All You Need Is Macchiato (The Coffee Loft Series: Mountain Brew Collection) by Susanne Ash

Author:Susanne Ash [Ash, Susanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-01-29T00:00:00+00:00

I spend the afternoon doing things that definitely don't need my personal attention. Reorganizing the supply closet. Double-checking reservation confirmations. Teaching Lisa, our newest desk clerk, the proper way to fold towels.

"Um, thanks?" She eyes the stack of perfectly folded linens. "Though I'm pretty sure guests don't actually measure the corners."

"Details matter."

"Right." She shares a look with Jameson, who's been watching me with barely concealed amusement.

"Is this about why Kathryn left looking like she wanted to throw something?" he asks.

"Don't you have activities to coordinate?"

"Actually," Jameson leans against the counter, "I thought we could talk about why you're hiding in the linen closet instead of helping plan the harvest festival."

"I'm not hiding. I'm working."

"You color-coded the guest information packets." He picks one up. "Twice."

Before I can defend the importance of proper organization, Aunt Evie appears. "Nolan, would you help me with something in the garden?"

It's not a request. I follow her out to the terrace, where the mountain laurel blooms are fading but still beautiful. She settles onto a bench, patting the space beside her.

"I'm actually pretty busy⁠—"

"Sit."

I sit.

"Connor tells me you spent an hour this morning explaining the proper way to stack firewood."

My cousin has been running his mouth. Not that I’m surprised.

"Nolan." Her voice gentles. "What are you doing?"

"My job."

"No." She gestures to the mountains beyond, painted in late afternoon light. "You're doing what you always do when something matters too much. You're burying yourself in details so you don't have to look at the bigger picture."

"There is no bigger picture." But even I don't believe it anymore. "It's business. The festival, the coffee shop, all of it."

"Is that what you told yourself when you wrote that wish?"

I start. "How did you⁠—"

"I didn't." Her eyes twinkle. "But you just confirmed my suspicion."

Sometimes I forget how crafty she can be.

"It doesn't matter anyway." I stand, needing to move. "Kathryn has her plans, her partnership with Cam. She doesn't need my help."

"Partnership?" Aunt Evie's voice sharpens. "Is that what you think is happening?"

"I know what I saw."

"Do you?" She rises, touching my arm. "Or do you see what you're afraid of seeing?"

"I'm not afraid."

"No?" Her grip tightens slightly. "Then why are you organizing linen closets instead of talking to her?"

Because talking means explaining. Because explaining means admitting that watching her with Cam felt like losing something I never had permission to want.

"Your mother was just like you, you know." Aunt Evie's voice softens with memory. "Always so sure she knew how stories would end. Until your father proved her wonderfully wrong."

"This isn't⁠—"

"A love story?" Her smile is knowing. "Maybe not. But it could be something real, if you'd stop folding towels long enough to find out."

She leaves me with the fading light and her too-accurate words. The mountains stretch endless before me, painted in shades of purple and gold as the sun sets. Somewhere in town, a coffee shop is probably closing for the day. A wall of wishes is waiting to be read.

Including one I wrote too high for anyone to reach.

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