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‘The usual?’ Jeanie asked, her tone light, even with the concerned crease in her brow. She obviously hadn’t heard the full Lucy story yet or her dark eyes would be filled with pity, and he didn’t want that; didn’t want Jeanie filled in on his failed attempt at romance.
Or even worse than pity, she’d think Lucy was crazy for turning down his grand gesture. But if Jeanie was a grand-gesture fan, she was out of luck because Logan was all grand-gestured out. He shook his head; what was he even thinking? Jeanie didn’t want anything from him except his damn coffee order.
‘Yes, thanks.’ He nodded hello to Crystal, who smiled and went to refill the creamer bottles. Jeanie brought him his black coffee in a to-go cup. He’d left his reusable one in the truck in his rush to get in here. One mistake after another today.
‘I figured you weren’t staying.’ She glanced over at the table of book clubbers. They’d clearly moved on from his sad tale and were back to cackling about their latest read. ‘But I’m glad you came in. I mean ... it’s nice to see you.’ Jeanie’s face flushed, and he wanted to tuck the escaped hairs behind her ear, to brush his fingers against her soft skin again, to hear the little intake of breath she’d made when he’d done it.
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
‘Nice to see you, too.’ The understatement of the year. Seeing her was far more complicated than ‘nice’ could ever communicate. He simultaneously wanted to jump the counter and give her the kiss he didn’t get a chance to two nights ago and run the hell out of there and never look back.
Instead, he stood awkwardly in front of her hoping she’d chatter on about something so he could stay here looking at her for just a few more minutes.
Lucky for him, Jeanie always had something to chat about. ‘Casper is settling in nicely. He sleeps at the end of my bed every night and it’s helping me sleep better, too. Except for when he sits on my face around five every morning. Who needs an alarm clock anymore? Not me!’ she finished with a laugh.
Logan laughed too, mostly to avoid making any comments about face-sitting. His composure was unraveling at a dangerous pace.
At some point during her story, Logan had leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter between them. Jeanie’s body bent towards his, as well, like they couldn’t keep space between them. He sure as hell didn’t want to.
‘You named him Casper?’ His voice was low so only she could hear it.
‘Well, he was my ghost. And he turned out to be friendly, so just kinda fit...’ She gri
‘Makes sense,’ he said, cursing the cat again for being found so soon, for ruining any excuse he had to see more of Jeanie, especially at night, especially side by side on her floor with moonlight streaming in the window. Damn cat.
Someone cleared their throat behind him, breaking the moment. He stood and apologized, stepping out of the way for Mr. Prescott, the mailman.
‘I should go,’ he told Jeanie over the hiss of the coffee machine.
‘Okay, sure.’ Her cheeks were flushed pink from work, and loose tendrils of hair curled around her temples. She looked happy, like she belonged here in this cozy little shop, chatting it up with the people he’d known his whole life. She looked like she fit.
He wanted her to fit.
‘Here you go, Mr. Prescott. Have a good day,’ she said, handing the older man his drink. She turned back to Logan and knocked the wind out of him with her next words. ‘Whoever Lucy was, I think she was a fool to leave.’ She gave him a soft smile and then got started on the next customer’s order without even missing a beat, leaving Logan to stumble back out into the sunshine wondering what to do next.
Because nothing about Jeanie was ever what he expected.