Willow sat in The Purple Pig office, doing up the week’s order for baking supplies. She really should have done it last night, but with her date and all … She paused, her pencil hovering over the order form. She loved the café. She doubted she would ever put in less than a forty-hour week. But she’d been sneaking far more hours here and there for personal time, and she had two choices. She either had to stop doing that, or she had to reassess the café’s manpower requirements.
The idea of making Emily a managing partner made a lot of sense. It would mean training someone new as regular staff; maybe two people. Steven would be starting school again in September, and even though he commuted, his availability would take a serious hit.
And to hire new staff, she needed to look at profitability and what she could possibly sustain. The landlord had given her three free months for the additional square footage for the food bank, but she had nine more months of the contract that she was on the hook for. She had to decide what she was going to do with that space.
Maybe she should seriously look at expansion. Fall was busy, too, and then there was a brief slowdown before ski season picked up again.
But first, she had to talk to Emily. The most important thing was to make sure the current arrangement was as strong as possible.
After the lunch rush, she grabbed a cup of tea and then asked Em to join her in the office. She didn’t beat around the bush. “Emily, you’ve been carrying extra weight around here all summer, and I think it’s time you had a proper title. Would you be interested in becoming the café manager, with the possibility of leading into partnership? I’d still be here, but I’d delegate more of the responsibilities to you. Things like weekly scheduling, deposits, that kind of stuff. I can’t afford to give you a huge raise, but there’ll be something. I trust you to look after The Pig.”
Emily’s eyes lit. “I’d love that! I haven’t minded the extra hours, or the responsibility, but having something a little more formalized would be great.”
“I’ve noticed you’re very organized, so of course you’d like to have things official and laid out in writing. I probably should have done it before now. So that’s a yes?”
“Yes. It does mean we’re going to need some new staff, though. Steven’s cutting his hours soon and while we’ve still got Mary and Tina, I think we need another solid day person. At least one. We might be able to make do with a few part-time high school students.”
“I agree.” They took a few minutes to go over staffing issues and then Willow sat back with a satisfied sigh.
Emily grinned at her. “You can tell I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”
Willow nodded. “I’ll draft up a want ad and post it in the weekly paper, plus the Chamber website. Oaklee is in charge of that, I think. And Em—I want you to sit in on the interviews.”
“If that’s what you want, of course.” Emily smiled. “Thanks, Willow.
“Thank you, Em.”
Emily sipped at the coffee she’d brought in with her. “So does this mean you’re going to have a more active social life? Rumor has it you’ve been out with Ethan Gallagher.”
Willow knew she was blushing; she could feel the heat in her face. “We’ve gone out a few times, but that’s all. I just think it’s time I paced myself a little better. Plus, if we decide to grow or do something with the space next door, I need to delegate more.”
“Nice dodge, but that’s okay. I know you’re a private person.” Emily grinned at her. “Just so you know, though, Ethan Gallagher is one hot DILF.”
“Oh my—” Willow choked on a laugh, “DILF?”
“Dad I’d like to … you know.”
“I know! I know! Just … God. I can’t even right now.” And she burst out laughing. What else could she do? It wasn’t as if she disagreed.
They ended the meeting and Willow spent an hour in the kitchen, doing prep for lunchtime sandwiches and snacks. Traffic was busy, particularly as the weather was gorgeous and people were out enjoying the last of the summer vacation days with their families.
Once the rush was over, she organized the kitchen, baked enough muffins and cookies to replenish the front display, did supper prep, and then grabbed a sandwich for herself and disappeared into the office to draft a want ad and finish the weekly order. When it was sent, she checked her watch. Seven. Where had the day gone? She’d hardly had time to think about Ethan and try to make sense of what had happened last night. Or where they went from here.
At eight she turned over the CLOSED sign and locked the door, then everyone chipped in to make sure the floors were mopped, tables wiped, napkins and sugar dispensers filled, and the café readied for the next day. Willow rang off the cash and ran the reports, then locked everything in the safe for the next deposit.
Eight thirty. She sighed, said good night to the staff and headed upstairs. Her stomach felt uneasy and a strange sort of tension settled between her shoulder blades. She hadn’t thought of Ethan much today, but now that the café was closed and she was all alone, she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d been thinking since this morning.
She needed some tea and deep breathing and a slow, calming practice to quiet her mind.
She brewed a cup of jasmine tea, letting the flowery scent envelop her. She changed into her favorite yoga leggings—pale pink ones—and a top in light blue. The airy colors made her feel lighter, and once her tea was gone she sat on her mat, folded her legs, closed her eyes, and began to center herself with a So Hum meditation.
Sooooo … Deep inhale, filling her stomach, diaphragm, lungs.
Hummmm … A long, slow exhale, emptying fully, relaxing her shoulders, envisioning the tension leaving through her toes and fingers. Over and over, with nothing but the sound of her breath, the connection with her body and spirit. So hum … I am … and the quiet peace and strength that came from the simple mantra.
She opened her eyes slowly. Then she stood, anchored her feet in the center of her mat, took a long inhale, and stretched upward into a simple Standing Mountain pose.
A knock sounded at the door.
She exhaled and lowered her arms, while her heart abandoned its early calm and peace and started up a rapid tattoo of anticipation. Was it Ethan? She had said that tonight was yoga night … but she’d never really thought he’d show up so soon.
She padded over to the door, her bare feet soundless on the hardwood. When she opened it, there he stood, dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a white T-shirt with some sort of logo on the front in green. His clean, slightly spicy scent enveloped her—he’d just showered. In one hand he held a small bouquet of flowers.
“Ethan,” she said breathlessly. So much for playing it cool, she realized. That breathy sound communicated exactly how she was feeling right now, seeing him again.
“For you. I didn’t think you were the hothouse type. Laurel let me raid the garden.”
“They’re lovely. Thank you, Ethan. Come on in.”
He stepped inside while she took the flowers to the kitchen and found a pretty blue bottle to put them in. There was one stalk of purple-blue delphinium, then several daisies, black-eyed Susans, colorful asters, and a few deep pink coneflowers. Nothing exotic, but she loved them because Ethan understood she preferred a simple, colorful bouquet over something more extravagant and showy.
She took them to the living area and set them on the end table by the futon. “These are so pretty, Ethan, thank you.”
He’d taken off his sandals and left them by the door. When she turned to speak to him, she couldn’t help but look down at his feet. There was something personal about bare feet. She wasn’t sure if it was humbling, or if it was a lack of artifice, but it was hard for a person to be something they weren’t when they were barefoot.
And she was sure if she tried to articulate that, Ethan would look at her like she had nine heads.
“You’re welcome.”
She faced him, her throat tight with nerves. “You came back.”
“You didn’t think I would?”
“I didn’t know.” Heat crept into her cheeks. “I didn’t want to take anything for granted. I wondered if you’d freak out, once what happened sank in.”
His eyes searched hers. “Did you freak out, Willow? Should I not have come?”
The lump got bigger, and she shook her head. “I’m glad you did. I … oh, damn.” She took three big steps and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, lifted her face to his and kissed him.
He kissed her back, openly, fully. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer to his body. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered harshly, as they took much-needed breaths. “I was afraid you’d want to back off. And all I could think about all day was coming back here. Seeing you again.”
Things were happening so fast. Willow’s body was clamoring for one thing while her head—and her heart—cautioned her against moving too quickly. She gasped as he dragged his teeth along the tendon of her neck, but then pushed out of his arms just a bit. She needed space to think.
“We need to slow down,” she said, her breath coming quickly. “You just got in the door, for heaven’s sake.”
His chest rose and fell with labored breaths. “It’s a bit scary, isn’t it? How … explosive this is?”
She nodded. “I feel like a damned horny teenager.” And that was exactly who she couldn’t afford to be. She stepped away and tried to clear her head. “Can I get you something to drink? Lemonade? Tea?”
“Lemonade would be great. It’s a bit hot for tea.”
She went to the kitchen and took out the bottle of lemon juice, then the organic sugar and a small pitcher to mix it in. He came into the kitchen; she could sense him behind her even though he wasn’t crowding her space.
“You don’t have to make it from scratch,” he said. “I would have been fine with water.”
She turned to face him and smiled, thankful to have something to do because her hands were itching to touch him again. “I make it all the time. Seriously, it only takes a minute. Besides, it’s not like I’m squeezing the lemons or anything.”
And if her hand shook as she stirred, she pretended not to notice. He didn’t need to know how nervous she was.
The drink was slightly sweet, with a bit of tart that stung the tastebuds at the back of her tongue. The only place to really sit was on the futon or in the hanging chair. The chair wasn’t built for two adults, so that left either the futon or the floor. Willow chose the floor, sitting on her bottom with her elbows resting lightly on her knees.
“You don’t want to sit up here?” Ethan leaned back on the futon.
She smiled up at him. “Is it weird to say I’m more comfortable here? Besides, now I get to look at you.”
“Good point.” He took a drink of lemonade. “I interrupted your yoga, didn’t I?”
“Not really.”
“You’ve got the gear on. You look cute, by the way. I like the leggings. They make your ass look good.”
Heat rushed to her face.
“Your hair, too. I like the braid. It’s weird.”
Willow wasn’t used to all the compliments. “It’s a Dutch braid. You do it from under rather than over.”
“I don’t understand any of that, but okay.”
She laughed. Drank. Licked her lips.
He crossed his legs, balancing his right ankle on his left knee. “So how was your day?” he asked.
It should have been a bit awkward. There was subtext, after all. How was your day was also how was your day after last night and did anyone say anything to you or even did you tell anyone what happened. But now that the initial welcome was over, it wasn’t awkward at all. That was the thing with Ethan. It felt so comfortable, even when they didn’t see eye to eye. She realized that since they’d “met” at Hannah’s birthday dinner, they had always been honest. Tactful, maybe, but honest just the same. Good and bad.
And honesty was only a step away from trust. It frightened her but also excited her that she might actually be ready to trust someone.
“I took your advice,” she admitted, finishing her glass of lemonade. Ethan leaned over with the pitcher and topped her glass. “I asked Emily about managing the café and she said yes. We talked about staffing and I did up a want ad that I’m going to post in the paper and through the town website. I’m going to need more staff, especially now that school’s going in soon and I’m losing one of my full-timers.”
“Good for you.”
“I like having me time, I discovered. And you know, someday I might want to take a vacation. If I do, I need to leave the café in someone’s hands.”
“I know what you mean. As much as I’ve hated being off work, in some ways it’s been nice. I’ve been able to spend more time with the boys over the summer. Connor’s starting school after Labor Day and Ronan’ll be back in pre-school. It changes.”
“You go back soon?” A little bit of worry slid through her veins. Sure, he’d only broken his arm this time, but he did have a potentially dangerous job.
“Once the boys are back in, I’m back on the roster. Right now I’m working on strengthening my arm and getting some muscle and flexibility back.”
Willow lifted an eyebrow. “Yoga can help with that. Just sayin’.”
He grinned. “So show me,” he said easily. “Show me some yoga.”
She laughed. “That’s not exactly how it works, you know. It’s not just a ‘do this’ and then ‘bend like this’ thing. It’s a philosophy. A way of life. There are physical and spiritual parts that complement each other.” She met his gaze. “Honestly, one of the things I miss most about where I used to live is that there’s no real studio in Darling. The rec center has someone teach a couple of classes each week, but it’s not the same.”
“Spiritual, huh?”
She smiled softly. “I know. You think it’s hippy and weird. All I can say is, yoga taught me to accept myself and to stop beating myself up over not being perfect. I started to look for happiness within me instead of being desperate for someone else’s approval. It saved me, Ethan.”
“And I’m glad. Not sure it’s my kind of thing, but I’m glad.”
She laughed. “I could make you a believer.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“Is that a challenge?” she said lightly with a smile. Lord, she loved bantering with him. It lit her up like very little had in a long, long time.
“I’ll let you try, but on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“You show me how bendy you really are. What’s the hardest move you’ve got?”
There were several, some that looked harder than they were, others that looked simple but were deceptively difficult. But she knew what he was getting at. Still, she frowned a bit.
“You know this isn’t what yoga’s about, right? It’s not about being bendy or better than anyone else. That’s the exact opposite of the heart of it.”
“So you won’t show me?”
She pondered. “I’ll show you, if you agree to let me lead you through a mini practice.”
“Deal. But I might need more lemonade to loosen me up. I’m used to pumping weights and going for a run. I’m not sure I’m the meditative type.”
She couldn’t help it; she laughed again. It was the mischievous look in his eyes and the slight quirk to his lips like he was trying not to smile but not quite succeeding. “Okay. But I’m only going to show you a couple of poses. Then I’ll take you through a few moves. Break you in gently.”
He got up from the futon, grabbed the nearly-empty pitcher, and poured them each a smidgen more. “Okay. Bottoms up.”
He held out the glass in a toast. She clinked her rim against his, smiled, and said, “To Downward Facing Dog.”
“What?”
“You’ll see,” she answered, and they both drank.