Coconut Iced Coffee (Cupid's Coffeeshop Book 8)

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Coconut Iced Coffee (Cupid's Coffeeshop Book 8) Page 2

by Courtney Hunt


  “Well, DC is a world away from Ashford Falls.” Zooey said absently, her concentration on her sketch. “It’s my hometown though. I lived there until I was about nine when my parents moved us to Connecticut.”

  “Where do you live in Connecticut?”

  “I moved back to Ashford Falls last fall.” Zooey bit her lip, scrutinizing her sketch. She scowled, evidently unhappy with what she saw, and flipped to another page.

  “How come you moved home?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  Charlie simply waited. In his experience, people tended to fill the silence. As he waited, he watched her, charmed by the tiny furrow appearing over her nose as she worked and the way she bit the tip of her pink tongue, squinting at the sketch. The way the sun caught the reddish highlights in her hair, giving her a copper halo. She paused when she noticed him watching her before lowering the sketchpad to her lap.

  “My grandmother died.”

  “I am sorry to hear it.” Charlie thought of his own beloved hale and hearty grandfather. He would be devastated at his loss.

  “I hadn’t seen her in over a decade. She owned this coffeeshop called Cupid’s Coffeeshop.” Zooey picked at the frayed edge of her pink and white striped beach towel, her long fingers shredding the hem. “After my grandfather died, my father and aunt wanted to sell it. My grandmother wouldn’t hear of it. It tore the family apart. When she died, she left the coffeeshop to me, my brother, Patrick, and my cousin, Joe.”

  “She must have loved you three very much.”

  “She did.” Zooey smiled softly.

  “So you run the coffeeshop you inherited?”

  “Yes, but we haven’t quite inherited it yet. There’s a catch.”

  “How intriguing.” Charlie grinned at her. “Tell me more.”

  “Patrick, Joe, and I have to run the coffeeshop for a year. If we make a profit, we get it. If not…” Zooey shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Charlie laughed. “Your grandmother must have been something.”

  “She was.”

  “So, why are you here on Turtle Bay, instead of running your Cupid’s Coffeeshop?” Charlie asked, as the sea breeze picked up, tossing her hair around her face. He caught the scent of her, coconuts and peaches, a mouth-watering combination.

  “Patrick and Joe gave me a trip to the beach for my birthday.” Before he could ask, she rushed on. “I turned 21 today.”

  “Many happy returns.” Charlie said. He’d spent the first years of his life on the island. He knew that tourists didn’t stay long and was wary of developing relationships with them. Still, the thought flitted across his mind that he’d like to celebrate her birthday with her. Where had that come from? “Didn’t want to go out for a night of celebrating being legal with as much alcohol as possible?”

  “Hardly. After my first two weeks of college, getting wasted lost its appeal.” Zooey laughed. “I wanted to go to the beach so Patrick and Joe made it happen.”

  “But now you’re celebrating all alone?”

  “I like being alone.”

  “Is that my cue to leave you to it?” Charlie shifted to sit up but she stopped him with a warm hand on his forearm, the point of her pencil scratching lightly over his skin. The simple press of her fingers stilled him and he looked up into her gorgeous face, their gazes locking.

  “I didn’t mean that I wanted you to go.” The air suddenly seemed still and heavy with portent, like the island before an intense storm. Charlie suddenly knew, without knowing how he did, that this woman could change his life, in the way that a storm sometimes changed the landscape of the island. And like the island boy he’d been, he welcomed the storm, even while fearing the wreckage it might leave. He settled back into the sand, accepting his fate.

  “So, why are you celebrating all alone?”

  “Well, Joe and Patrick are running the shop so I can go away.” Zooey shrugged. “And most of my friends are heading back to college.”

  “Is that where you’re supposed to be?” Charlie tilted his head and quickly straightened again when she scowled at him. “At college?”

  “I don’t know where I’m supposed to be.” Zooey bit her lip, tapping her pencil on the pad. “I was in college for a while but…”

  “Your grandmother’s clever bequest stopped you?”

  “Not exactly.” Zooey shook her head, her hair falling over her face. Charlie’s fingers itched to sweep it away and tuck it behind her ear but he didn’t want to spook her. After all, they were strangers, even if lying next to her on the nearly deserted beach felt intimate, as if they were alone in the world.

  “I dropped out.” She blurted quickly, as though it were a confession. “I’d been studying art.”

  “You didn’t like it? You seem to be quite a talented artist.”

  “I didn’t want to learn about sculpture and painting. I didn’t want to try to interpret what someone else created. I just liked doing my cute little illustrations. My professors had no patience with me and my ‘pedestrian art.’ So I just stopped going…” Zooey shrugged. “I waitressed for a bit, trying to figure out how to support myself with just drawing. I got a few gigs and then I got the call about my grandmother. Here I am. And here’s your sketch.”

  She turned the paper to show him. She’d captured him smiling at her, a relaxed, happy expression on his face. He hadn’t known he could still look like that, joyous and carefree. She tore the paper out of her pad and offered it to him.

  “It’s yours. If you want it.”

  “I will treasure it.” Charlie took the paper, their fingers brushing briefly. Her cheeks pinked under her tan. “Can I thank you by buying you lunch? Or maybe a coffee?”

  “An iced coffee would taste pretty great right now.” She stood, folding up her towel. “Our drink of the month at the coffeeshop is coconut iced coffee and I’ve gotten used to drinking them all day.”

  “Drink of the month?”

  “My cousin creates these crazy recipes.” Zooey laughed. “I didn’t expect to miss it so much when I was so desperate to get away.”

  “I understand.” Charlie glanced around the beach. “That’s exactly how I feel about San Maria.”

  Chapter Four

  “So, does your coffeeshop look like this?” Charlie asked Zooey as they stood in line for their drinks. The beachside island coffeeshop was more of a hut, a tiny wooden shack with mismatched colorful shutters. A large concrete patio, dusted with sand, and topped with a grass roof comprised the seating area. A charming hodgepodge of mismatched painted tables and chairs sat scattered over the floor, most pointing toward the incredible view of the beach they’d just left.

  “Not exactly.” Zooey laughed. “Can’t beat the view here though. Okay, now it’s your turn.”

  “My turn?” Charlie asked as he handed her large iced coffee, already dripping with condensation in the island heat. After he picked up his own drink, he led them to a small table near the edge of the seating area, with a dazzling view of the cove. The sunlight sparkled like mirrors over the water. Fleetingly, she remembered Patrick telling her they were mermaid mirrors when she was a child.

  “You know all about me.” Zooey flirted with Charlie, letting her fingers linger on his forearm for just a heartbeat too long. “Tell me about yourself.”

  Charlie gazed steadily at her for a heartbeat, heat in his eyes the exact color of where the Caribbean Sea met the horizon. A soft smile flirted with his generous mouth before he shook his head. “I don’t know all about you.”

  A delicious frisson shivered over her at the underlying heat in his words. Charlie really was very attractive. Perhaps her solo vacation was about to get much more interesting. “Tell me about you. You’re from here?”

  “I was born about two miles from here and lived here until I was seven.”

  “And what happened when you turned seven?” Zooey sipped her coffee. Though she might be a bit biased, it wasn’t quite as delicious as her cousin’s concoctions. It was still refreshing thoug
h, like the man beside her.

  “My grandfather came, my father’s father.”

  “And what did your father have to say about that?”

  “I have no idea. I never met him.” Charlie shook his head. “My grandfather came to tell us that he was dead.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Zooey placed her hand over Charlie’s hand on the table. He flipped his hand over and wrapped his fingers around hers. The press of their hands together felt natural and right, in a way that it shouldn’t with a man she’d known only a few hours. Still, Zooey let him keep her hand, wanting to hear more of the story.

  “Instead of taking his place in the family law firm, my father ran away to the islands. I think he dreamt of being a beach bum.”

  “Well, he’s not the only one.” Zooey chuckled. “I have that dream about twice a day.”

  “Soon after I was born, he left and my mother never saw him again.” Charlie said. “I was fine with it. Happy growing up here and running around with the other island kids. I didn’t feel the lack.”

  Zooey nodded. She’d been lucky in her parent’s steady, stable marriage but she’d often heard Joe say the same about not knowing his father. She understood.

  “One day, the summer I turned seven, I came home to find an odd car outside. I walked in to find an old man in a dark suit, his hair snow white, sitting on my mother’s sofa, sipping tea.” Charlie smiled softly at the memory. “When I walked in, his eyes filled with tears. He explained that my father told him about me on his deathbed. So he’d come right away. He offered take me home to Boston with him and to send me to the best schools. My mother knew there was no future here for me. She stayed here to care for her parents and I went home with my grandfather.”

  “Wow. That must have been a tough adjustment.” When her parents left Ashford Falls, at least she’d still had them and her brother, even as she lost her cousin and grandmother. She couldn’t imagine leaving everyone she loved behind.

  “It was, at first. I fought against it. He lives outside of Boston, in an old house on the Charles River. That’s where my father got my name, apparently. I hated it. I was always cold. I got to see snow for the first time. But after a while, I realized that school was interesting. My grandfather could make boring history lessons come alive or we’d practice my subtraction with my Hot Wheels.”

  “He sounds like a wonderful grandfather.”

  “He is.” Charlie’s face softened as he talked about his grandfather. “Still my best friend.”

  Zooey smiled, thinking of her brother and cousin, her own best friends.

  “So at first, I would spend the school year with my grandfather and return to the island for the holidays and summer. Eventually, I realized that my coming back to the island meant that my grandfather had to spend Christmas all alone in his great echoing house on the banks of the frozen river. So I begged him to come home to the island with me.”

  “And did he?” Zooey asked, sipping her coffee again.

  “We still spend Christmas here every year.” Charlie grinned. “He’s part of the family now too.”

  “And did you take your father’s place in the family law firm?”

  Charlie tapped his fingers on the table, idly. “I graduated law school in May and sat for the Massachusetts bar in June. I’m waiting for my results.”

  “But then you’ll be part of the firm?”

  “That is what my grandfather wishes.”

  “But?”

  “I don’t know if that’s what I want to do, you know?” Charlie smoothed a hand over his hair. “I like the law and puzzling out a case. But…”

  “But what?” Zooey prompted when he didn’t continue.

  “Well, his firm is corporate law, mergers and acquisitions, antitrust, things like that. I think I’d rather work with people.”

  “Gram’s best friend, Ruby, is a lawyer. She told me once that she faced the same decision—whether to work at one of the big firms downtown or a start her own.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She started her own. Davis & Peterson is one of the top law firms in our tiny town.” Zooey laughed. “It might be the only one now that I think of it.”

  Charlie laughed. “Is she still practicing?”

  “She was, until just this past April. She met up with her long-lost love, Jefferson, and they’re touring the country in his RV together, after a fifty-year separation.” Zooey said. “They were just another victim of the magic of Cupid’s Coffeeshop.”

  “You own a magic coffeeshop?” Charlie’s eyes widened as he looked at her.

  “So far this year, at least seven couples have found their happily-ever-after at Cupid’s Coffeeshop. And Ruby says Gram was always a matchmaker. I don’t think it’s coincidental. Patrick says that we just have comfy chairs and good coffee. But…”

  “Patrick is the Scully to your Mulder then?”

  “An X-Files fan too.” Zooey grinned widely at him, pleased to find she had this small thing in common with her new friend. “I guess that’d be about right.”

  “And what does your cousin say?”

  “Joe is one of Cupid’s victims himself so I think he’s a believer.”

  “Sounds like an amazing place.”

  Zooey grinned. “It is.”

  “I should like to see it.”

  “Anytime you want a cup of coffee.” Zooey grinned. She liked Charlie and she wished…well, it was best not to think that way. She was better off just to enjoy the moment, however fleeting it might be. “If you did pass the bar exam, would you come back here to the island to practice?”

  “The bar exam isn’t nationwide. I’d have to take it again here.” Charlie shook his head, sadness in his incredible turquoise eyes. “But no, I don’t think I would. I am of the island, but not native to it, not anymore.”

  “But maybe if you moved back…”

  “It would not be as it was before.” Charlie shook his head. “I learned this the first summer I was home. I was out swimming, when I should not have been, and got caught in a riptide. I was acting like a native boy, like I knew the dangers of the island, when I didn’t. Not any longer.”

  Zooey sipped the last of her coffee. “Would you like to go for a swim with another mainlander then?”

  Charlie smiled and nodded, taking her hand as they headed back to the beach.

  Chapter Five

  They walked out to the beach together. Now, at late afternoon, the sun hung low in the sky, turning the air to the golden sepia tone of memories even as they lived it. Charlie had the disorienting sense that, just for this perfect golden day, they’d stepped out of time. Being with Zooey felt comfortable. He enjoyed just talking to her, watching her animated pixie face as she told him stories. After just a few hours together, he shared a closeness with Zooey that he hadn’t with any woman in a long time. For the past three years, he’d been as focused as an android on his studies. He’d found little time for himself or for making true relationships. He’d come to some convenient arrangements with his fellow students but he hadn’t had anyone special to enjoy relaxing with for ages. Charlie was surprised to realize that he’d missed having someone special in his life.

  Zooey took his hand and tugged him into the surf. They waded out into waist high water, enjoying the waves breaking over them, cooling their skin from the sun. Together they splashed water, the current bumping them against each other. Charlie dropped a hand to her hip, pulling her against him in a loose embrace, as the gentle waves lapped around them.

  “So, how are you enjoying your birthday so far?” Charlie asked.

  “So far, so good.” Zooey answered, the waves pushing her against him. They embraced in the surf, their bodies pressed together.

  “I know this great place to eat. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Family and friends to see?”

  “I’ve been here for two weeks already. I’ve seen quite enough of my family and friends.” Charlie grinned. “I
don’t have anything scheduled and, to be honest, I’m loving that. For the last three years, I’ve been chasing graduation, assignment after assignment, and then the bar exam as a reward. I feel like I can finally breathe. I’m on island time.”

  “I get it. It’s the same for me. We had three months to renovate the store and learn how to be baristas. We opened on New Year’s Day and it’s been a blur ever since. It’s nice to pause and relax.”

  “So, what would you like to do with the rest of your birthday?”

  “I haven’t found souvenirs for Patrick and Joe yet.”

  “Shopping followed by dinner.” Charlie agreed easily. “We’ll see where the night takes us from there.”

  Zooey beamed at him and Charlie leaned close to her, wanting to capture her lips but a wave splashed against their knees, and she stepped back. The moment dissipated but Charlie was a patient man. He’d get to taste Zooey before the night was through and his heartbeat thrummed with anticipation. She twined her fingers with his and they waded back to shore. She gathered her bag and just as they were walking toward his car, Zooey turned back.

  “Wait. I have one more thing I need to do here.” She reached into her beach bag and pulled out a small mason jar, tinted just a few shades darker than the sea they’d just waded in. She opened the jar and handed him the lid. She bent and scooped up a fistful of sand, letting it drip into the jar. After a few fistfuls, she rummaged in her bag and placed three small shells in the jar.

  “A memento?”

  “When Patrick and Joe gave me this trip, they gave me the jar to fill and bring back. It was a tradition in my family.” She stowed the jar in her striped beach bag and pulled a turquoise and coral striped cover-up over her head. Her hair curled in waves, shot through with auburn and blonde highlights from the sun. She looked like a mermaid.

  “Ready to go shopping, island girl?”

  “Lead the way.”

  “What are you thinking for souvenirs?”

 

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