Trenton stood in the big front window of his coffee shop, looking out across the street.
None of his regular customers paid any attention, since it had been a regular occurrence for them to see him standing there with a scowl since the day Scottie had opened a competing coffee shop over there.
What they couldn’t see this time, though, was that Trenton wasn’t scowling at all. He hadn’t been all week, in fact.
Now every time he looked across the street, Trenton couldn’t help but smile.
It really was the damnedest thing.
He’d been so convinced that Scottie was someone he didn’t like—wouldn’t like—and didn’t want to know that he’d completely ignored the fact that they actually had a lot in common.
Trenton was kicking himself now, knowing that they could have actually been friends all this time.
He really felt like they were getting closer, though, and Trenton didn’t want to take that new-found friendship for granted.
“Have you heard anything else about that dog over there?” Clarence called out across the shop, interrupting Trenton’s thoughts. “I haven’t seen her since… you know.”
“Sasha’s doing better,” Trenton said, the memories of that day—and of his conversation with Clarence about Sasha that same day—made his stomach clench. “She’s a tough dog. A good dog. Scottie has had to keep her at home to recover, though, so I doubt anyone will be seeing much of her for a while, unfortunately.”
Trenton neglected to mention that he had seen Sasha just the night before last. That news would have probably made old Clarence fall right off his perch at the tall bistro table.
Was it wrong that Trenton was even more tempted to mention it after that thought?
Yes. That was probably wrong.
Still tempting, though.
“I think that might be the first time I’ve heard you say his name,” Clarence said, cocking his head to the side as Trenton turned to face him. “In fact, I’m almost sure of it. And I know that’s the first time I’ve heard you say the dog’s name.” He grunted. “You going soft in your old age, Trenton?”
“Not that old, first of all,” Trenton said, trying and failing to keep the hint of irritation out of his voice. “And it has nothing to do with being soft or being tough. That’s just his name. Scottie. And his dog’s name is Sasha.” Trenton shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
“If you say so,” Clarence mumbled, but never took his eyes off Trenton as he raised the cup of coffee in front of him to his lips.
Trenton took a deep breath and turned back to the window, hoping that would be the end of their conversation.
He liked Clarence well enough. The man had certainly been a loyal customer over the years, and that did count for something.
But there was no doubt that Clarence liked to stir up a little trouble whenever he got an opportunity. It was a tendency that Trenton had fallen into more than once over the years, and one that he wasn’t proud of.
Especially not the latest time.
It still left a bad taste in Trenton’s mouth that he had let himself be goaded into calling the health inspector. He should have listened to his gut that day and left Scottie alone. Or, if he had really felt so strongly about it, he should have at least had the balls to call Scottie first.
But maybe everything had happened for a reason.
Maybe things would have worked out differently if he hadn’t made that call.
And while he wished like hell that Sasha hadn’t gotten hurt, he couldn’t make himself be upset about finally getting an opportunity to clear the air with Scottie. That day had been a long time coming, and without Sasha there to bring them together, it still probably wouldn’t have happened for a long time, if ever.
“You gonna sit down over here and have some lunch with me today?” Clarence asked. “It’s been about a week since I’ve really even seen you milling around out here, now that I think about it.”
“I’ve been busy,” Trenton lied, glancing back over his shoulder at Clarence.
He’d been trying to limit the number of times he let himself walk up to stand in front of the window, since it only made him think about Scottie even more. And maybe he’d been avoiding Clarence a little since that day earlier in the week, too.
“Doesn’t look like you’re too busy right now,” Clarence said, smirking as he nodded toward the empty seat next to him. “Come on. It won’t hurt you to sit down for a while.”
Trenton only hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “Sorry, Clarence,” he said, not feeling sorry at all as he turned on his heel and headed back toward his office. “I can’t join you today. I’ve got plans.”
It might have been a little bit of a stretch to call the idea that was forming in his head a plan, but it was definitely something. And the more Trenton thought about it, the more convinced he became that it was something he wanted to do.
By the time he reached his office, the smile he’d been wearing for days now had returned. He wasn’t going to have to worry about trying to avoid Clarence or the front window anymore today.
Nope.
He wasn’t even going to worry about trying to keep Scottie off his mind this afternoon.
There wouldn’t be any point, anyway. But especially not today.
Because the next time Trenton left his office that afternoon, it would be to walk across the street.
His plan involved doing something he’d never done before.
Today, Trenton was going to walk into Steamin’ Beans for the very first time. Today, he was planning to visit Scottie.
One thing Trenton hadn’t counted on was the rush of nerves and self-consciousness he’d feel as he walked across the street from his coffee shop to Scottie’s.
He wasn’t about to let a sudden bout of nerves stop him from following through with his idea, though.
Still, it was a little difficult not to feel sort of silly as he carried the bag of sandwiches and baked goods that he’d hastily assembled before rushing out the door.
Scottie probably served most, if not all, of those things at his own shop. It wasn’t like he needed Trenton to bring him lunch.
But it was the best that Trenton could come up with, and the best excuse he could think of to at least talk to Scottie for a few minutes— and to see if that weird, kind of wonderful feeling was still there.
Part of him really hoped it would be, because he honestly couldn’t imagine the thought of going back to the way things had been before. He didn’t like being that bitter, unhappy person.
Hell, he barely even recognized that person after the past week.
Sure, there was plenty of things in his life he could bitch and moan about if he tried hard enough, but what he’d realized by hanging around Scottie was that it didn’t have to be that way.
Scottie was a single man, a business owner in his early thirties who lived alone aside from Sasha. In a lot of ways, his life was on a very similar path to Trenton’s.
But he’d approached all of it with such a different attitude that being around Scottie was like seeing some kind of alternate reality—one where Trenton could have been happy with the things he had, one where he could have been kind and thankful.
He wanted that reality, but even now, it seemed like it was just out of reach.
At least now he knew it was there, though. That felt like real progress compared to how he’d regarded his life and his prospects for the future just a week ago.
Finally across the street, Trenton took a deep breath as he placed his hand on the door handle. Was this a stupid idea? Would Scottie think he was ridiculous—or worse, would he see through Trenton’s flimsy excuse to make conversation?
He sighed and opened the door. Not much use in worrying about that now, was there?
He would look even more ridiculous to turn around and take a bag full of food back to his own shop.
“Trenton,” Scottie’s voice rang out across the busy shop. Much busier, Trenton noticed, than his place currently was. Damn. The mid-day rush at Trenton’s shop had ended nearly an hour ago, and yet there were still half a dozen people in line here, with probably twice as many scattered around at the tables eating and drinking. “Give me just a second and I’ll be right with you.”
“No rush,” Trenton replied, feeling several pairs of eyes on him as he stood there waiting.
Yeah, this had definitely been a dumb idea.
He hadn’t even considered the possibility of having to wait around while Scottie worked, let alone how inconsiderate it felt to interrupt Scottie when he was clearly busy.
And for what? A couple of sandwiches and some bread that was nearly identical to what he was serving here?
“Hey,” Scottie said, pulling Trenton from his thoughts as he bounded around the corner from the front counter. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty good,” Trenton said, suddenly forgetting all the reasons why it wasn’t actually going well at all. He held up the bag. “I just… ah… just came to drop something off for you.”
“Really?” Scottie’s eyes lit up as he took the bag and peered inside. “Oh, wow. Thank you so much. Is this all for me?”
Trenton grinned. If Scottie thought it was ridiculous that Trenton had brought the food over, he was doing a damn good job of pretending otherwise. “As much of it as you want. I thought you might… you know… be hungry? But I can see that you’re pretty busy, so I can just talk to you later if you want—”
“No,” Scottie said, interrupting and placing a hand on Trenton’s arm. Trenton’s eyes tracked the movement and his throat suddenly went dry. “Come back here for a minute if you want. You came at just the right time, actually. I’m starving.”
Trenton followed him back to the small office—so much like his own across the street, just with less clutter.
“Have a seat,” Scottie said, nodding at the chair next to the desk. “You are going to help me eat some of this, right? There’s no way I can finish it all myself—oh wow, and bread, too? It smells amazing, Trenton. Thank you.”
Trenton felt his face heat up as he sat down. Scottie was beaming at him, and looked genuinely thrilled with the contents of the bag.
Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been a completely dumb decision to bring it over.
“I could stay for a few minutes if you want,” Trenton said, trying to be as noncommittal as possible just in case Scottie was only trying to be polite. “But honestly it’s no problem if you don’t have time or—”
“Great,” Scottie interrupted, already pulling the sandwiches out of the bag. “Looks like this one is turkey and swiss? And then… oh, is this salami?”
“Salami, mortadella, and provolone,” Trenton replied. “I didn’t know if you’d like it—or what you’d like, really—but that’s one of our most popular ones, so…” He shrugged, letting his voice trail off.
“Love it. I’m going to have this one, then,” Scottie said, keeping the Italian-style sandwich in front of him as he passed the other one to Trenton. “Unless you’d rather not have turkey?” He nibbled at his lip as his eyebrows knitted together. “I guess I got a little excited to try something new here.”
Trenton opened his hands and laughed. “By all means, you have that one. They’re both for you, after all.”
Somehow, Scottie could make what might have been an ordinary meal seem like something exciting. Trenton was just happy that Scottie seemed pleased with the food and hadn’t been put out by the fact that Trenton had stopped over unannounced.
And now that he was thinking about it, Trenton wasn’t sure why he’d been so worried in the first place. He knew Scottie was laid-back and easy-going. It was difficult to imagine him getting upset about anything, really. Especially something as trivial as lunch.
“So what brings you over?” Scottie asked between bites. “I mean, unless you were just looking to share some lunch? Which I’m obviously totally fine with, by the way.” He grinned. “Gifts of food are always welcome. Encouraged, even.”
Trenton laughed. “Good to know. But I just thought I’d bring you this as a way to say thank you for dinner the other night. And I wanted to check up on Sasha. Is she here with you today?”
Scottie’s expression immediately softened. “Thank you so much for asking. She’s doing better every day. Still in some pain at times, which is to be expected, but Lane says she should make a full recovery once she’s had time to heal. And you’re very welcome for dinner. Like I said that night, I’d love for you to come over again sometime.”
Trenton nodded. “I’d like that. And maybe I could talk to you about… ah… business?”
Scottie seemed surprised, even confused for a moment before his expression went back to the easy, neutral smile that was more or less permanently etched onto his face.
“Anytime,” Scottie said. “Anything in particular? About the business, I mean…”
Trenton hadn’t meant to bring it up at all, but the little voice in the back of his mind wouldn’t shut up about the fact that Scottie’s shop was so much busier than Trenton’s.
And not just today.
There had been plenty of times when Trenton had looked over to see the parking lot in front of Scottie’s place nearly full while Trenton’s had barely a handful of cars. It happened more times than he’d care to admit, actually.
“Nothing in particular,” Trenton said, hoping he sounded a lot more nonchalant about it than he was actually feeling at the moment. “I was just sort of curious if you did much advertising, or…” He shrugged. “Or whatever. But if that’s weird to talk about then it’s no big deal, honestly. I just thought that maybe—”
“How about we discuss it over dinner?” Scottie interrupted, smiling warmly. “My place again? Tuesday night?”
“Really?” Trenton asked, his eyes searching Scottie’s for any sign of hesitation or uneasiness. He didn’t see anything like that, though. “Tuesday is great for me. That would be… perfect.”
“Perfect,” Scottie echoed. “That’s settled, then. And Sasha will be happy to see you again, too.”
“Likewise,” Trenton said, meaning it. “I’m already looking forward to it.”
“I’ll consult with Martha for the menu,” Scottie said, tossing Trenton a quick wink. “But I’m looking forward to it, too. It’ll be fun.”
Trenton nodded. He felt like Scottie was being sincere, that for whatever reason, Scottie really did want Trenton to come over—that it really would probably be fun.
And for once, Trenton wasn’t going to question it.
For once, he was going to let himself have fun without worrying about anything else.
He was going to try, at least.