I gasped as coffee sprayed everywhere, including the front of my shirt, but I didn’t have time to mourn the lost caffeine hit before Mayor Biscuit lunged for the runaway cat.
My mouth dropped open in surprise as he hit the counter, surprisingly agile for a dog with such short legs. The two animals skidded across the counter as Rosie shrieked.
“Mayor Biscuit! Get down from therethis instance!”
The girls at the table jumped to their feet as Cleopatra jumped off the counter in a trail of coffee-colored footprints, racing straight toward them with Mayor Biscuit on her heels.
“Will youkindlyget your dog under control?!” Lyle shouted.
“My dog? Your cat was the one who started it, as always.”
The two girls had flattened themselves against the wall in advance of the incoming invasion, and Cleopatra jumped onto their table with all the grace of a lion, except this cat’s prey wasn’t a gazelle but the lemon-lavender cookie sitting innocently on one of the plates.
He grabbed it in his mouth with barely a pause and leapt off the table, Mayor Biscuit still on his heels.
“Mayor Biscuit!” Rosie started across the room, obviously planning to get the situation in hand.
But the dog grabbed the pistachio muffin off the remaining plate on the table, knocked over a half-full coffee mug — a remnant of the two girls’ catch-up session — and dove off the table without a glance toward his hysterical owner.
I swiveled my head toward the door as the bell dinged.
Noah walked in, then froze at the sight of the coffee shop. “Who started it this time?”
Rosie pointed at Cleopatra and said, “That darned cat, as always!” as Lyle pointed at Mayor Biscuit. “That… thatbeast!”
I followed their pointed fingers to the corner of the shop where Cleopatra nibbled gracefully on her cookie, Mayor Biscuit devouring the pistachio muffin a few feet away.
I raised my eyebrows. “Ever think they might actually be in on this together?”
Lyle sighed and dropped to the floor to pick up his flyers. I bent to help him, catching words and phrases as I gathered them into a stack.
… Finch Farm is a cornerstone of Blackwell Hollow.
The Hearthstone community will price out locals…
… infrastructure is not equipped…
When all the flyers had been picked up, I straightened and realized Noah was standing next to me.
I handed the flyers to Lyle.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
Lyle slid the flyers into his leather portfolio, set it in the bottom of the stroller, and scooped Cleopatra off the floor. He had her back in the stroller and was on his way out of the shop in less than thirty seconds.
“I hope to see you at my rally,” he called breezily over his shoulder to Rosie.
“I hope to seeyouatmine,” she called back.
Noah looked down at me and I practically fell into his green eyes. His tan set off his short blond hair and pronounced jaw, and I caught a whiff of fresh-cut grass and potting soil that turned me on way more than it should have.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I wanted a coffee.”
He looked down at my pink shirt and I was suddenly hyper-aware that it was tight, the V-neck plunging. “Looks like you got it.”