Page 17 of Not Until I Found You

“I, uh— Look, I’m sorry my dog keeps jumping on you. Let me make it up to you. I know Ashton has the worst taste in coffee. Would you like to come over for a better cup?”

That was not something light, Zane. That was bringing her into your personal space, which is the opposite of keeping a distance. Maybe it’s not only Sven who’s acting out of character.

I run my hands through my hair, internally fighting with myself. Part of me hopes she turns down the offer, and the other part definitely wants her to accept.

She hesitates, her teeth tugging at her full bottom lip, and I distract myself by whistling for Sven. He trots over obediently and sits at my feet. I shoot him a glare, and he beams up at me with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. I’m starting to suspect this whole thing has been his idea all along.

“I don’t want to be a bother.” She shrugs, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, and peers down at her now half-empty cup.

This is where I should say ’Yes, it will be a bother’ and turn around to retreat into my cabin. But instead, my mouth seems to have a mind of its own this morning. I blame my Southern-hospitality genes and the fact that my mother raised me to be a gentleman.

“I already have some brewing.”

She hesitates for a moment before replying, “I guess that’d be okay. If you really don’t mind. Ash’s coffee is disgusting, and I could really use the caffeine.”

The dark circles under her eyes are evidence of her lack of sleep, and it steals the fight right out of me. She’s had a rough few days; the least I can do is offer her some kindness with that cup of caffeine.

“Come on. Let me treat you to some real coffee,” I add and nod toward my home, waving for her to follow me.

She drops the comforter onto the chair behind her, revealing pajama shorts and a tank top patterned in cartoon-style house plants. I stare at the succulents in little pots with smiling faces, tiny cacti wearing sunglasses, and a trailing ivy with leaves shaped like hearts, much like the one she was holding onto yesterday. It’s cute and somehow fitting for her.

She glances down like she’s just remembered what she’s wearing, and her blush deepens.

“Nice pajamas,” I comment before I can stop myself.

“At least I’m fully dressed.”

I chuckle. I enjoy her quippy sarcasm.

“I get it. I’ll put on a shirt.”

I lead her inside my cabin, and the space swallows her up instantly. The high ceilings, wide-planked floors, and the dark-green paint make her seem smaller as she steps into unfamiliar territory. Her gaze drifts over the stone fireplace, my worn black leather couch, and the shelves stacked with books as curiosity transforms her expression.

“It’s like a bigger version of my brother’s place.”

I hum in agreement as I grab a hoodie off the coat rack and slip it on quickly.

“My grandpa built all three cabins. The big one up on the hill used to be his, but now my mom lives there. By the way, how do you take your coffee?” I ask, reaching for a mug, the rich scent of cinnamon rises with the steam as I fill it.

“Usually only a spoonful of honey and a splash of milk.”

I do as she says and hand the mug to her. She cradles it between both hands and when she takes the first sip, her eyes brighten. It causes a surge of victory to course through me.

“Oh, this is so much better.” A little sigh escapes her as she takes another sip. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I watch her then. The way her shoulders loosen as the warmth from the coffee seeps in, as the steam from the mug reaches toward her face, drawing my attention to her lips. Before I get caught staring like a creeper, I tear my gaze away and turn back toward the counter, busying myself with my own coffee.

“So…have you had any issues with the toilet?”

Really. That’s the topic I choose to bring up? I want to slap myself.

“Uh, no. Everything’s been working fine.”

“Good. Yeah. That’s…good.” I keep my back to her, accidentally dumping in way too much creamer.

She rescues me by changing the subject. “So, what’s it like working with my brother?”