And while I was listening, I heard Sabrina moving around next door.
And when I heard her open her front door, I peeked out to watch her and Jitter leave for their morning walk.
“I was checking to see if it snowed more overnight,” I tell Zen.
“It hasn’t snowed since before we hit the speakeasy last night, and you know there’s no more snow in the forecast for at least a week.” They stride to the front door, fling it open, and lean out.
“Morning, Sabrina,” they call as they step outside without a coat.
“Morning, Zen,” comes back.
“Hungover today?”
“Not at all. You?”
“I’m fabulous. Who’s a good puppy? Yes, who’s the bestest puppy?”
My front door shuts, and I can hear nothing else going on outside.
I can hear what goes on inside the unit next to me—including that toothbrush that still makes stars dance in my vision in the good way when I let myself imagine it’s Sabrina pleasuring herself with a vibrator—but I can’t hear what’s going on outside.
So I do what any sane man who’s obsessed with a woman he can’t have would do.
I pull on my coat, hat, and gloves and join them.
Under the guise of it being time to leave, naturally.
Both of them go silent when I open the door.
Sabrina’s in leggings under a thick, puffy jacket, showing off every one of her curves. Her eyes sparkle under the porch light. Her hair seems extra curly, and I want to wrap it around my fingers while I bend down and— I clear my throat and lecture myself about respecting people’s boundaries again. “Morning, Sabrina.”
“Good morning, boss-man,” she replies cheerfully while her dog lunges for me and rubs his fur all over my pants and coat.
Annoying, that.
Not the dog.
Being called boss-man, I mean.
It’s annoying because it reminds me that the deadline I gave her to find me another way to ruin her cousin is almost here, and as much as I’m madly in obsession with her, I can’t bring myself to say the words talk to me about how you can buy this building back from me, even if it’s a nickel at a time.
“Ready, Zen?” I ask.
“Um, no. I haven’t had breakfast, and I’m still in my pajamas.”
“Guess you’re walking to work.”
“I’ll give you a lift,” Sabrina tells them.
“Perfect. See you at work, Uncle Grey.”
I don’t want to go to the café.
I don’t even need to go to the café.
For the first time in years, I want to linger closer to a woman that I still don’t fully trust, but that I want to trust.
Not her fault.
She hasn’t done a damn thing wrong.
I just don’t trust easily.
I head to the café rather than standing there looking like a stalker, then decide this is the last place I should be today.
Willa was in early this morning, and she’s decorated the café for Valentine’s Day.
There are hearts hung on strings in the windows overlooking the lake. Pink and red streamers twisted from the fireplace in the center of the room to the exterior walls. Red candleholders with heart-shaped candles floating inside each of them.
“Are you participating?” she asks me as I’m taking it all in.
“No.”
She slides me a look that I interpret to mean because you’re secretly dating Sabrina, or because you have another reason? “I heard you were at Silver Horn with Sabrina and her friends last night.”
“Coincidence.”
“But her dog sat on you.”
“Her dog has awful taste in humans.”
“Nonsense. Theo’s his favorite human after Sabrina, and Theo is good people. Also, please leave the cappuccino machine alone until we’ve fully trained you.”
Between the décor and the very clear you are causing issues here vibes, I decide it’s better to check out and run over to Tiara Falls for the morning. There’s an issue with the Bean & Nugget building that I’m selling there, and I’m happy to let that issue take my entire morning.
When I’m done, I take myself out to lunch in Tiara Falls. And since Sabrina’s shift should be over when I’ve finished, I head back to Snaggletooth Creek and the café there.
And I find it an absolute zoo. The parking lot is packed, and I have to park down the street and walk back.
Odd for midafternoon. This is the time of day when things usually slow way down.
When I step in the back door, the kitchen is empty.
But there’s a swell of voices louder than anything I’ve heard coming from the dining room.
I follow the voices into the front, then I go lightheaded at the sight before me and have to grip the doorframe.
It’s not that half the townspeople of Snaggletooth Creek seem to be here. It’s not that there’s no one at the register, where we have a small line of customers waiting to order. It’s not even that Sabrina’s still here and sitting in my favorite chair in front of the gas fireplace, with her dog on the floor gazing at the person in the matching chair with utter adoration.
It’s that Mimi is here.
“Boarding school!” Sabrina’s saying while everyone else crowds around. “That explains so much. Was it a specialized boarding school, or a general boarding school?”
“Don’t answer that,” I say to my grandmother as my vision clears, belatedly remembering that I told Sabrina myself that I went to boarding school.
My grandmother.
She is not supposed to be here.
But she’s smiling in a way I haven’t seen her smile in months. Possibly longer.
Her straight silver hair is cropped close to her head, definitely newly cut, and for a split second, the thought crosses my mind that Sabrina’s mom might have trimmed it for her.
Ridiculous.
Of course she didn’t.
Mimi’s in pink lipstick and wearing bright-red dangly teardrop earrings that are making her ears droop more than the normal effects of gravity. Her wrinkled cheeks wrinkle deeper as she flashes me the brightest smile I’ve seen on her face since her sister died almost a year ago, sending her into a grief so much heavier than anything I witnessed when my grandfather died.
Considering just how much of a bastard he was, that makes sense.
But it’s been awful watching her retreat into being a shell of the person she was while living under the cloud of missing her best friend in the entire world.
“Grey!” she says. “You’re back. Sabrina was just telling me how kind you were to save their family from massive debts by buying this quaint little café from them. Without telling me.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
Her eyes twinkle. They twinkle. She hasn’t twinkled in so long. “Making friends.”
“Sabrina’s the biggest gossip in this town,” I blurt before I can remind myself that I like being on her good side. “Don’t tell her anything you don’t want anyone else to know.”
Everyone in the room cracks up.
Everyone.
Including Zen. And Mimi.
“Sweetheart, when you’re my age, you won’t care who says what about you either, including people who have seen you naked.”
And now I’m picturing Sabrina naked.
Beneath me.
On top of me.
Sideways and upside down and in a bedroom and on the beach and against a tree.
Fuck.
“But don’t worry,” she adds. “I’m not telling anyone anything about my favorite grandson that they can’t find out with a simple internet search.”
Sabrina props her cheek on her fist, one-handing a steaming mug of coffee. “Your favorite, hmm?”
“Such a sweet boy. He was a surprise ten years after his next-closest sibling, and the poor thing got the short end of every stick. Tired parents, the family trust fund running low—”
“How did you get here?” I interrupt. Zen’s been with me practically nonstop. They didn’t go get her. They couldn’t have. They didn’t have the car.
And they didn’t say Mimi was coming.
They would’ve told me that Mimi was coming.
“I walked,” Mimi says dryly. She sips coffee, then closes her eyes and sighs with deep satisfaction. “That is delicious. Where did you say these beans are from?”
“Honduras,” Sabrina answers. “We don’t serve them here, which isn’t my choice, but when you said you loved coffee, I broke into my home stash for the best stuff.”