Page 4

“They're all dark green,” Heather counters, examining my shirt.

“Different shades,” I insist, even though she has a point.

Heather walks toward me wearing the kind of smile that immediately makes me suspicious. “We think you should get a tattoo,” she announces, coming to a stop directly in front of me.

I stare at her. “No.”

“Come on.” She nudges my arm.

“No,” I repeat, turning away.

“You’ve always talked about getting one.” Brandi moves beside Heather.

“I said that once,” I answer, gripping the counter's edge.

“You said you wanted something for Mom and Dad,” Maddie reminds me, her voice softer now.

My resistance fades. That was different. After our parents died, I took over everything—the house, the family, and eventually the little coffee shop they'd always wanted. My sisters were still young. I became a brother, a father, a protector, and the one who fixed problems. There wasn't time for much else. There still isn't. But sometimes, late at night, I wonder whether I've used responsibility as an excuse. Maybe keeping everyone safe has been an easy way to avoid risk. Love is a risk. Kira is a force of nature. I'm not sure I'm ready to take that risk.

Maddie's expression softens. “Maybe it's time.”

I look out the window, straight to the tattoo shop across the street. And because the universe hates me, Kira is standing in the front window. She catches me staring and a soft smile spreads across her face. Then she lifts her iced pumpkin monstrosity in a little toast and I immediately look away.

“No.” I turn away from the window.

Heather grins. “We'll make the appointment.”

“Don't you dare,” I warn Heather, but she is already smiling.

“With Kira," she adds, lifting her chin toward the shop across the street.

“Heather,” I warn.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Heather continues, ignoring my warning.

“Heather,” I repeat, stepping toward her, but she runs to the kitchen, so I follow her. “You’d better not.”

My sisters scatter, laughing. And somewhere across the street is the one woman in town I absolutely have no business wanting. Apparently, she's about to put her hands all over me. For hours—fantastic. This won't end badly.

two

Kira

Ross Wilson hates me. At least that's what he wants everyone to believe. Personally, I think a man who hates you doesn't memorize your coffee order. He definitely doesn't add extra whipped cream unless you ask for it. And he absolutely doesn't make a caramel heart on top.

I stare at the remnants of that heart while sitting behind the front desk at Temptation Ink. I like getting a reaction from Ross, but the teasing has become a way to hide how much I like him. When he looks at me for an extra second, I carry it with me all day. When he looks away, I pretend not to mind. I wish I could be as brave with my feelings as I am with my mouth.

My brother Keanu looks up from his sketchbook. “You’re doing it again.” He points his pencil at my cup.

“Doing what?” I ask, lowering the cup.

“Smiling at your coffee.” Keanu leans back on his stool.

“I like coffee.” I lift an eyebrow.

“You like the guy who made the coffee.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”