“Hey, sweetheart. One last thing.”

  Justin turned, braced for anger and determined to ignore the many undignified things Adam’s joking endearment did to his insides.

  Instead, Adam held out a fifty expectantly. He waited three seconds too long for it not to be awkward before he stuffed the bill into the edge of Justin’s white foam glove. “Here. Now, seriously, don’t come back. Whatever they’re paying you, it’s not worth it.”

  The rocks in Justin’s belly evaporated in an instant. He laughed as he edged his way out the door, careful to avoid further damage. “Aw, you know you’d miss me.”

  Adam followed him and leaned one arm against the top of the doorframe far to casually to be meant to send Justin’s pulse into overtime. “You do understand that you’re the bane of my existence, right?”

  Justin needed to leave, and more importantly, he needed to stop fantasizing about tossing the costume and draping himself beneath the long shadow of Adam’s body. “I’ve never been called a bane before. I kinda like it. Sounds glamorous.”

  Adam’s answering laugh was deep and husky and did very unprofessional things to Justin’s nervous system. “Shut up.”

  Waving as best he could with his foam hand, Justin waddled past the group of staring, whispering office workers gathered in the hallway. “Bye, Adam. Have a good life.”

  “Get a better job!”

  Justin couldn’t help but giggle as Adam shut the door.

  He whistled the rest of the song all the way to the elevators, trailing off as he well and truly fucked up the costume trying to fit inside. All in all, though, not a bad day.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much with anybody. He was looking forward to seeing Adam when he came in for his coffee in the morning. Maybe they could pick up where they left off, trade a couple good-natured barbs. Justin couldn’t let himself get too involved, but he could really use a friend.

  Except, that was never going to happen because Adam had no idea who Justin even was. He was nothing more than a barista to him, a pleasant but unnecessary convenience.

  Just like everybody else Justin had ever met.

  *

  IT WAS OBVIOUS, in a fairly adorable way, that Adam was working up the nerve to approach Justin at the counter.

  He’d come into the coffee shop every morning all week at 7:15 on the dot and ordered the exact same cup of coffee. And every morning, he’d muttered a few more words, smiling at Justin for a fraction of a second longer. Even mentioned the weather once or twice.

  But today, he was clearly working himself up to something new. It was 7:30, and he’d been pacing back and forth for over ten minutes, perusing the pastry counter and the menu and glancing at Justin every .5 seconds. Tugging at his collar as if it was ninety-five degrees in there instead of a pleasant seventy-two.

  It was cute. It would’ve charmed the pants off Justin if he’d been in the market for charming. Or for pants removal. Which he definitely, vociferously wasn’t.

  He couldn’t be. Not even for the most adorably conspicuous, lumberjack-shaped man he’d ever met.

  Despite himself, he finally caught Adam’s eye and winked. Adam knocked over a metal cup of paper straws and righted it with a curse before he finally approached the counter, both hands shoved deep in his pockets.

  “You like coffee?” Adam winced as he said it, which only made Justin grin harder.

  Of all the opening lines. It was tragic. It was atrocious. It was just about the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to him.

  “Yeah, it’d be hard to work here if I didn’t.” Just because it was adorable, didn’t mean Justin had to take it easy on the poor guy. Everyone else in the shop could’ve vanished for all he cared or noticed. He was on the edge of his seat for whatever poorly planned, earnest thing Adam might say next.

  “Want to get a cup sometime? With me, I mean?” Adam rubbed the back of his neck hard as he glared down at the counter before returning his attention to Justin with an expression more suited to sucking lemons than laying down pickup lines. “Or, I guess not coffee, since you work here, but maybe something else? Pizza? Do people get pizza?”

  The thought of Justin going out for pizza in his car that now permanently smelled of pepperoni made Justin’s stomach turn. He tried to think of anything besides how very much he wanted to go out with Adam and how very bad of an idea that was.

  If he made a list of reasons for why it was a bad idea, he could probably unroll it out to the parking lot. Adam was a customer and a client, and he didn’t know it, but he sort of hated Justin and everything he was. At least, he did whenever Justin was in costume. Which he could never, ever find out about. Plus, for some very good reasons of his own, Justin wasn’t dating. And Adam was exactly the type of man who could break his resolve, if he tried. He better not try. Justin was running low on resolve.

  It looked as if Adam might combust if Justin didn’t answer him soon, so he finally took pity on him. After a swift check for his manager, Justin leaned over the counter and whipped off his visor. He might not have a lot going for him, but he knew guys liked his hair.

  “I could go for a muffin over at Leonelli’s bakery; you know it? Right down Main Street and around the corner. It’s in a pretty, old Victorian house with a wraparound porch.”

  Adam stared at Justin’s messy visor hair as if it was made of actual gold. Mission accomplished. “Yeah, okay, muffins. Muffins sound…good—” He winced again. “—nice. People like muffins.”

  This was, without a doubt, the worst and most awkward way anyone had ever asked Justin out, and he was thoroughly enjoying every second of it. There was something very real about Adam. Something painfully honest, and true.

  Something Justin had been missing in his life for a really long time. He nodded seriously as he replaced the visor on his head. “Yes, people do. I get a lunch break at noon. Wanna meet me there?”

  Customers were beginning to pile up behind Adam, and they both seemed to notice at the same time. Justin shot an apprehensive glance at his scowling manager as Adam leaned in as if to place an order.

  “Yes!” Adam stood back up to his full height, sheepishness crossing his expression as he stepped aside. “I mean, sounds good.”

  The elderly woman behind Adam was steaming as she waited, examining Justin as if he was a bug beneath her shoe. It was going to be a long shift.

  Justin gave Adam a very regrettable sloppy salute. “I’ll have that Americano right out for you, sir!”

  This time, when he handed the drink over, Adam allowed his fingers to curl entirely over Justin’s hand for a brief, heart-stopping moment. The electric buzz of the brief contact lingered for nearly an hour after he’d gone, disintegrating any chance of regret Justin ought to have.

  It didn’t really sink in that he could technically be construed to be lying until he began walking down the block to the bakery.

  Adam had no idea who Justin was.

  Well, he knew who he was, but only as Justin the coffee guy. Not Justin the singing telegram guy who made his life a living hell. It might be a little underhanded to allow the misconception to go on, but Justin didn’t exactly advertise his position with Season’s Greetings. It wasn’t a job he was particularly proud of. In fact, the only people who knew were his employers, a nice middle-aged couple named Paula and Earl. He didn’t even know who the other performers for the company were. Adam could be one for all he knew. If they made any costumes big enough.

  Was it ethically questionable to meet up with one of his telegram clients for muffins? Probably, but Adam wasn’t technically a client of Season’s Greetings. He was a recipient. Yes, okay, so he’d left a tip. A hefty tip. And he was more than technically a customer at the coffee shop, but Justin’s coworkers hooked up with customers all the time.

  Not that they were hooking up or anything. This was going to be a strictly friendly, casual, muffin date.

  Not a date. A meeting. A friendly muffin meeting.

  Because Justin didn’t go on dates anymore.

  Dates led to disaster, and heartbreak, and letters from collection agencies. Meetings and muffins were harmless, easy, nonthreatening. What harm could a muffin do?

  Maybe he shouldn’t ask that question when he couldn’t afford dental insurance.

  Besides, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to learn more about the mysterious Adam. Who was he, besides an IT office worker who liked coffee, and why was his secret admirer so determined? And so very clueless about what he’d like? Justin barely knew the man, but he could already give a whole list of reasons why he wouldn’t want a singing telegram.

  You’d think anyone paying attention would know that, and surely this person had been paying attention. Telegrams weren’t exactly cheap; most people saved them for big occasions. And Adam, for all his shyness, still commanded attention every time he entered a room. He was worth noticing, and anyone who noticed him would know he didn’t like to be singled out.

  Justin was honestly getting pretty annoyed with this secret admirer. They should be better at admiring and maybe save the grand gestures for somebody who wanted them. If they really cared about Adam, they’d be buying him coffee or going out for muffins or…

  Not that he intended to be someone who really cared about Adam. It wasn’t that deep. Adam was tall, cute, and had hands like a shovel, and he clearly thought Justin was pretty cute too. That was all there was to it. Mutual attraction happened every day. No feelings or further thought involved. Pure chemistry.

  Justin had failed chemistry. And trigonometry. And all the other classes that seemed to keep other people out of falling into a career dressing up as a candy heart and harassing office workers. Adam was probably amazing at math. Knew how to do taxes and stuff. Justin always used a service online and hoped for the best. He’d like to witness the horror on Adam’s face if he ever told him that.

  As he turned a corner, Leonelli’s bakery appeared, completely decked out for Valentine’s Day with heart-shaped lights wrapped around the porch columns and little paper cupids hung above the door. The window display held an arrangement of painstakingly decorated sugar cookies surrounded by vintage cards with lace edging. Sometimes, he liked to walk by the bakery just to take in the display of the week. It gave him a warm, homey feeling he usually only got around the holiday season. He couldn’t always afford a pastry, but there was something to be said for window shopping.

  Adam was already there, looming in the shadows around the side of the porch. Justin had never met someone who so frequently loomed before. It was adorable.

  He bounded up the steps, his apron and visor left behind as he braved the frigid February weather in his shirtsleeves. “This is the place! You’ve really never been here before? It’s a local legend.”

  Adam held the door open for him, and Justin ducked under his arm to walk inside, ignoring the butterflies that took flight in his belly as Adam followed after. “I only moved here a year ago, used to work at the main office up in Charlotte. Haven’t had much occasion to check out these little shops down Main Street.”

  Justin had only left Belleview for college, and then he’d let that idiot Garrison follow him back to his hometown. As much as he’d hated the relationship, he still loved the town. There was magic in these mountains.

  Every little shop down Main Street was run with love, most of them family businesses like the bakery. The sweet scent of sugar and cinnamon wrapped Justin up in a comforting embrace as he approached the counter. “If you only try one place, it’s gotta be Leonelli’s. Just wait till you taste this muffin; you’re in for a treat.”

  Adam reached for his pocket, but Justin whipped his wallet out first, beating him to it. He’d been saving money all week; he could afford a couple muffins. Probably.

  “Sounds like it. You come here a lot?” Adam frowned a little as he eyed Justin’s barren wallet, his fingers twitching again toward his own back pocket.

  Justin slapped his one and only remaining card down on the counter triumphantly. “When I can. Sometimes, I pick up lunch or something sweet after a shift. The pastries at Beans N’ Things are mostly mass-produced and frozen. Don’t tell anyone I told you that.”

  There was something about the way Adam watched him, something soft and open in his expression that threatened to tear Justin apart and stitch him back together all at the same time. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Guilt pierced through Justin like an icicle through the heart. Probably shouldn’t have brought up the topic of secrets. Not his greatest moment.

  The service was as charmingly derisive as usual. The little old lady behind the counter gave an annoyed huff as Justin placed their orders, but the muffins appeared in no time at all, perfectly warmed on a little doily-lined floral plate.

  Adam hung back, endearingly out of place in the cheerfully decorated bakery with his head to toe black, then followed Justin around the tiny antique tables like an enormous lost puppy.

  A puppy Justin couldn’t take in at the moment. He didn’t even have his own apartment. Or a bed, for that matter. Or a couch. Fucking Garrison. He’d just have to let Adam down easy before this went any further. Part as friends.

  It would be nice to think they could be friends, but Justin knew himself better than that. He wouldn’t last two weeks in the face of Adam’s clunky charm and his even clunkier biceps. Better to cut off all possibility of romantic entanglement now, before anyone actually got entangled. It was the kind thing to do. The smart thing to do. The only sensible option.

  The delicate wooden chair wobbled ominously as Adam took a seat, and Justin stifled a giggle at the disgruntled look Adam shot down at it. If he’d had laser vision, the chair would’ve been a bonfire.

  “Not a fan of antiques?” Justin asked.

  Adam carefully adjusted his chair, which made a feeble squeak of protest beneath his weight. “Most furniture wasn’t made for me. Especially older stuff. I like to know I’m not going to break something every time I touch it.”

  Justin knew something that wouldn’t break at his touch. Not that they’d ever get the opportunity to test that out. He turned his thoughts away from his khakis and gestured at the richly carved table between them. “I like modern lines, myself. Can’t stand all the dusting with this kinda stuff.”

  “Is that how you’ve done your own place? All modern furniture?” Adam ignored his muffin in favor of giving every ounce of his attention to Justin. He’d never been on a date before where a guy gave his full, undivided attention. The corners of his mouth twitched up in delighted disbelief as he realized Adam hadn’t even checked his phone once since they’d sat down.

  Then the smile died on Justin’s face as reality set in. There was no furniture and certainly nowhere for him to put it. All he had to his name was a ten-year-old Toyota and a mountain of debt. He fiddled with his plate, subdued. “Yeah, something like that. How about you?”

  The way Adam studied his muffin, you’d think it might be poisoned. He carefully peeled back the colorful parchment paper that surrounded it. “I never graduated past cinder block bookcases, I’m definitely not the guy to ask about interior design. I’ve got a decent computer setup with a sturdy desk, and I don’t really worry about the rest.”

  None of that came as a surprise. Justin valiantly ignored his rumbling stomach to arch a brow at Adam. “Would it shock you to know I don’t own a computer?”

  Adam examined the muffin from every angle as if he wasn’t sure how to approach, and maybe Justin should’ve asked for some forks. “You’re more of a laptop guy?”

  It was like a bucket of ice water, remembering exactly how low he’d fallen. Justin tried to act casual with a careless shrug. “I used to have a laptop but it, uh, got lost in the move.” More like it ended up in Garrison’s thieving pickup truck. “Now I just have a busted e-reader and my phone.”

  A busted e-reader absolutely bursting with the filthiest romances known to man, mostly featuring heroes built exactly like Adam, but that was between Justin and the universe. Everyone had a vice. His was books about big, strong men falling for smaller, disaster guys. He never said it wasn’t embarrassing, but it was harmless.

  Justin may have given up on men, but he still had a soft spot for romance.

  Adam took the smallest bite of muffin Justin had ever witnessed and chewed gingerly, as if he’d taken a mouthful of bees instead.

  “Is your muffin alright? What’d you get, blueberry? I got chocolate, and it’s great. I’ve never ordered anything bad here.” Justin eyed his own muffin, but it was as perfectly baked and delicious as always.

  “Mm-hm. It’s uh. Great.” Adam took a second bite quickly and swallowed without chewing before he gulped down some coffee.

  Justin couldn’t fight a smile as realization settled in. “You don’t actually like muffins, do you?”

  It was enchanting that Adam kept trying to act as if he wasn’t gagging down every morsel. He took another bite and swallowed without chewing at all. “What? No, I do. Everyone likes muffins.”

  That was it. Justin couldn’t sit back and watch any longer. As cute as it was that Adam was trying, he hated to see him suffer. “Everyone but you. Give it here. I’ll eat it. Hold on; I’ll go grab something I think you might like.”

  He snagged Adam’s plate and stacked it over his own empty one, then pushed back his chair, already scanning the specials of the day written over the counter.

  Adam reached for his plate. “No, that’s okay—” He cut off with a tiny, shocked gasp when Justin smacked his hand away.

  “Nope. You hated it. Sit tight, let me get something better for you.” It meant something to Justin to figure out what Adam wanted, solving a mystery with only a couple of clues. He peered into the pastry case, skimming over the selection of sugar-dusted confections until he landed on the perfect thing.

  It was still steaming as Justin set down the new plate. “Here, try this.”

  “Is it some kind of pie?” Adam picked it up and sniffed distrustfully, eyes widening as he caught the rich, enticing scent. “What is this, a meat pie?”

 

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