Page 5 of Bound Hearts

I lift a shoulder as if it’s nothing. “Sure. I don’t have any plans.”

“Good.”

We linger for a moment, both quietly admitting this is a pretty good place to be. Conversation just clicks between us, maybe because we’re now orbiting the same social circle. His best friend’s fiancée is my best friend. If we’re going to survive group dinners, why not get to know each other first?

But I also find myself in a complicated predicament. I’m aware he’s single because my best friends, Elodie and Savannah, shared it once. Normally, that would mean an attraction crackling under the surface is safe. But Foster is also the CFO at the company where I started working. I’m a professional. There’s nothing wrong with an innocent coffee and donut, though.

“How are you liking it at Haven Crossroads?” he asks as we begin to stroll down the sidewalk.

“A lot. So many existing and new clients. When you’re dealing with importing and exporting, there’s a lot of tape that you can’t cut through. Most people assume contracts are boring.”

He chuckles. “Most people think numbers are boring. You’re in good company.”

“I would hate to waste my time on coffee, carbs, and conversation with a dull human.”

He stalls, giving me a solid appraisal as he smiles wryly. “Where have they been hiding you?” he reflects.

My forehead creases. “As in?”

“Our friends. You’re not exactly dull. I might need you too, to help me survive dinners and wedding season.”

I like that comment a lot and shrug as we continue to walk. “They always hide the best. But never fear, in the office, I’m tough as nails when needed.”

“I don’t doubt that. You miss Everhope?”

“Nah, I can always visit, and I enjoy having a bit of freedom away from my family. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but sometimes we need space and to explore the world our own way, you know?”

Foster stays quiet for a few seconds longer than expected, almost lost in thought. “Oh, I do. I didn’t follow in my family’s footsteps, but I’m not complaining, well, mostly.”

“Real estate, right?” Not just that. It’s a company worth many figures. But I don’t care about that stuff, mostly because very few know how to remain humble. Nothing is worse than being out with friends when some guy at a bar tries to flaunt his bank account while still acting like a frat boy in his thirties.

“Savannah and Elodie have been talking about me?” He grins cheekily.

I nudge his arm with my own. “They only wanted to provide me with information to ensure my first month at Haven Crossroads was a success and the downlow on who is invited to Savannah’s wedding. Not sure they needed to give me your backstory, but they did.”

He laughs. “That story sounds about right and checks out.”

“Anyways, I am back for the weekend. Leave it to my parents to announce they’re selling their house and retiring to Florida, the same time I announce I’m moving back to Illinois.”

“Probably means there is likely another reason you were meant to move back then.”

We arrive at the park with the gazebo and the view of the steamboat on the river, a restaurant called the Riverbell. Tents and food trucks sprawl across the park with portable heaters hanging at each tent.

I splay my hands out in front of us to present it. “Ta-da. Festival destination.”

He seems impressed. “Looks and smells delicious. Where do we begin?”

“We?”

“Yeah, you can’t walk me three blocks and not be thanked with a coffee,” he states breezily. The corner of his mouth tugs, and his eyes find mine, commanding and persuasive.

The answer is simple: it’s a lazy Saturday, no plans, just letting the day carry me wherever it wants.

“Who could say no to that?”

He extends his arm, indicating for me to lead the way. I feel his hand innocently touch my lower back as I walk past, and it sparks something, as though my chest bounced. We reach the coffee truck, and he briefly skims the board, then glances at me.

“Let me guess, you’re a latte with almond milk type?”