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eyes like that distinction wasn’t supposed to matter, but it kind of did to me, and the heaviness of his words suggested it wasn’t exactly a small deal to him either.
    “Sorry.”
    “It’s . . . it is what it is. My grief counselor says I should start small. Ask you out for coffee—”
    I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, big peals that helped erode my nervous energy.
    He smacked his head. “Heck. I rehearsed what I’d say all the way over here. All the good it did me. Obviously going for coffee would be completely stupid—”
    “Hey, just because I sell the stuff doesn’t mean I can’t drink it recreationally.” I reached across the counter and touched the sleeve of his crisp dress shirt. Man, I loved him in dress clothes. Blood rushed south and I had all sorts of ideas that had nothing to do with “starting small.” I told my overeager dick to behave.
    “Yeah. So maybe we could . . . uh . . .” He inhaled sharply.
    “Brunch? Is that small enough? My friend Chris—ex-boss, actually—his place does a vegan brunch buffet on the weekends. Still coffee, but with scrambled tofu.”
    “That is so Portland.” He laughed. “I think that might work.”
    “It’s a date.” I smiled up at him. He smiled back, revealing his perfect white teeth. I wanted to feel them sinking into my shoulder.... Oh hell. Behaving was going to be a tall order.
    “Yeah.” He looked both terrified and excited, not unlike how I was feeling. “It’s a date.”
    “It’s on the house,” I said as I handed him his drink. After all, he wasn’t only a customer anymore. I could take on the risk of giving away more than I should. He’d be worth it.

August: Turtle Mocha

Chapter 4
    I officially hated TriMet. Thanks to stupid construction on MLK, I was over twenty minutes late for my Sunday brunch with David. Narrowed lanes and slow drivers were screwing with what should have been the best day of my week. I drummed my fingers on the cool glass of the bus window.
    I didn’t think he’d leave; we’d been doing this too many weeks for him to worry I’d stand him up. But he hadn’t responded to my text about the bus being late. Little things like delays made David twitchy. The last thing I wanted was David uncomfortable; I had big plans for this week’s date.
    Finally, the bus pulled up to the stop near People’s Coffee. As I’d feared, the line stretched past the entry of the narrow brick storefront. David and I liked to get there early enough to beat the worst of the brunch rush. For six Sundays now this had been our thing, and my heart did a happy little thump as I spotted him.
    He was hanging to the side of the line like he couldn’t quite decide whether he wanted to join the queue or not. I waved, but David was on his phone and didn’t look up. He was scowling, his phone jammed between his shoulder and his ear, but the sight of him still made my chest lighten.
    His hair was in a growing-out phase, and the August breeze made the fluff dance. He was way overdressed for brunch on Alberta, but I secretly loved him in preppy stuff like today’s baby blue short-sleeve dress shirt. I didn’t like it on him so much as I wanted to unbutton it with my teeth, slide my hands against his warm skin. I wanted—
    “Hi, you!” David finally spotted me and waved me over. Giving me an awkward one-armed hug, he wrapped up his phone call with an “I’ll call you later” and a heavy sigh.
    “Everything okay?” I stepped closer to encourage him not to drop his arm.
    “Sure.” His eyes followed the traffic on Alberta, where cars jockeyed for the few remaining parking spots. “Just my sister. Usual family drama. And she’s coming next week.”
    “Your sister’s coming?”
    “Her biannual trek.” David rolled his eyes. “She says it’s for back-to-school shopping, but really it’s to check up on me. Make sure I haven’t withered away. Food in the fridge. Typical bossy big sister.” Affection underscored his