Cafe Latte

Chapter Five

Josselin continued to order blackeyes with increasingly large numbers of shots, until it was almost all espresso and maybe an inch of coffee.

It was Sunday morning, and Meara brought out Josselin's usual drink and scone, and he said, "You know, it would probably be cheaper to go back to your zombie and you'd get an equivalent amount of caffeine."

Josselin grinned and looked up from his work. No buttercream on Meara's face, this time, but there was a smudge of flour on his chin, like he'd scratched at an itch without washing his hands first.

He meant to say, It's okay, I like the hardcore blackeyes, but what he said was, "You have flour on your chin."

Meara's eyes went just a little wider, just barely, and he wiped at his chin with his knuckles. He chuckled a little and wiped the flour off on his apron.

"At least it wasn't buttercream, this time. That stuff's a mess. Gets everywhere."

"I imagine the flour does, too," Josselin said.

Meara wiped his now clean hands down the front of his apron, that familiar nervous gesture, and he opened his mouth when the doorbell rang and a small family walked in. He looked over his shoulder and called, "I'll be right with you!" then back at Josselin and said, "Let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

That was the perfect opening to ask for a date, Josselin chided himself, but he didn't say anything as he watched Meara rush back behind the counter to wash his hands.

Josselin went back to work, trying not to let Meara's bustling behind the counter distract him. But it wasn't the noise, it was Meara himself. The other man had a grace to him when he was working, a smoothness to his motions Josselin didn't always get to see when Meara brought his order to the table. Meara's jerky awkwardness behind the register turned into a kind of surety Josselin had rarely seen anywhere, in Meara or not.

He smiled and took a sip of his blackeye. Super strong and super sweet and perfect. He went back to his laptop, but his eyes kept wandering over to Meara and his work, again, and again, and again.

Even though Meara would be taking the bus home, since Danny was only leaving early, his partner offered him a ride there, at least. Meara gladly took it.

So they arrived at the same time to a small restaurant that looked like it seated maybe twenty at maximum capacity, with two large tables and a few small ones. Meara glanced around, taking in the décor -- paintings by local artists on one wall, sketches from patrons on napkins and receipts and scrap paper on another. The daily sides were written in pink and green on a chalkboard behind the cash register, and a small gap in the wall turned in sharply to what Meara assumed was a kitchen. A woman was behind the counter, keeping an eye on the door while she frosted a cake.

Her eyes darted up when the doorbell rang and she grinned.

"Have a seat anywhere." She leaned back into the doorway behind her and called, "Addie, you've got customers!"

"We're actually meeting someone --"

"Hi!"

Meara caught Josselin's bright blue eyes for just a moment before his darted up to the bridge of the other man's nose, where it was more comfortable.

"He's here," Meara grinned, thumbing in Josselin's direction. The woman nodded. "But take your time. We're here for a meeting as much as lunch, so we'll be here a while anyway."

The woman smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said. "We usually don't get customers this early and we're a little behind on the morning's prep. Thanks for understanding."