Sideways (Speakeasy) by Lisa Hughey & Heart Eyes Press

Author:Lisa Hughey & Heart Eyes Press [Hughey, Lisa & Press, Heart Eyes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Heart Eyes Press LLC
Published: 2021-06-30T18:30:00+00:00

Colt

Colt pulled into his grass driveway, following in the worn tire tracks, and drove toward his cabin. He was unexpectedly nervous. The slant roof, single-room cabin had a porch that ran the length of the small structure.

She’d tried to cut him loose this morning. Some bullshit about not being good for him. But she clearly believed it.

She might just be the best thing that had happened to him in months. He had laughed more in the past few days than he had for the entire past year. She’d made him forget his own troubles. The last time he remembered feeling this way, wanting to just spend time in a place, was when he had opened his first restaurant and he’d spent hours there alone. Absorbing the atmosphere and soaking up every detail about the space and how he felt. He’d never felt this way about a woman, about any person really, and he wanted to spend more time in her company.

To see if it was just a fluke or if there was something more there.

“Bring your breakfast up to the porch and I’ll get some plates.”

“I can just eat from the—”

He shot her a look. “Food is a sensual experience. It starts with your eyes.” Just because they got takeout didn’t mean they should treat the food as disposable. She followed him up onto the porch and he gestured to the rockers. “Have a seat and I’ll be right out.”

Meals were meant to be savored. In a metal gardener’s basket, he carried out the table settings: heavy lapis Fiestaware plates and a bowl for her breakfast, bright yellow hand-thrown coffee mugs he’d picked up at a booth at the Colebury Farmers Market one day when his friends dragged him out of his reclusive existence, and cloth napkins and silverware.

He gestured for her bag. She handed it over and he fished out her cup of oatmeal. He grimaced. All those excellent baked goods and she’d gone for the most bland, albeit healthy, item on the menu.

He scooped the oatmeal into the bowl and placed her bowl on the cloth napkin, pale blue with buzzing yellow bees, then set the combo on top of the blue plate. He set the plate on the mini bistro table. He pulled a pair of shears from the gardening basket near the front door and loped down to the edge of the woods to snip some flowers. The cluster of daisies in purples and whites drooped with a goofy cheer.

She sat in quiet bemusement as he plated their breakfast, poured their coffee into the ceramic mugs, and settled the daisies into a creamy milk-glass vase.

“This is so gorgeous.” She pulled out her phone. “Can I take a picture—only of the food,” she clarified. “I’ll tag the Busy Bean and the town. You can never have too much good publicity.”

He frowned at the phone. “Have you thought about just enjoying the moment?”

“That’s difficult for me.” She snapped a few pictures and then tucked the phone away. “I don’t have time for enjoyment.

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