dreamed of this kiss off and on since sixth grade, and nothing I imagined even comes close to her softness, and the electricity buzzing up my spine. I want to press my lips against hers every day of my life starting today. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. I never want to let her go.

When she pulls away, we are both breathing heavily, and grinning from ear to ear. I push to my feet and help her stand back up, just as the snowplow comes barreling down the street, a wave of snow piling up against the curb. “Looks like we can leave soon.”

She glances behind me at the driveway. “If we get this cleared we can.”

Right, the driveway. We’d barely made a dent before we got sidetracked playing in the snow. “I’ll keep shoveling while you go inside and change. Then we can head into town and see what’s open.”

“Thanks,” she says, leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. “This was fun.” The brightness in her eyes and her rosy cheeks speak the truth of her words.

“It was.” More fun than I’ve had in years, and it’s all thanks to the woman whose pink and purple pants are making swishing noises as she walks toward the house.