A couple of hours later, Brenna cleaned up the last of the mess from her preparations for the next day’s menu. She remembered the envelope and took it down from the shelf where she stashed it. She opened it to find a typed note.
Assuming it was from Brock, she smiled as she read the brief message:
I’ve got a surprise for you. Meet me out on the patio at five.
Brock had written her a few little notes during the course of their courtship so she was surprised to see the note and envelope weren’t handwritten. She absently wondered where he’d found a typewriter to use. Perhaps it was among the antiques he inherited from his grandfather.
Brenna stared at the engagement ring on her finger, her heart going soft at thoughts of her charming fiancé. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she noted the afternoon had sped by. She wouldn’t have time to run home and change before five if she wanted to get a few more things done at the bistro.
Resigned to wearing her chef uniform when Brock came, she went to the computer she kept on a small desk in the pantry area of the kitchen and placed her order for next week’s supplies, planned out specials for the following two weeks, and browsed through websites for a wedding gown. She and Brock both wanted to get married as soon as possible, so they’d decided on the second Saturday in July, just a few weeks away.
Without time to make elaborate plans, Brenna wanted a simple outdoor ceremony. It seemed perfectly fitting for them to exchange their vows right where he proposed, among the roses at The Oregon Gardens. Their close family and friends would join them for an intimate afternoon wedding.
The pastor of their church agreed to perform the ceremony. Mike and Levi would stand up with Brock while Kat and Avery served as Brenna’s maid of honor and bridesmaid.
Avery was in charge of the flowers, Letty would oversee decorations, and Brenna planned to bake her own cake.
She just needed to find a dress. A variety caught her eye online. She printed out the pages of her favorites and slipped them into a folder she’d started of wedding ideas. Avery and her mom promised to go with her to Portland the following Monday to find a dress. Kat vowed to take the day off work and meet them, so it promised to be a fun-filled shopping adventure.
Absorbed in dress hunting, Brenna looked at the clock, surprised to see it was a few minutes past five. She turned off the computer, made sure all her equipment was turned off then walked through her mom’s part of the store to the back patio.
Expecting to see Brock, she was surprised to find a single red rose in a vase on one of the patio tables. A small gift bag and another envelope with her name typed along the front sat beside the vase.
Brenna opened the envelope to find another typed note:
Put this on and wait for me.
She opened the gift bag and pulled out a sleep mask, the kind that blocked all light. The idea of being blindfolded didn’t appeal to her in the least, but she didn’t want to spoil whatever Brock had planned. Puzzled at the odd request, she sat down at the table, sniffed the rose then slipped on the mask.
Once it blocked her vision, she sat back in the chair, breathed deeply of the summer air, and waited to catch a hint of Brock’s enticing scent. Instead, all she smelled were the flowers that bloomed in the patio pots around her.
Brenna didn’t have long to wait before she felt a hand on her arm, urging her to her feet.
“Hey, Brock, what’s all this?” she asked, turning to give him a hug. Instead, of connecting with his solid body, she felt a hand on her elbow, guiding her along the patio toward the side of the building. From the lack of sunshine giving warmth, she knew they were in the alley that led to the front of the store.
“Surprise.” She heard a whispered voice that sounded raspy, unlike Brock’s.
“Are you okay? You sound like you’ve got a sore throat.”
“Fine.” A hand patted her arm reassuringly.
“Where are we going?” Brenna asked as she was directed to step off the curb. Reaching out, her hand brushed the roof of a car.
“Surprise,” the voice said again. “Keys?”
“Oh, you need my keys? We’re taking my car?”
“Yes.”
Brenna pulled her keys from her pants pocket and held them out. Gloved fingers brushed her hand as the keys were lifted from her palm.
“Why are you wearing gloves?” Brenna asked. Brock always took off his work gloves to drive because he didn’t want his steering wheel to get all dirty.
“Surprise,” the voice whispered.
Brenna heard the car door open and found herself helped inside. The gloved hand directed her fingers to the seatbelt and she buckled it.
Brock had never asked to take her car anywhere. She drove sometimes, but most often they went in his truck. It was odd that he wanted to drive her car today. He certainly acted strange, and not in a fun surprise kind of way, either.
As the car backed out of her parking space and pulled into traffic, Brenna tried to relax, deciding to sit quietly if Brock wasn’t in the mood to talk.
She took a deep breath, anticipating a whiff of Brock’s scent. Even after a day on the job, he still smelled like cedar, musk, and virile man.
The odor she inhaled immediately sent alarm bells clanging in her head.
Will.
All she could smell was a scent that made her think of the heavy, overpowering cologne Will always favored.
Pretending to sneeze, Brenna took a quick peek from beneath her mask to see that Will sat in the car beside her, not Brock.
Panic threatened to choke the air from her lungs, but she forced herself to remain calm. She began chatting about her day at the bistro, hoping to keep him distracted as she mentally followed their route through town. In a few more blocks, they’d be at a stop light. If the light was red, she may have a chance to hop out of the car and make a run for it.
While keeping up the one-sided conversation, she forced her body to remain relaxed. She tried to gauge how far they’d traveled. Quickly deciding the light must have been green, the car continued heading straight. If Will continued on this course, he’d come to a stop sign in about half a mile and Brenna planned to hit the ground running.
Not wanting to contemplate what Will had planned, Brenna liked to think he wouldn’t actually hurt her. For the most part, he’d been gentle with her, so she hoped that would work in her favor. She’d certainly find out when she took the opportunity to escape. Sending up a prayer for help, Brenna waited for the car to stop moving, silently sliding her hand to the handle of her door.
Brock sat at the stoplight, impatiently waiting for it to turn green. He was in a hurry to get home and shower before going to the Smith’s for dinner. They were all going to work on finalizing wedding plans that evening.
It was hard to believe that in less than two weeks, Brenna would officially be his wife. He recalled the first time he saw her, looking so sweet yet impatient at the coffee shop. At the time, he had no idea the freckle-nosed woman with a love for Chai lattes would become his bride.
Brock thought of all the decisions they made in the past few weeks as they selected everything from wedding invitations to the towels for the bathroom.
Remembering one discussion they had about the proper way toilet paper should hang made Brock grin as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He could care less which direction it rolled, but disagreeing with Brenna was so much fun — especially the making up part after the playful arguing.
The grin slid from Brock’s face like ice cream left too long in the sun as he watched Brenna’s car pass through the intersection. Brenna sat in the passenger seat with a blindfold over her eyes while that sociopath Will drove her car.
Fear wrapped icy fingers around his heart and he regretted not being more forceful with Brenna about Will having mental problems. He should have made sure Will understood Brenna was not his for the taking. He should have been more insistent that she get a restraining order against the crazed psycho.
Quickl
y dialing 9-1-1, Brock relayed what information he knew then gunned his pickup as soon as the light turned green. He whipped around the corner and raced after the car. If Will hurt even one hair on Brenna’s precious head, he would regret ever being born.
He wondered how Will had got her in the car, acquired her keys, and put a mask on her face. Rage unlike anything he’d ever known filled him as questions raced through his head. He wasn’t a violent man, but he would rip Will into pieces if any harm had befallen Brenna.
Brock drove around a curve and slammed on the brakes.
Brenna sprinted down the street with Will close behind her, screaming her name over and over. He jumped out of his truck, opened his arms, and braced himself as Brenna ran right into them, her eyes wide in fear.
Frantic to keep her safe, he set her behind him. Will approached him with a glazed look in his eyes. When he tried to reach for Brenna, Brock raised his fist and popped Will once hard in the face, knocking him to the ground. While he was down, Brock rolled Will over and pulled his arms behind his back, pinning him to the asphalt with his knee until the police arrived.
Will yelled and sobbed that he just wanted to talk to Brenna, to convince her that she really loved him. Despite the duct tape, rope and a hunting knife in his backpack, he denied planning to hurt her.
Brenna waited in Brock’s pickup, tears streaming down her face, trembling with the fear of what might have happened if Brock hadn’t miraculously arrived when he did.
Once the police handcuffed Will and led him away, Brenna relayed what had transpired. She told Brock she realized right after she got into the car that it was Will and started thinking of a way to escape. When Will pulled up at the stop sign, she jumped out of the car, yanking the mask off as she ran.
“You came to my rescue, again.” Brenna leaned into the safety and solid security of Brock. She didn’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t been there and didn’t want to think about it.
“I told you, Brenna, I’ll always, always be here for you.” Brock kissed the top of her head, grateful that his coffee girl was fine. The enormity of what Will could have done to Brenna made him feel weak-kneed, so he turned his thoughts to the fact that he got there in time. Will would get the help he needed, and Brenna was safe in his arms, right where he always wanted her to be.
Epilogue
Three Years Later
“Look, Brock, the roses are blooming.” Brenna pointed to the soft yellow blooms that arched over the front sidewalk as she and Brock strolled down the front porch steps. She inhaled a deep breath and smiled. “Can you smell them?”
“Yes, I can.” Brock thought the smell of the roses didn’t hold a candle to the fresh, sweet scent of his wife. Her fragrance, her very essence, would forever make him think of spring and sunshine.
The roses she admired that sunny morning were the same variety as the ones she favored in the rose garden the day Brock proposed. As a wedding gift, he’d tracked down four rose bushes and carefully planted them, two on each side of the arbor. This summer was the first one that the canes arched all the way to the top of the arbor and delicate, fragrant blooms greeted their guests at the front gate.
Mutt ran around them barking as they strolled across the lawn and Brock plucked a blossom, handing it to Brenna.
She smiled and held it up to her nose, looking over it at him with big blue eyes that still made his heart pound anytime he gazed into their bright depths filled with warmth and love.
He rested his hand on her rounded belly and smiled, thinking about the baby who would join their family in a few months. Avery and Greg’s little girl, Megan, was a spirited handful they all spoiled and loved while her brother, Kevin, was too little at only a few weeks old to get into any trouble.
As he stood in the yard with the dog bounding around their feet, the worrisome widows waving from down the street, and his hand bouncing from the kicks of their unborn child, Brock experienced a feeling of contentment that filled him with an unimaginable joy.
His thoughts turned to the dream that used to haunt his nights up until the day he married Brenna. It came to him clearly now and he realized for the first time the woman in the dream had been Brenna all along. With perfect clarity, he suddenly knew it had been Brenna standing beside him. Her beloved face was the one he gazed into with such rapture in the dream.
“It’s you,” he said, staring at Brenna with a look of surprise. “It’s always been you, coffee girl.”
She glanced at him with an indulgent grin. “Of course it’s me. How many other pregnant women do you stand with in the front yard, waving to our nosy neighbors? Have you been out in the heat too long today? Maybe we better go inside for a while.”
Brock laughed and engulfed her in a hug. “I never told you this, but I used to have this dream. I was standing in a yard, this yard, with a mangy mutt running around barking and a beautiful woman in my arms. I’d reach down, put my hand on her belly, and feel this amazing sense of love as our baby kicked my fingers. I could never see the woman in my dreams, but I just realized it was you all along. This moment was what I always saw in my dream. I know it sounds crazy.”
“Not crazy at all.” Brenna kissed her husband before taking his hand and leading him toward the house. “I used to have my own dream of a broad-shouldered, dark-haired man who would love me unconditionally, passionately. He smelled of cedar, musk and coffee, and I could feel the strength of his arms around me. One day, I was standing right over there with you, when I …”
Banana Bread
Once in a blue moon, when I have a bunch of overripe bananas, I get inspired to bake banana bread. Captain Cavedweller gets excited when this happens and will eat half the loaf, still warm from the oven, slathered in butter, if I let him. (Have you ever tried stopping a hungry man from eating warm bread? Not an easy task, I assure you!) This recipe isn’t hard to make and always turns out well.
Banana Bread
1 3/4 cup flour
2/3 cup sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1 cup mashed ripe bananas
1/3 cup butter or shortening
2 tbsp. milk
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 eggs
1/2 cup nuts
1 tbsp. cinnamon
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Mix one cup flour with sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Mash two to three ripe bananas (or overripe bananas, the riper the banana the stronger the flavor) to make one cup. Add banana, butter, vanilla and milk to dry ingredients. Mix on low until blended then beat on high for two minutes. Add eggs and remaining flour, beat until blended. Fold in cinnamon and nuts. Bake 55-60 minutes or until golden brown and starting to pull away from the edges of the pan. Let cool, turn out of the pan, slice and enjoy!
Thank you for reading The Coffee Girl. Now that you’ve finished the book, won’t you please consider writing a review?
I would truly appreciate it.
If you enjoyed the hint of sizzle taking place between Kat and Levi, don’t miss out on their story… coming autumn 2015! Look for The Christmas Crusade in a special holiday anthology!
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Shanna’s Newsletter
The Christmas Crusade (Sequel to The Coffee Girl) — Two old flames reignite with a little holiday magic.
Levi Clarke is on a crusade to create a merry Christmas for the patrons of Center for Hope community center. He’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen, even it means seeking a sponsorship from Kat Kingsley, the woman too stubborn to realize she’s still in love with him.
Turn the page for an exclusive preview…
Chapter One
“Granddad, this better be a joke.” Kathleen Kingsley held her cell phone to her ear with her shoulder while slipping her credit card back into her wallet and dropping it inside her oversized bag. A subtle nod of h
er head acknowledged her thanks to the barista at the coffee shop she frequented six days a week. Rushed, she picked up her double shot espresso and moved away from the counter.
Kat dropped the lid from the cup in the trashcan and took a sip of her drink. She pushed open the door, stepping outside into the crisp autumn air. Portland in the fall was spectacular, especially on a day when the typical rains that drizzled down on her favorite Oregon city failed to appear.
“I assure you, dear girl, it is far too early in the day for joking. This sponsorship meeting completely slipped my mind. I meant to tell you about it earlier. It is essential for you to be there.” Lewis Kingsley cleared his throat. Kat pictured him sitting at his pristine desk with the day’s projects stacked in a neat pile to his left while his favorite pen, a gift from her grandmother, rested at a precise forty-five degree angle to his right.
“Fine. I’ll take care of it.” Kat barely managed to hold back a sigh. “Tell me again where I need to be and what time.”
“Our executive conference room, in thirteen minutes. You best put some hustle in it, Kat. I’ll have Molly...”
The cell phone’s battery chose that moment die. Kat stared at it in frustrated annoyance.
For a moment, she considered tossing it down on the sidewalk and stomping it into tiny pieces. Nothing had gone right all morning.
First, the alarm failed to go off. After scurrying out of bed, she’d jumped into the shower and shrieked as cold water pelted her skin. The landlord promised to fix the problem with the hot water heater. Obviously, he hadn’t accomplished the task.
Despite pounding it multiple times on the bathroom counter, her flat iron refused to splutter to life, so her hair dried into thick waves instead of the sleek, straight locks she preferred.
Hungry and harried, the only thing she could find to eat for breakfast in her bare cupboards was a stale chocolate chip cookie.
The Coffee Girl Page 21
