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“If everything tastes this good, you’re going to have folks lined up out the door on Friday.”
Chapter Eight
That’s exactly what she wanted to hear.
Thursday would be the real test when they opened the doors for a couple of hours just to give the community a sampling of what the coffee shop had to offer. And if everyone returned on Friday, she was certainly going to have her hands full.
“What if I run short on milk?” Deanna teases, raising her brows. It was easy to flirt with him in front of her employees…wait, was that what she was doing? Flirting?
“I guess you’d have to call me,” he says then halts when he realizes what just came out of his mouth.
Thank goodness the others have returned to their beverage making. “I suppose so, except there’s one problem.”
“Problem?”
“I don’t have your phone number.”
Their gazes briefly lock. Deanna couldn’t believe she just asked for his number. Not directly, per se, but how else was she supposed to contact him if she did indeed run low on inventory?
Gavin reaches for his wallet and pulls out a business card. “Do you have a pen?”
Reaching for the one she’d dropped into her apron pocket earlier, she removes it and hands it to him. She can’t help watching his hands—he always did have long, slender fingers—as he scribbles something on the backside of the card.
“Here ya go,” he says, his fingers lightly brushing against hers when he hands it over.
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to keep it close by.”
“Even if you don’t run low on milk, you can still call me.” And with that, Gavin turns on his heel and rushes to the back door.
Deanna isn’t sure what to make of what just happened. She hadn’t thought about a man since she and Don parted ways, so Gavin suggesting that she call him is more than she planned on dealing with today.
“How’s it going in here?” she asks, joining the others behind the counter again.
“We’re doing great. We’ve made quite a few drinks today.” Marilyn drops an empty carton of milk into the trashcan, then looks over at her and winks.
“Not you too,” Deanna laughs and rolls her eyes.
“He’s really in to you, Ms. Deanna,” Katelynn notes. “I’m sorry I mistook him for your husband.”
“Don’t be sorry. If he’d had his way a long time ago, he might’ve ended up being my husband. Fate had other plans for us, though.”
“I definitely think you should call him.” Marilyn nudges her on the arm. “Friday is still a few days away and if we went through this much milk already, you’d hate to run out on grand opening day.”
Marilyn had a good point, but she also knew she was giving her a hard time, too. “We’ll see how it goes tomorrow.”
An hour later, Deanna walks out back with everyone. “Thanks for all your hard work today,” she says, pulling her sweater tightly over her chest. “I swear it looks like it’s going to snow again.”
“If I remember correctly, another couple of inches is expected between now and the weekend. Looks like everything is going to be all pretty and white again. No more of this brown, icky sludge.” Marilyn kicks a chunk of dirty ice with her boot.
“Ideal conditions for selling lots of coffee and hot chocolate!” Deanna is quick to point out.
“That’s why you need to go ahead and call your friend.”
“Stop!!!” she bursts out laughing. “It’s not like that at all. What we had back then, well, it ended when I moved away. Besides, we were nothing more than kids back then.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
Avoiding Marilyn’s question, she wishes them all a good night and hurries back inside to finish cleaning up.
