“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. It looks like they took a mountain home and planted it in the middle of town.”
“It does.”
“My house is so basic,” she grumbles. “I love it and I’m so glad that I have a place to stay — it’s a rental until I find something to buy — but still, it’s basic.”
“Basic isn’t always bad.”
“No. It isn’t. I can decorate it the way I want this way.”
“Do you like that? Interior decorating?”
She turns her head to the side, back and forth. “I’m not good at it, mainly because I don’t have a lot of things, so my decorating isn’t unique. It’s basic.” She giggles. “Your house is cool, though. What I saw of it, anyway.”
“You mainly saw the bedroom,” I remind her, wiggling my eyebrows.
“Mmm. It’s a good room.” She leans against me as we walk and I wrap an arm around her. She doesn’t shift away but she also doesn’t get any closer to me.
“I like it, too.”
Not wanting to make things between us awkward, I release her and we continue walking down the sidewalk, turning to go back toward downtown.
It occurs to me as we make small talk that I truly enjoy being with her. I did the night we ate enough junk food for an entire football team and then played darts for hours. And today, having lunch and going on this walk that I wasn’t really eager to do either, but wanted to have a chance to get to know each other and do something different. I’ve really enjoyed the two times we’ve sat on the phone together and the texting.
She’s gorgeous, but it’s more than just her appearance that’s drawing me to her. It’s also more than the fact that she’s carrying my child, which is incredibly surreal.
Ashley is honest to God one of the most fun people I’ve spent time with. Like when I asked her to play darts but she didn’t know if she wanted to, she did it to have fun. Maybe I’m basing my opinion of her on only a couple of experiences, but something in my gut tells me to follow it. Which means I want to know more.
“So you’re a dental hygienist?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that why you’re always staring at my teeth?” I ask, smiling wide.
She whips her head in my direction, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Something tells me the flush isn’t only from the cold. “What?” She’s a little breathy and it’s adorable. She’s embarrassed that I called her out — or maybe it’s that she’s been caught. Either way, she’s not denying it.
“Yup. That’s the reason.”
Nuh uh. There’s more to it than that but I’ll let it go.
“You like it? The work, I mean?”
“I do. Obviously, there are some times where I’d like to just leave and go back home, when someone comes in who not only hasn’t been to the dentist in what seems like their entire life, and also looks like they haven’t brushed in decades.”
Oh damn. That makes me gag to just think about. “Gross.”
“You have no idea.”
“Thank goodness for that.”
She laughs lightly and turns to me when we’re at the one and only stoplight in town. “This might sound weird, but I like that you make me do things I typically don’t want to do.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Like?”
“Not the sex.” She rushes to explain. “That I was totally on board with,” she says boldly.
“Got that. I was right there with you, remember?”
She smiles shyly. “Yes, you were. But, I’m talking about the walk today and the darts. You help me get out of my comfort zone.”
“Glad to be of service. I’ll gladly do whatever I can to keep pushing your boundaries.” I wink at her and she rolls her eyes.
The red light turns green and the walk sign lights up so we cross the street. We’ve been out leisurely walking for almost an hour but with the cold temperature and bitter wind, it’s plenty long.
“Want to stop in Dreamin’ Beans for a warm drink?” Dreamin’ Beans is a local coffee shop that rivals any of the national chains. Partly because their pastries could win awards. “Maybe one of their double chocolate chip muffins?”
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
“Way to your heart, huh? The hot drink or the muffin?”
“Uhh, both? Only when it’s so cold outside that it makes your face hurt.”
“Fair enough.”
“Okay, that was a lie,” she sighs. “I’ll take a hot drink and chocolate muffin any day of the year.” I open the door for her to go inside the coffee shop first. “Honestly, I’m such a sucker for anything chocolate and coffee. Even decaf, which is what I need to have for the next several months.”
We walk to the front counter and are greeted by the barista. She has a nametag that reads Hazel and if I’m not mistaken, she’s the daughter of the owner, Christine. I’ve lived in this town my entire life, so it’s hard to miss people who’ve been here their entire lives as well. It also helps that I’ve worked with Andy, Christine’s husband, on several occasions. He talks about his kids a lot while he’s building the houses that I’m putting electrical outlets into. He also talks about his wife and the incredible food she makes and his daughter who works for the coffee shop.
“Good afternoon. Welcome to Dreamin’ Beans. Can I help you?” Hazel asks.
I gesture for Ashley to order first. “Go ahead.”
“Nik told me all about the double chocolate chip muffins. Do you have those available?”
Hazel’s eyes light up. “Oh, yes, they’re the best. I could eat like fifty of ‘em a day!”
“Best sales pitch ever,” Ashley replies. “I’ll have one, warmed up, please. A cup of decaf, too, please.”
“Same for me, but full of caffeine.”
“You got it. Room for creamer?”
Ashley and I nod and Hazel rings up our order. I pay then we find a spot to sit after Hazel tells us she’ll bring our muffins and coffee out to us. The coffee shop is meant for casual seating, with tables and cushioned chairs but also some oversized chairs and a sofa by a gas fireplace.
“Want to sit by the fireplace?”
“Ooh yes! That sounds perfect.”
We settle on the couch, angling toward each other with our coats bunched up next to us. She unwraps the knitted scarf from around her neck and lays it across her lap, looking around the little coffee shop.
“Is this the first time you’ve been in here?”
“Yeah. I usually make coffee at home so haven’t stopped in.”
“You’ll be craving it,” I warn with a grin.
“Great. More cravings.”
That piques my curiosity. “Do you already have something you’re craving?”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s pretty early,” she reminds me.
“Oh.”
Hazel stops over with our muffins — which, I’ll be honest, is more of a cupcake than a muffin — and coffee, setting a small pitcher of creamer on the table in front of us.
“Can I get you anything else?”