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0451471040 Page 14

by Kimberly Lang


  “About an hour.” She lowered her voice. “I did switch them to half-caf on the last refill. I’m afraid they’ll stress themselves into a stroke.” Sam smiled as she refilled a coffee for another customer. “And by the way”—she turned back to him—“did something happen between you and Molly?”

  He stiffened involuntarily, but Sam didn’t seem to notice. He tried to sound casual. “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “When she started in on her weekly freak-out today, I told her to call you.”

  “And?”

  “She got all flustered and knocked over her coffee. Then she started swearing.”

  The fluster could be promising, but the swearing . . . “Er, um . . .”

  “I figured she wasn’t going to tell me if my brother had been being a dick, and I’m not going to say anything to you except knock it off if you are. I like Molly.”

  “I like Molly, too.”

  He’d meant it in the most offhanded, “I’m merely echoing your statement” kind of way, but Sam’s head snapped around and her eyes narrowed at him. “You do?”

  Damn, sisters are dangerous creatures. “Yes. We’re friends.”

  He could tell by her look that Sam didn’t wasn’t buying that wholesale. Still, she said, “You might want to be careful. Helena’s trying to set you and Molly up. Someone might get the wrong idea.”

  Sam was good, but she wasn’t that good. She was fishing, but he didn’t have to take the bait. “I’m aware of that. As is Molly, too. Don’t worry.”

  She smiled and leaned across the counter. “Not that I’d object, you know.”

  “Hush.” Great. Just great.

  “I could even put in a good word for you with Molly, if you were leaning that way. Very casually, of course.”

  “I’ll take a tall black coffee—to go.” Any ideas he might have had about talking to Molly now were completely off the table. Not with Helena and now Sam ready to butt in at any moment with meddling and matchmaking. He did not need commentary—helpful or heckling—from the peanut gallery.

  “You’re no fun.”

  “And you’re not fixing my coffee,” he reminded her. “Some barista you are.”

  Giving him that pitying look again, Sam did finally make him a to-go cup of coffee, but she waved away his money. “No charge.”

  “Giving away freebies to the customers is a good way to lose your job.”

  Sam pulled back, clearly insulted. “I would never do that.”

  “Well, I’m not letting you buy my coffee.”

  “I’m not. Molly is,” she clarified. “Per her edict last week. You drink free here because you saved her cat’s life.”

  “I can’t let her do that.”

  “It’s not like you drink the good stuff anyway. Barbarian.” She sniffed with disdain.

  “You don’t even drink coffee. If anyone’s a barbarian, it’s you.”

  “But at least I know the difference between good stuff and merely cheap stuff.”

  “What happened to the customer always being right?”

  She laughed. “It’s your prerogative to drink whatever you like. But it’s my prerogative to judge you for it.”

  “Whatever.” He slipped a five into the tip jar.

  Sam shook her head at him. “Molly splits those tips among the staff at the end of the shift. You’re paying me, not her.”

  That was fine by him. Sam needed the money, too. He’d have to take up the free-coffee issue with Molly another time. But all things considered, it might be best for him to avoid dealings with all three of these women—particularly in a group. As much as he’d like to have a minute with Molly, she didn’t seem to be in the mood. Helena—aside from also being in an evil mood, too—would only embarrass everyone if she figured out his thoughts, and Sam was just way too perceptive at times.

  He knew when to make a tactical retreat, so he took his coffee and left.

  Honestly, he knew that just because he’d decided he was interested in Molly in an entirely new way, he couldn’t assume Molly was also in the same place. Yet. After all, just a couple of weeks ago, she’d heard him proclaim quite forcefully that he was not interested in her. It was a rather dramatic turnaround in his attitude, at least on the surface, and it could be a little confusing for her.

  Of course, she’d also told him that she wasn’t interested in him, either, but that was before. It could have been the truth or a bit of face-saving bravado under the circumstances, but she’d had some kind of shift in her thoughts since then. When he’d kissed her, she’d kissed him back—however briefly.

  All the more reason to make his interest clear and see what she said.

  Safely out of sight of the coffee shop, he tossed the coffee he’d ordered only to distract his sister into a nearby trash can. Then he went to the gym to distract himself.

  He was on his way home when Molly called. “Sam said you stopped by today wanting to talk to me.”

  “Yeah.” He’d wanted to do this face-to-face. It would be easier if he could see her reactions. Then he realized it had been quite a while since he’d actually cold-called a woman to ask her out, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to do it anymore.

  “Tate?”

  He’d lost his chance at small talk with that delay, and now he couldn’t even get a reading from the pleasantries. He forged ahead. “I’d like to take you to dinner.” He thought he might have heard her sigh, but that didn’t make much sense. “Maybe tomorrow night?”

  “I appreciate the invitation, but I can’t.”

  “Oh. Another night, then?”

  Okay, he definitely heard a sigh this time. “I’m going to be honest with you.”

  Neither her words nor her tone boded well. “Please do.”

  “I think it’s best that we just stay friends. I realize I may have misled you or made you think otherwise, and I’m very sorry about that. I know you won’t believe this, but it’s not you. It really is me. I’ve got some . . . personal stuff going on, and I can’t. But thank you anyway. I’m flattered.”

  He’d never been shot down quite so completely yet politely at the same time. He could tell she was choosing her words carefully, and he could also tell there was a hell of a lot hiding behind those carefully chosen words. He wished he could ask what, because “it’s me, not you” always meant “it’s you,” and there was no way that didn’t sting. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye, Tate.”

  If he weren’t so confused, his ego might be smarting more than it was. He knew she wasn’t seeing anyone—and if she were, she would have just said so and ended it there. And he knew Molly was attracted to him—he’d caught her appraising his assets before—and there was that kiss.

  Maybe Sam was right; maybe he had done something to piss Molly off. The most obvious would be kissing her, but since she’d seemed an active participant at the time, could she be mad about it now?

  He had no reason to believe she was lying to him, but he didn’t think she was being completely honest, either.

  Molly was turning out to be far more complicated than he’d thought.

  Chapter 10

  The days passed in a complete blur, and before Molly was ready, it was Saturday morning and she had twenty-two tents, over a hundred people, and an ark’s worth of animals set up in the park. The sky was perfectly blue and cloudless, promising a warm, sunny day. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock yet, but people were already out and about, and there was a crowd of wild-eyed and hyper children milling outside her gate waiting for this year’s Children’s Fair to officially open. She was a little afraid she might get trampled when it finally did.

  A couple of the adults she could see were carrying Latte Dah to-go cups, and it made her smile. She knew the line there would be out the door. It always was first thing in the morning whenever there was something like this going on downtown. Business would be steady all day, too. It was killing her not to be there, even though she knew Jane and Sam would have it under cont
rol. Rachel and Holly, the two high schoolers, had both picked up extra shifts, too. She had to believe Latte Dah was in good hands or else she’d lose her mind.

  She could use a cup of coffee herself right now, if for no other reason the smell would be nice. She’d placed the animals as far away as she could, but the breeze still wafted an unpleasant aroma into all the areas. She could only hope that once the fire department lit their big grill and started cooking that that smell might overpower the other.

  A chicken ran past her legs, hotly pursued by Robbie Hannigan, who was helping his father with the petting zoo. She just stepped back out of the way. After the Tent Catastrophe of six a.m., the Great Goat Fiasco of six forty-five, and the Clown Brawl of seven fifteen, one lone chicken on the loose was not nearly enough to shake her composure now.

  There were tents with people spinning and weaving, tents where kids could make corn husk dolls, and tents where kids could get their faces painted. There was a small stage where jugglers and puppeteers and a one-man band would perform. There were midway-style games and cakewalks and a bouncy castle. It was as much wholesome family fun as could possibly be crammed into a park.

  It was way too early to be too self-congratulatory, but she was pretty pleased with herself, all things considered. Barring a hurricane or fire—and the fire department was already here anyway—this was happening.

  Ready or not.

  She’d seen Helena in passing, setting up a bake sale booth for Ms. Louise’s church, but she hadn’t had time to stop and speak. A little later, Ryan had come through in his official capacity as mayor, checking to see whether she needed anything and congratulating her on a job well done. In fact, everyone she saw was full of praise—which was hard to believe, but still very nice to hear.

  She was frazzled and nervous and in desperate need of a drink already, but she just might pull this off. And she couldn’t believe how good that made her feel.

  Just outside the gates to the park, she could see the red cross flag being raised above the first aid tent. Next to that was the smaller animal first aid and pet adoption information tent run by Tate’s clinic. She’d seen him earlier when he’d come in to talk to Cliff Hannigan as the animals were being unloaded out of their trailers, but he hadn’t said much to her other than “good morning.”

  She hadn’t had much time to think recently, which had kept her from brooding, even if it hadn’t been enough to push the whole Tate situation completely out of mind.

  His attention, that kiss . . . all kinds of long-dormant feelings were suddenly and uncomfortably active. And it was hard to ignore those feelings even though she knew she had to. Hell, she hadn’t been so giddy that she’d been asked out by a boy since high school, and for one fleeting moment it had been grand. Turning him down had sucked, though—doubly so because she’d heard the disappointment and confusion in his voice. Which was understandable, considering she’d kissed him back the other night. He must have been assuming she’d say yes.

  And if life were fair, or even normal, she would have. She’d wanted to.

  Damn it, she’d let it go too far and now she’d created a problem.

  John Ragland, the new youth pastor at Grace Baptist and a volunteer clown today—although not one who’d been involved in the brawl—nearly tripped over his floppy red shoes as he caught up to her. “The crowd out there is getting restless.”

  She looked around and then checked her list to make sure everything was marked off. “I guess we’re ready. Would you like to do the honors?”

  He grinned. Even knowing it was just John behind the face paint, Molly was still a little creeped out. Clowns gave her the willies. “I’d be happy to. But are you sure you don’t want to do it?”

  The chicken ran past her again, squawking loudly. She sighed and stepped out of Robbie’s way. “No, you go ahead. I think I’ll see if I can help with the escaped poultry.”

  Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear myself say.

  By the time the chicken was safely back in its pen, the fair was in full swing. She knew that people came in from all over the county for the weekend’s events, but she was normally stationed inside Latte Dah and therefore didn’t know how thick the crowds actually were. In hindsight, that was probably a good thing. If she’d truly known how big this was, she’d have been far more panicked about it and probably would’ve had a nervous breakdown.

  “Excuse me, are you Molly?”

  She turned to see a dark-haired woman carrying a cup from Latte Dah. “Yes, I am. Can I help you?”

  The woman extended the cup toward her. “This is for you. And Sam says to tell you everything is just fine.”

  The aroma alone was enough to brighten her spirits. “I appreciate you delivering the message—and the coffee. Sam is an angel.” And a mind reader.

  The woman snorted, then caught herself. “Sorry. It’s just that I don’t think of Sam as an angel. I’m Ellie, Sam’s sister.”

  Ellie, the sister who rarely came to town and didn’t stay long when she did. Based on what she’d picked up from Sam, the Harris siblings were close, so Ellie’s issue was more likely with her mother. “Oh, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “I don’t come to visit very often, but I thought my kids might enjoy the fair, so we came down for the day.”

  Ellie didn’t favor Tate or Sam beyond the dark hair. Tate and Sam were both tall, with athletic builds, and Ellie was petite and curvy. “I hope y’all have fun.”

  “I hear you got this job when Mrs. Kennedy dumped it on you.”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘dumped’ . . .” At least not publicly. She needed to be diplomatic.

  Ellie smiled and shook her head. “I know Mrs. K. I can only imagine how you ended up with it. But I will say that everything is great. Lots of choices, well organized. Good job.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I will also tell you that everything really is fine over at Latte Dah. The line is huge, but it’s moving quickly.”

  “That’s a relief.” Now both Harris sisters were topping her list of favorite people today.

  “And Tate was right. It’s some of the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

  She tried to keep a simple smile on her face. “That’s very kind of him to say. And you are saying all the things I need to hear right now.”

  “It’s all the truth.” She smiled, and then Molly really saw the family resemblance. “I’ve heard both Tate and Sam talk about you, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”

  She had to wonder what Tate had said about her—and when he’d said it—but there was no way to ask, and now she was a little uncomfortable. She really couldn’t let thoughts of Tate throw her off her game today. “And you, too,” she repeated. “Thanks for the coffee delivery. That was very kind of you. I’ll let you get back to your family now.”

  Ellie put a hand on her arm. “One last thing. I’m friends with Marie Kennedy, and she says that you’re not to worry, because her mother has every intention of taking this back.”

  “Oh, you are saying everything I want to hear.” She was proud of herself for pulling this off, but she also didn’t want to get sucked in permanently.

  “Then I kind of feel bad about telling you . . .”

  “What?” A little bolt of panic shot through her.

  Ellie’s mouth twisted. “I overhead Mrs. Wilson talking to Tate about what a great job you’re doing. She sees you moving into other leadership roles next year.”

  Ugh. “Well, thank you for the heads-up.”

  “My pleasure. I hope it all continues to run smoothly.”

  Amazingly, to Molly at least, it did. There were a couple of small things here and there, a few lost children who needed comforting until their parents could be found, a few people sent to the first aid tent, but no fires, no massive blood loss, no explosions, no more escaped livestock . . . She considered it a success.

  By eight o’clock, everyone was packing up, and she was sitting in th
e back of the information tent counting the cash with the bank president and his wife while Deputy James stood guard.

  “Good job,” Jessie Hollis said as Duncan wrote out the receipt. “That’s about four or five hundred dollars more than last year.”

  “Really?” She’d hoped to get close, but she never dreamed she’d surpass previous totals. There were still a couple of bills to pay, but there were still some checks to come in, too, so . . .

  She’d done it. It wasn’t a complete disaster. She had this sudden urge to call home and gloat, but she quickly tamped it down.

  Instead she gloated quietly to herself.

  “We’ll walk this over to the bank,” Duncan said, “and it’ll be officially deposited in the account Tuesday morning when we open.”

  “I appreciate it.” She stood and stretched. “And just in time,” she added, since the guys from the rental place were standing by to strike the tent. She moved out of their way and waved good-bye as the Duncans and the deputy left.

  It was over. She was done.

  Jane had closed Latte Dah over an hour ago, and Sam had stopped by with the assurance that everything was fine, and she didn’t need to go to the shop for anything. Sam offered to save her a seat at the concert, and while Molly was tempted, she was also bone tired.

  And she had a business to open in the morning.

  Right outside the park, the food trucks were serving barbeque and boiled shrimp, and the firemen still had their burgers for sale. Oddly, she wasn’t hungry. She did, however, get a beer and carry it down to the Shore.

  With the concert about to begin, the Shore was pretty deserted, with only a few couples here and there, mostly teenagers. She walked a little ways along the boardwalk, away from the people, then sat down, dangling her feet over the edge and looking out over Heron Bay.

  It was gorgeous, perfect weather, cool after a day in the sun, and the breeze felt good on her face. Fuller was on the river, and she’d grown up a lake and river girl, but once she moved down here she’d realized she was a beach girl at heart. Even if she wanted to, how could she live anywhere else after living here?

 

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