Sable Peak (The Edens)

I liked carrot cake muffins with cream cheese frosting. I liked turkey sandwiches more than ham. And I loved Eden Coffee.

Lyla’s cafe had become my favorite spot in Quincy. It made working here feel like a treat. For the past week, she’d taught me how to make espressos and lattes. I’d learned how to use the sales system to ring up customers and which switches controlled each light. I’d washed dishes and mopped floors and bussed tables.

Was it my dream job? No. But it was a good job and it accommodated my study schedule. If I wanted a dream job someday, I was going to need my GED first.

Since we’d moved to Quincy—since I’d left Dad—I’d been set on taking everything in stride. In making small, deliberate steps. I’d set out to discover things I liked. Things I didn’t. Small steps to building a normal life.

Were small steps enough? Was it time to take a leap?

Maybe. But not today.

“What can I help with next?” I asked Lyla. We’d just finished restocking the counter with her latest batch of pastries.

“Want to do a sweep of the tables?”

“Sure.” I smiled and snagged a damp rag, taking it with me to clean one of the recently vacated chairs.

The lunch rush was over, and like the previous days this week, we were in an afternoon lull. It gave us time to catch up on dishes and cleaning. The only people in the cafe were the teenage girls who’d come inside ten minutes ago.

School in Quincy ended around three, and each afternoon, students would pop in for food and coffee.

I went to the table beside theirs, picking up an empty mug and plate with a wadded-up napkin.

“My acceptance letter came today from MSU,” one of the girls said.

“Yay,” another girl cheered as a third clapped. “Oh my God, it’s going to be so fun. I’m glad we’re all going to Bozeman together.”

“Me too.”

“What dorm do you think we’ll be in?”

My heart twisted, just a little.

A lifetime ago, I’d been a seventeen-year-old girl excited about college acceptance letters. A girl who’d been ready to leave home on a new adventure. A girl who’d just assumed home would be there when she was ready to return.

But that girl hadn’t graduated high school. She hadn’t needed to worry about roommates or professors or what party to hit on a Saturday night.

That girl was gone.

Maybe, if I put my life together, if I found some semblance of normal, I’d find that girl again. The girl from before.

It didn’t bother me like it used to that I’d missed so much. There were better things to mourn. But it still pinched sometimes. So I gave myself a few seconds of self-pity, then I put it away.

That pity, along with anger and resentment and grief, was tucked away into a box. A box that lived down deep, where it stayed shut. Where it had to stay locked up tight.

If I let its lid so much as crack, the emotions in that box would swallow me whole.

One of the girls glanced my direction. I smiled when her eyes met mine, then whisked the dirty dishes away.

Lyla was standing beside the stainless steel prep table, smiling at her phone, when I walked into the kitchen. It was a beaming smile, one she reserved for Vance.

“Flirting with Uncle Vance?” I teased.

“Always.” She giggled. “He’s on his way over from the station to hang out until we close.”

“You know, I could close up the shop tonight. You guys could go home.”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Though Vance would have to come back to town to get me later. Driving practice was going … not great. Yesterday, I’d nearly decimated a mailbox with Vance’s truck.

It wasn’t the mechanics of driving. I could steer and hit the gas and brake pedals. It was just … hard.

Driving reminded me of Dad. He’d been the one to teach me when I was fifteen. And while I loved Vance, I wanted Dad in the passenger seat.

I missed my dad. Was he okay?

“Vera?”

My gaze whipped to Lyla. “Huh?”

“I asked if you were sure. About tonight.”

“Of course,” I said, too brightly. “Maybe you guys could go out on a date. Celebrate Vance’s new job.”

“Maybe. I’ll ask him.” Lyla studied me for a long moment, probably to make sure I was okay.

Was I okay? Sort of.

Day by day, I was inching toward okay.

“You guys, um, didn’t tell Winn anything. Right?” I asked, my voice low. “About Dad?”

“No. We trust her. But …”

The fewer people who knew my real story, the better. Everyone here, including the Edens, could go on believing what they read in the newspapers. “Thanks.”

“No thanks needed. I’m going to do a quick inventory of the walk-in,” she said.

“All right. I’ve got the counter.”

The high school girls were still at their table, gossiping and talking, when I returned to the front of the shop. I went to work, making myself a hazelnut latte. Did I like it more than caramel?

“Nope.” I sighed after the first sip. Caramel was still the front-runner, but the hazelnut wasn’t awful.

The bell above the coffee shop’s door jingled. I almost dropped my coffee as Mateo strode inside carrying a box. Would my heart ever not do cartwheels when he was around?

His broad shoulders were covered in a thick, tan canvas coat with the Eden Ranch brand embroidered in white beneath the corduroy collar. The lining was a soft sherpa.

Anne and Harrison had gifted everyone in their family those coats at Christmas.

Me included.

I’d almost cried when I’d had a package under their tree. The last time I’d had a real Christmas was before.

Mateo’s dark hair was trapped beneath a black beanie. His stubble was nearly a beard these days, and every time I thought he’d let it grow, he’d come into the shop freshly shaven. I wasn’t sure which version I liked best.

But in every way, he was beautiful.

Mateo’s broad, six-three frame was corded with muscle and strength. He moved effortlessly, his strides fluid and sure. Maybe it was the confidence that radiated off his body that unnerved me so wholly.

Don’t stare. The effort it took to force my gaze away made me break out into a sweat. My cheeks were on fire. When he was around, blushing was involuntary.

“Hey, Vera.” Mateo set the box down on the counter.

“Hi.” My voice was soft and weak. It was so freaking hard to breathe when he was around.

“Did you get a haircut?”

My hand flew to the end of my ponytail. Oh my God, he’d noticed. Not even Lyla had noticed. Granted, I’d only cut an inch off the ends, but he’d noticed. “Just a trim. I did it myself in the bathroom. It’s probably choppy.” Why was I still talking?

“Looks nice.”

Nice as in pretty? Or nice as in I should pay a professional from now on?

“This is for Lyla.” He splayed his hand on top of the box. “Is she here?”

“Um, yeah.” I nodded so wildly that a lock of my red hair escaped the tie. “I’ll go get her.”

I turned and almost slammed my face into the espresso machine. But I righted my feet and hurried into the kitchen.

Ugh. Freaking get it together, Vera.

The last time I’d had a crush on a guy had been four years ago. Maybe I was just out of practice, but this crush had only seemed to double in the past month. What would happen in two or three?

Mateo was too perfect. That was the problem. It had taken me a month to nail it down in my head. He was a dream personified. It was like he’d been plucked from my mind and crafted just for me. And apparently finding my dream guy meant turning into a bumbling idiot whenever he looked in my direction.

I was almost to the kitchen when Lyla came through the door, the two of us nearly colliding.

“Sorry,” we said in unison, then both laughed.

“Mateo is here for you.” I pointed down the hallway. “He brought a box.”

“Yay.” Her face lit up. “My Christmas present.”

She hurried to the counter, sharing a smile with Mateo as she went straight for the gift.

I lingered a few feet away, not wanting to intrude while Lyla opened the box’s lid and pulled out a ceramic, mint-green mixing bowl.

“I love it.” She skimmed her fingertips across the flower details on the rim, then set it down to stretch across the counter and haul him in for a hug.

He wrapped her up, grinning. “Sorry it’s late.”

“Oh, I don’t care.” She let him go and motioned to the display case. “Want something to eat or drink?”

Before he could answer, the group of high school girls giggled so loudly we all looked to their table. The second they realized Mateo was watching, they huddled closer together, attempting to hide their flushed cheeks.

He groaned. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

“They’re just harmless girls,” Lyla said. “Ignore them.”

But the giggling only got louder. One girl pressed a hand to her heart. Another batted her eyelashes.

“I’ll see you later,” Mateo said.

“Okay. Bye, Matty.” She swept up the bowl, heading to the kitchen to put it away. “Thanks for my present.”

“Welcome.” He smiled as she disappeared, then winked at me. “Bye, Vera.”

He winked. At. Me. The girls at the table didn’t get winks. Lyla didn’t get a wink. Just me. What did that mean? Did he wink at everyone? Or just girls with nice home haircuts?

One of the girls blew a kiss at Mateo’s back.

I scrunched up my nose.

Something flickered in Mateo’s expression. But before I could figure it out, he turned and headed for the door.

Every pair of eyes at the girls’ table was glued to his ass as he walked across the room.

It was a perfect ass. I knew, because I’d ogled it plenty of times myself.

I’d fit in with those high school girls, wouldn’t I? We weren’t all that different. I didn’t have a diploma yet. I was working part-time and living rent-free with Vance and Lyla. I blushed and babbled when Mateo Eden came around.

I was twenty-one years old, not seventeen. Twenty-one.

But I’d fit right in at that table.

A sour taste spread across my mouth.