The Catching Kind (12 page)

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Authors: Caitie Quinn

BOOK: The Catching Kind
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He'd just finished telling me what he thought of me wanting to meet his brother when The Brew came into sight. The cute little sun umbrellas were already open giving an extra dash of color to the cottage-looking building with its quaint shutters and gaslights.

"Wow. If the coffee is anywhere as good as the shop looks, this may be my new go-to spot."

I froze. Just stopped walking right there in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing the woman behind us to curse and dodge around us.

"What?" Connor loosened his grip on my shoulders so he could turn to face me.

"I think we need to create some ground rules."

 "You mean, about the coffee shop." 

"I mean about a lot of things." I glanced down the street, looking to see if anyone was coming. "But, maybe this is one of those apartment conversations you were discussing this morning."

Connor nodded, drawing me back around under his arm. "In the meantime, I won't get attached."

Perfect. That would be my mantra too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

TEN

 

The inside of The Brew was warm and cozy and welcoming—just like always. Today it was the guy standing next to me that gave me a bit of a chill. It was like a cool, calm summer evening before a storm, lulling you into going out in shorts without an umbrella.

I was not going to be lulled.

I was lull’less.

I headed toward the counter, Connor following behind me, his hand slipping to the curve of my back again. We were early for the Sunday morning crowd and only had to wait a minute or two before Abby the Barista deigned to greet us in her usual warm and sunny manner.

Yes. That was sarcasm.

"You're early.” She pointed toward our empty corner. “Your friends aren't here yet."

"Right. I saw that."

"Maybe you want to come back later and not lounge around taking up space."

"We'd really rather lounge." I smiled, trying to rush past this part and get to the tea and muffin goodness.

Abby fixed me with her patent-ready stare. At eighteen she was more hard-nailed than Catherine was. If Catherine ever quit agenting, Abby might be a good person to step in. She'd probably have publishers crying.

"Abby." John's voice came from the backroom. "We've talked about threatening our regulars, right?"

"It wasn't a threat." Abby glanced my way and it felt like a threat. "It was just a suggestion."

John pushed through the swinging door, his arms filled with to-go cups and gave me a warm smile. "Morning, Hailey."

"Hey, John."

I waited. I'd been through too many of these learning situations with Abby. Oddly, the girl didn't seem to mind being corrected in front of an audience and I knew John liked to do it right away. Like you might with a puppy.

I know a few customers who would pay good money to watch him rap her on the nose with a rolled up paper.

"Abby, you know Hailey and her friends are here more than any of our other customers. They spend more money here than anyone else. They do it because they buy the time to lounge. I've also seen all of them occasionally slip a twenty in the tip jar to thank you, so not only is it rude to suggest she leave and come back when her friends are here, it's bad business."

I'd watched him do this over and over again. Explain not just the soft reasons, but the business reasons for doing something. 

Jenna had told me once Abby was in some type of manager-training program for at-risk teens. She was here during the day too, so high school obviously wasn't working out. She'd recently started carrying one of those big GED books around, so I was hoping that she was making the most of what John offered her. 

"Fine.” She sighed as if he was pointing out a detrimental truth that she was going to have to accept in order to allow world order to continue. “You're right. They spend money."

"And you secretly like me." I grinned. I couldn't help it. She might be eighteen, but there was something about pushing her a little. 

"If I liked you, why would I keep it a secret?" This question seemed to really confuse her.

I just kept smiling at her, waiting for her next snappy comeback. Abby upset Jenna the Soft Hearted and confused Kasey the Kind. But me? I got a kick out of her. I knew that girl could do anything she put her mind to based on pure stubbornness.

"You." Abby had finally spotted Connor. I was hoping for a little star struck'ness. "You're the guy who shows up on all those trashy magazines covers."

Oh. Oh, that was even better. 

"Um. Yeah?" Connor looked at me not quite sure what to say. 

But it was nice someone else was calling him on his public dating habits.

Abby shook her head and looked at me like I'd gone nuts. "What are you doing with him?"

I almost jumped the counter and hugged her. All the looks, all the worry about what he'd be doing with me, and it took a grumpy, eighteen-year-old to ask the opposite.

"Well, you can tell he's a little lost when it comes to women.” I grinned at her because, really, she was making me so happy right now. “I'm mostly humoring him I think. He asked me out and he's kept me amused, so we'll see where it goes."

She nodded like this was the most logical reason for me to be standing there with one of the country's top bachelors.

"Abby." John came back and hovered. "Have you asked them what they're having yet?"

Back to business.

"What are you having?"

"I'll have a green tea and a chocolate muffin."

"Heated?"

"Of course." As if this all needed to be done. Abby could have had the order finished before I reached the counter.

"And him?" She glanced toward Connor and then back at me as if she wasn't sure he could put a whole sentence together.

After a short silence, I answered for him. "Coffee."

"Plain coffee?" She sounded even more horrified by the idea of plain coffee. "He can get plain coffee anywhere. John just bought a new bean from Venezuela. He should try that."

"Okay." I nodded. Let’s just move this along. I wanted my muffin. 

"Wait a second." Connor finally spoke up after watching Abby and I bounce words back and forth like two kids playing catch. "How do you know I'll like these new beans from Venezuela?"

"Everyone likes them."

"That's not true.” Connor nodded his head in my direction. “She's having tea."

"Well, if she drank coffee she'd like them."

"Maybe I just want plain coffee,” he argued.

After watching him order last night, I highly doubted that.

"Do you?" I asked. "Do you want plain coffee?"

Connor looked at me as if I were betraying him.

"No." Answering didn't stop the scowling. "But that doesn't mean I can't pick out my own coffee. I'm not an idiot."

I patted his hand where it rested on my shoulder. I was really enjoying being the calm one for once.

"Okay. Tell Abby what you want." I gave him a sweet smile. He seemed like he needed it with the coffee emergency and all.

Connor frowned in my general direction before swinging his gaze toward the chalkboard over the counter. "What's the Pandora's Blend?"

"Oh." Abby brightened immediately. I could see I was going to lose my ally before the conversation was over. "Good choice."

She went on to explain some complicated roasting and combining methods for the beans I couldn't have cared much less about. What I did care about was that Connor was doing that smile-welcome-attention-bonding thing and slowing down my chocolate muffin arrival.

Not to mention, winning Abby over. 

I walked down the counter, eyeing the muffins as I went. I was two seconds away from pressing my nose against the glass and drooling when John popped out of the backroom again.

"Why don't I just get that for you before you swoon?"

"Thank you.” I managed to tear my gaze off the pastries to smile at John. “You're a god among men."

He popped the muffin in the microwave and turned back, leaning on the display case.

"Speaking of god among men..." John nodded his head toward Connor. "Looks like he gained another fan. Didn't take him long."

"I know. It's disgusting." Even I noticed the distinct lack of heat in my words. I wanted to believe it was, but every time I saw him with someone, he came off as so genuine, I was beginning to believe what he’d said about the bad day and the challenge his brother had thrown at him.

"I meant more, what are you doing with him?" He waved a hand before I could go on the attack. I was sick of not being good enough. "You're smart, funny, successful, and pretty. Why are you with a guy who has a whole column every week dedicated to being shallow?"

I didn’t know if Connor heard any of that. Part of me wished he had. He needed a little bit of a reality check about how the real world viewed him. The other part didn't want to see his feelings hurt.

I started to politely tell him to mind his own business, but then I looked closer and saw the concern.

"He's settling down."

John just raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked. 

"Go grab your chair. I'll bring your tea over while she explains every variety of coffee bean known to woman."

I wasn't going to argue. While I needed my Sunday morning muffin, I didn't
need
Connor. Even if it would have been fun to tell him all about The Brew while I ate. I could enjoy the deliciousness while he schmoozed.

I settled into one of the overstuffed sofas near the fireplace. We met there every weekend—me, Jenna, Kasey, and Kasey's boyfriend Max. Jayne came when she wasn’t working one of her three jobs. When Jenna's guy Ben was around, he’d join us and we were also blessed with the effervescence of Dane when he wasn't: A. hungover, B. still in bed, or C. still in someone else's bed. 

Anyway you looked at it, Sundays were my chill with friends morning. One of my favorite parts of the week.

Connor finally got an order in and settled down in the chair next to me and propped his feet on the beat up coffee table before taking a sip of his steaming hot coffee.

John followed close behind him with my tea.

"This place is great. I'm surprised it's not packed." 

I was glad we'd already decided to discuss ground rules. The Brew Ha Ha was mine and he couldn't have it. I'd hand over Catherine before I handed over The Brew.

I also didn't want it to become
A Spot. 

"Connor, this place is where I work and meet my friends. I need you to not be bringing craziness here."

"I don't bring craziness."

"Please. Your life is the definition of craziness."

"Worst case scenario is John gets a little more business and keeps Abby out of trouble. I think it's pretty obvious he needs all the help he can get on that front."

"I'm serious Connor." I leaned forward in my chair, desperate for him to really understand what I was saying. "This place is more than a coffee shop. Do not ruin it for me."

I'd met Jenna for the first time here when she'd already had her first book out and I couldn't believe she'd take the time to have coffee with me. We'd met Kasey here when she'd lost her job and her boyfriend in one swoop. We'd cried together and eaten chocolate cookies fresh from the oven when Jenna's boyfriend, Ben, had gotten on a plane to London. We'd celebrated sales and bestsellers and mourned bad reviews and rejections. When Jayne showed up, this was the first place she asked Kasey to bring her.

This coffee shop was our equivalent of other girls' bars. 

It was our Cheers. Our second home.

"If we can keep The Brew under the radar that would be great." I smiled, knowing how hard that might be. And, on a sudden whim, added, “I don’t mind sharing.” 

Connor gazed back at me, no expression whatsoever on his face. That had to be something he'd perfected being chased by cameras all the time. One more reason I didn't need them staying in my life when he was gone.

"Hailey, the entire point of our being together is for people to see us together."

"I know." I did. Trust me. I'd been dealing with that fact for a few days now. "But, when this is over, what if you had to move out of your house? This is my second home. Please, Connor."

His gaze softened, an understanding smile shaping his lips. He leaned forward to speak when a voice interrupted me from behind. 

"Hey.” Jenna glanced between us, an unreadable expression on her face for once.

"Hey. You’re here." Now that she was here, I really had no idea what to say. I was glad she knew what was going on, but I was a bit embarrassed to be caught together. 

Connor rose from his chair, probably glad not to have me challenging him any more, and stuck his hand out. I should have expected it. He'd shown perfect manners toward everyone else. He always went out of his way to put people at ease.

I guess I hadn't expected that to extend to my friends. The friends seemed to be the equivalent of “off hours” when you didn't have to do your job anymore.

"I'm Connor. You must be Jenna."

I'll admit it. I was surprised and impressed. Sure, he'd seen the pictures of my close friends and family in the apartment. He'd heard the brief overview of the girls at dinner. He knew they knew.

But that was it.

And yet, he'd picked out Jenna.

"Yes. I'm Jenna. The one who will be watching every step you take for the next several weeks and plotting my revenge well in advance if you hurt her." She leaned in, her usual pixie face taking on an almost threatening gleam. "I write fiction. I have a very active imagination. In my brain, nothing can stop me. It doesn't matter if you're bigger, faster, or richer. If you hurt her, they'll be looking for your body for years."

Connor's eyes had gone wider than those big night game lights and I have to admit, I was awed—I mean, shocked. Yeah. Shocked.

The writer in me couldn't wait to see what she was going to come up with next.

The faux girlfriend knew I had to step in.

"Connor, Jenna drinks chamomile in the morning. You can see why."

Proving once again that he was smarter than the public gave him credit for, Connor pulled his hand from the tiny one it was trapped in and headed toward the counter. Abby was whispering at him before he even made it all the way there.

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