by Carrie Elks
Ugh. Stalkerish much? She shook her head at herself. Maybe it was seeing a man running the café again that was unsettling her. Reminding her of when her father was constantly behind the counter. Yeah, better not to delve down into that too much. The last thing she needed was a daddy-complex.
After Ember ended the call, Ally slid her phone back into the band fixed with Velcro around her bicep. Then she glanced back at her boss for one final time, leaning down to stretch out her leg muscles. But this time his head was up and he was looking right at her. The shock of their gazes connecting was like an electric prod to her skin. Her heart started to hammer in spite of the fact she hadn’t moved at all.
Unlike Ally, Nate didn’t look embarrassed to be caught looking. Instead he gave her a nod and walked in the opposite direction, as if he’d barely noticed her at all.
Licking her dry lips, she turned around and began to stretch, the soles of her feet pushing against the rough sand as warm gusts of air caressed her skin. Within moments her mind would be beautifully, achingly blank, and not full of Nate Crawford and the new café. And that was just the way she wanted it, because she was thinking about him way too often for her own good.
“She’s sick?” Nate repeated, his brows pulling down into a frown. “What’s wrong with her?” He had to shout to make himself heard. Until he’d taken this call he hadn’t realized how loud the construction work was – he’d become immune to it after days of banging and drilling. He made a mental note to apologize to all the other business owners surrounding him. They’d been more than understanding about all the mess surrounding the café.
“Yes, Mr. Crawford,” the school nurse replied. “She says she has a headache and feels dizzy. We’ve given her some pain medication and let her rest for the past half hour, but it doesn’t seem to be getting any better. Hopefully taking her home will help.” She sounded more sympathetic than Nate felt right then. Riley had been perfectly fine when she’d left for school that morning. Well enough to have a shouting match with him when he’d told her that he still wasn’t getting her a car and she’d have to catch the bus home for the foreseeable future.
Nate sighed. “Okay, I’ll come over and pick her up.” He ended the call and glanced at his watch. He had an hour before the building inspector was due to take a look at the work they’d done so far. Just enough time to pick Riley up and drop her off at home. Not enough for them to get into another screaming match. That was a win at least.
All the while he’d been talking, he’d been staring out at the beach. Well, not the beach exactly. If he was honest, his gaze was firmly on the woman warming her muscles up on the sand about twenty yards away from him. She was leaning forward, her hands clasped around her ankle as she stretched out her quadriceps.
Christ, she was flexible. Her entire body was perfectly formed. From her long, lean legs that led up to the flare of her hips, dipping into her small waist that was only accentuated by the spandex shorts she was wearing.
What she wasn’t wearing, he noticed, were shoes. A flash of guilt went through him again as he remembered throwing her last pair away. He wondered where she stashed them now? Not anywhere near the café, he was sure of that.
She looked up at him, her eyes widening as her gaze caught his. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment nothing else registered. Not the sound of the construction work in the café, nor the softer splash of the ocean as it kissed against the shore. It was just the two of them alone on the beach.
Dear God, he was seeing things that weren’t there. And even if they were, they shouldn’t be. He gave her a quick nod, trying to dismiss the heat that was rushing through his veins. Turning away, he began to walk toward the parking lot, ready to drive to the high school and pick up Riley.
By the time he turned back, Ally had started to run, the muscles in her thighs tensing as she made her way down to the water’s edge. He watched her for a moment, impressed by her strength as well as the form of her body.
Shaking his head at himself, he turned back to the car. He wasn’t some hormonal teenager. And he had enough things to worry about, with Riley and the café, not to mention being thousands of miles away from his growing business. The last thing he needed to be doing was admiring Ally Sutton’s muscles.
And with that thought, he tried to push her straight out of his mind. Whether it worked, remained to be seen.
Ally loved this part of the beach, where the buildings and the tourists gave way to nature. She ran past the dunes and skipped over the rocks, heading toward the tiny cove where she used to come for picnics with Brooke and Ember. The three of them would stuff themselves full of whatever they’d managed to grab from their parents’ kitchens, barely able to eat because they were all talking too fast about whatever the latest school gossip was, or more often, about their crush of the month.
Ember used to bring her iPod and speakers with her – that was back in the days before they had smartphones to keep them company. They’d play music and dance themselves silly without fear of anybody seeing them. Ally smiled, remembering how Ember would fling out her arms and spin until she dropped.
Those were good times. She missed them. Now they were too busy to spend more than a few hours together. Ember had her relationship with Lucas, and Brooke had her son, Nicholas, to take care of, and on top of that they were both so busy with their jobs and school. Ally’s eyes began to sting and she blinked, blaming the salty air that carried up from the water.
She came to a stop in the middle of the cove, stretching out her arms, and feeling her chest open as her fingertips reached out into the air. Then she spun herself around the way that Ember always used to, starting slow, before turning faster, her hands whooshing through the air as her body turned in circles.
She’d forgotten how it felt to be this free. To not care about the fact she was getting dizzy, nor that any moment she’d be too lightheaded to remain upright. Instead, she kept turning, her body leaning to the left, the air escaping her mouth in a shout of joy.
By the time she fell over her blood was rushing through her ears, echoing the sound of the waves crashing into shore. She collapsed on her back, flinging her limbs out in a starfish position, feeling her body still moving in circles even though she’d stopped.
As the sound of her rushing blood died down, it was replaced by something strange and high pitched. Ally cocked her eye open, glancing out of the corner. She saw a young girl standing there, laughing her head off at this adult who’d spun herself until she’d felt sick.
“Glad I amused you,” Ally said, not feeling quite stable enough to sit up yet.
The girl shook her head and laughed again. Ally opened her other eye and attempted to focus on her. She looked a little familiar, but she couldn’t quite place her. “Do I know you?” Ally asked.
“Nope.” The girl shook her head. “I’m new in town.”
Slowly, Ally sat up. Her stomach was still lurching. “Then you probably don’t know that this is our town dance. Everybody who lives here has to do it.”
“Bullshit.”
Ally blinked. “Okay, so I might be making that bit up. But don’t you ever want to spin until everything else disappears?”
“All the time.” The girl sat down and pulled her knees to her chest, circling her arms around them. “But what I’d really like to do is spin myself out of town and back home. Wherever the hell that is.”
The girl sounded despondent. If only Brooke was here. Or Ember. Both of her friends were so much better at talking to children than Ally was. She was more used to taking their food orders and telling them to get their feet off the benches.
“Don’t you like it here?” Ally asked, grasping for anything to say to the girl. “I’m Ally by the way.”
“Riley,” the girl replied. “And no, I don’t like it here. I prefer Seattle where there’s actually something to do. Do you know all everybody talks about is the beach? When they’re going to sunbathe or surf, or go and grab an ice cream from the parlor. If
you took the sand away there would be nothing to do at all.”
“There’s the mountains,” Ally pointed out. “Lots of people go hiking up there.”
“But what about the movies and the mall?” Riley replied. “What about hanging around and going out to eat together? There’s nothing fun to do around here.”
“Déjà Brew is opening up an outlet at the beach,” Ally said. “I’ve heard it’s pretty popular with kids.”
The girl let out a strangled scream that made Ally jump. “Do you know how much I hate Déjà Brew?” Riley asked, her nose wrinkling up. “I hate it with the power of a thousand angry demons.”
“Wow,” Ally replied, her brows rising up. “That’s a lot of hate. What did the place ever do to you?”
“My dad owns it.” Riley shrugged. “Isn’t that enough?”
Ally felt the air rush out of her lungs. “You’re Nate Crawford’s daughter?”
Riley frowned, tipping her head to the side. “How do you know my dad?”
“I work for him.”
The girl’s lips twitched. “At Déjà Brew? Oh god, what on Earth did you do to deserve that? Torture kids? Kill a cat?”
“Is he that bad?” Ally asked, biting down a smile. There was something about this girl that she liked.
Riley leaned forward, her voice lowering. “He’s much, much worse. Take my word for it. Run as fast as you can. And whatever you do, don’t look back.”
This time Ally couldn’t stop herself from grinning. She loved the way teenage girls were so dramatic – she could remember being that way herself. Maybe she still was sometimes; ignoring her dad’s calls being a case in point. “Well I guess I should be going now,” she said, standing up and brushing the sand off her. “I have another couple of miles to run.” She nodded at the girl. “I’ll see you around, Riley.”
Riley finally smiled, and it lit up her face. “Not if I see you first. And definitely not at Déjà Brew.”
Ally raised her eyebrows, lifting her hand in a goodbye. And as she left, ready to continue her run, she could see Riley begin to spin around the same way Ally had done only ten minutes earlier.
It was strange how happy that made her feel.
5
“You’re early.” Nate pulled the door to the café open. She wasn’t expecting him to have a smile on his face, but there it was, wide and natural. Ally was momentarily disarmed. She had to curl her fingers up and dig her nails into her palms to snap herself out of it.
“I thought it would be good to make the right impression, since it’s my first day,” she said as Nate stepped aside to let her pass. Her bare arm brushed against his, and for a second she felt the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. But then her attention was taken by the interior of the shop, and she looked around with wide eyes.
Everything had changed. The walls were painted a deep matte blue, and the floors were freshly laid with polished walnut planks. There was a new counter, too, deep black with a shiny steel top.
“What do you think?” he asked. She felt her mouth go dry. It looked amazing, and yet her heart ached at the sight.
“It’s nice,” she said, her voice thick. “You’ve done a great job.”
He was still looking at her, she noticed. His eyes scanned her face as if he was searching for something more. She tried to swallow down the emotion that was coursing up inside her. Now wasn’t the time to mourn the demise of her dad’s old café. It was time to look forward.
She glanced over at the counter again, noticing the huge espresso machine placed behind it. She’d never seen such a big one – it was a stainless steel monster. Even worse, it looked complicated as hell.
Nate glanced behind him, as though he was following her gaze. “Shall I take you through the equipment?” he asked her.
“You’re doing the training?” Ally widened her eyes. She hadn’t expected him to be the one to show her the ropes. But a glance around the café told her it was only the two of them in there.
“Yeah. It’ll be a lot easier for you to learn if somebody shows you. We have corporate videos, of course, and manuals. But I have a couple of spare hours so…” He shrugged, trailing off.
“Will the other staff be joining us?”
“No. Once I train you, it’ll be your job to train them. They’ll be coming in later this week, ready to open on Monday. But as the manager, you’re the most important one right now.”
She tried to ignore the little shiver that snaked down her spine at the thought of them being alone in here. It didn’t matter how good he looked with his sleeves rolled up to reveal his golden skin, or how every time he looked at her she felt her body heat all over. He was her boss. He owned the whole damn company, after all. And she was way too old for crushes.
Shaking her head at herself, she squared her shoulders and followed him over to the counter.
“Have you ever used a machine like this before?” he asked as they walked. “I don’t remember seeing one in the inventory.”
“We used to have an automatic machine,” she told him, taking the apron he offered her and knotting it behind her waist. “But it looked nothing like this.” She took a deep breath, deciding to be frank with him. “If I’m being completely honest, I don’t know that much about coffee. We ordered ours in from the same place for years. I used to scoop it into the filter and let it brew. If it smelled good and strong then it worked.”
Nate was silent for a moment. She looked down, embarrassed at her own admission. But then he cleared his throat, and she felt the warmth of his stare on her face without even having to look.
“Why don’t we start with the basics?” he suggested. “In fact, grab a seat.” He pointed at a stool. “I’ll give you a brief history of the coffee bean.”
“Seriously?” Her lip curled into a half-smile.
He shrugged. “Why not? We’ve got all day.”
Really? He’d said earlier they only had a couple of hours. Refraining from commenting on that, she did as she was told, sitting on the stool next to the counter, as Nate reached below and pulled out three jars of beans.
“Did you know the word coffee comes from the Arabic for ‘wine of the bean’?” he asked her, opening one of the jars and tipping some out into his palm. “Once you get to know all the different varieties you’ll understand how similar to wine it is. There’s a different bean for every kind of palate.” He dropped a single bean into her hand, and curled her fingers over it. “This one’s a light roasted bean from Brazil.”
“It feels oily.”
“It’s the roast,” he said. “Lift it to your nose. Tell me what you smell.”
She held the bean to her face, inhaling it in. For a second she closed her eyes. “It’s almost nutty,” she said, letting the aroma take over her senses.
“Now try it.”
“Try it?” She looked up at him, her voice full of questions.
He nodded. “Put it in your mouth.”
Nate stared at her intently as she opened her lips and pushed the bean onto her tongue.
“What can you taste?” he asked.
“It has an earthy flavor,” she said softly, her eyes still connected to his.
“What else?” His voice lowered. He’d moved close enough for her to hear his breath.
“It’s sweeter than I thought.”
“It’s not as strong as some of the darker roasts,” he said. “But it has more caffeine than they do.”
He held another bean out. “This one’s a medium roast from Ethiopia,” he told her. “Can you tell the difference between this and the last one?” he asked, placing it onto her palm.
She slipped it into her mouth, and closed her eyes. It was better that way. Less personal. Something about it being just the two of them was making her senses feel raw. As if he could see right through her and knew how attractive she thought he was.
“It’s not as oily,” she whispered, rolling the bean around her tongue. “And it has more pep to it. It almost tastes
fruity.”
When she opened her eyes, she saw his lips curl up into a smile. “You’ve got a good palate,” he told her, nodding slowly. “Not everybody can tell the difference.”
She flushed at his approval. “You’re a good teacher. You make it seem easy.”
He opened his mouth to say something, then obviously thought better of it, turning around to grab a tiny glass cup from where they were stacked on the side. “Now, I’m going to show you how a good espresso should look.”
He turned and placed the cup on the machine, then pulled at the lever above until it came loose. “This is the porta filter,” he said, turning to show it to her. It’s where we put the coffee in.” He held it beneath another machine – this one full of beans. When he pressed a button it started grinding them, and coffee powder spilled into the filter.
She watched as he pressed it down with something he called a ‘temper’ before he put it back in the espresso machine. There was something about his easy competence that made her lean forward, her eyes glued to the movement of his hands as he fixed the porta filter back in.
He pressed a button and the water was forced through the filter, pushing out a deep colored coffee.
“You can’t leave an espresso standing for more than thirty seconds,” he told her, turning to place the cup in front of her. “That doesn’t give you much time to either serve it or make up whatever drink the customer has ordered. Speed is of the essence.”
“What happens if you leave it for longer?”
“You have to throw it away and start again.” He shrugged. “Believe me, we go through a lot. Can you see the three layers?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “It’s darker at the bottom. Then a little lighter, and at the top it’s almost white.”
“The top part is called the crema. If you get these three layers you know you’ve made a good espresso. If there’s no crema you try again.”