Chapter 8
“You’re distracted.”
Clara groaned and sank deeper into her chair. June’s voice carried its usual sharpness, though her grin softened the jab. The two of them sat in a corner booth of Moonlight Brews after closing, empty mugs pushed aside. The shop was quiet now, the warm lamplight softening the edges of the room that had been buzzing with life all day.
“I’m not distracted,” Clara muttered, fiddling with her spoon.
June arched a brow. “Uh-huh. That’s why you’ve stirred the same teaspoon in an empty cup for five minutes straight.”
Clara set the spoon down with a sigh. “Fine. Maybe a little distracted.”
June leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Let me guess. Tall, blond, gorgeous, looks like he walked out of a magazine?”
Clara blinked. “You saw him?”
“Half the town saw him,” June said, smirking. “He walked into your shop like he owned the place. Honestly, Clara, I thought you were going to faint right there at the counter.”
Clara’s cheeks heated. “I did not.”
“You so did.” June’s grin widened. “And don’t think I didn’t notice how he only had eyes for you.”
Clara shook her head, staring down at the swirl of coffee dregs in her mug. “It’s not like that. He just ordered coffee. Twice.”
“And promised he’d be back tomorrow,” June pointed out. “That’s not nothing.”
Clara bit her lip. The word tomorrow still lingered in her mind, heavy and certain. She tried to laugh it off. “Maybe he just really likes my coffee.”
“Please. A man like that can get coffee anywhere. He came back here for you.” June’s eyes narrowed playfully. “So… who is he?”
Clara hesitated. “I don’t know.”
June tilted her head. “And that doesn’t scare you a little? Mysterious, rich-looking stranger who shows up out of nowhere, stares at you like you’re the only person in the room, and leaves cryptic promises behind? If this were one of those thrillers you keep stacked by your bed, I’d be telling you to lock your doors.”
Clara forced a laugh, though a flicker of unease tugged at her. June wasn’t wrong—there was something intense about him. Something that didn’t fit. And yet, when she thought of his eyes, steady and unyielding, she didn’t feel afraid. She felt… drawn.
“I don’t know what it is,” Clara admitted softly. “But when he looks at me, it feels like… like he knows me. And when our hands touched—” She cut herself off, cheeks flushing.
June’s eyes widened. “Oh my god. There was hand contact? Tell me everything.”
Clara buried her face in her hands. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing,” June repeated flatly. “You’re blushing like you’ve been caught sneaking out of someone’s dorm room, and you want me to believe it was nothing?”
Clara laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “I don’t know what to think. He’s… intense. Like he doesn’t belong here. But at the same time, it feels like—” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “—like I’ve been waiting for him, without even knowing it.”
June’s smile faded, her teasing softening into something gentler. “Clara… just be careful, okay? Guys like that—mysterious, broody, way too good-looking for their own good—they usually come with baggage. The kind that hurts.”
Clara nodded, even though a quiet part of her whispered that she couldn’t stay away, even if she wanted to.
The bell above the door jingled suddenly, making both of them jump.
Clara frowned. She’d locked it earlier.
But when she glanced up, the doorway was empty, the street outside still and dark.
The shop felt too quiet, the shadows stretching just a little too far.
June shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “Okay, that’s officially creepy.”
Clara forced a laugh and reached for her bag. “Probably just the wind.”
But as she shut off the lights, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the forest at the edge of town wasn’t the only thing watching her anymore.