Leaning against the counter, I pull out my goat notebook and look over my notes. There’s so much I want to do, but I honestly don’t know where to start. I really want to go over this stuff with Rowan, and that was the idea lurking in my head the other night, to maybe talk some things through. But then, when we started just getting to know each other and having fun, I didn’t feel like bringing up the coffee shop.
Nope, I brought up his dead brother instead.
Smart, Bonnie. Really smart.
Exhaling, I press my forehead to my hand and start doodling on the side of my notebook.
Dakota is over at the bakeshop—no shock there—and through the open door, I spot Lachlan and Leith, in just their kilts, of course, doing jumping jacks and lifting a log over their heads while Fergus watches over them. Tourists from the current bus circle around, counting along with them and taking pictures.
Yup, quite the sight to behold.
I’ve checked out a few of their training videos online, and they really have something going for them. And Dakota has been helping them out with some graphics—I’ve seen the rough drafts, and they are going to die over them.
A large frame steps through the door, pulling me from my doodling. Rowan’s face comes into focus as my eyes adjust to the light. I lift myself up off the counter, a smile stretching over my face.
“Hey.”
“Hey, is Dakota here?” He glances around.
“No.”
“Och, okay. Is she at the bakeshop?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just wanted a chat.” He turns to walk away, and I nearly trip over my own feet running after him.
“Wait a second. That’s all?”
Chuckling, he turns back and pulls me close. “Just kidding, lass. Wanted to see how you were going to react.”
“Pissing me off isn’t doing you any favors.”
“It has been since I met you.” He gives me the smallest of kisses and then releases me before walking over to a table and bringing me with him. We both take a seat, and he leans back, casually sitting in the chair while my body hums, ready for anything he wants to give. “Saw a man leave here with some coffee.”
“He said he liked boring coffee, so this was the place for him.”
“Ouch.” Rowan laughs and glances around the empty space. “So . . . what’s the plan?”
“Plan?”
“For the shop. What are you going to do?”
“Oh, well, I mean . . . I have some ideas, but I haven’t started anything.”
“Why not?”
“Because I wanted to run them by you first. This is your family’s shop, after all.”
“Aye, true.” He nods at me. “Then, run ’em by me.”
Simple as that, huh?
Excited to share, I run to the counter, grab my notebook and pen, and sit down across from him. “Now, these are just ideas—nothing is concrete.”
“Hit me.”
“Well, we need to power wash these floors—they’re grimy and need a new life.”
He glances down. “Aye. I have a power washer.”
“That’s amazing, really? God, I love power washers. Unsung heroes of renovating. I can’t wait to blow the dirt off these—”
“You’re not using it,” he says with finality. “I’ll do it.”
Uh, excuse me?
“Oh no. I’ll have the pleasure of doing it. I’ve spent way too many bored hours in here watching power-washing compilations on YouTube to not have the pleasure of doing it myself.”
“You’ve been watching power-washing videos on YouTube?”
Doesn’t everybody?
“Yes, it’s quite soothing. Like raking sand in one of those sand gardens people keep on desks. It’s crazy satisfying to watch dirt be blasted away by water. I’m afraid to admit I’ve probably committed at least ten hours to watching compilations online. Paired with fun music, and you’ve got yourself a wonderful way to waste some time.”
He blinks a few times. “You’re serious.”
“Do I need to show you my YouTube history? I don’t even need to search them out anymore—they just show up on the suggested feed. But do you know what really chaps my ass?” I lean forward conspiratorially. “It’s when these YouTube people compile some of the same power-washing videos. I’ve seen them already—we want new material.” I shake my fist in the air.
“I think I’m going to take back the other night.”
“Can’t,” I say with a smile. “Already had my mouth on your dick, and that means I claimed you.” His eyes seductively narrow as he shifts in his chair. “Oh, you like that, huh? Me talking about having your c—”