Page 28 of Healer’s Reckoning (The Healer’s #3)

Chapte r 28

Ava

I wake up the next morning and stare up at the ceiling frowning. Bryce must have carried me to bed. The last thing I remember was sitting out by the pool, listening to his strokes. I actually can’t believe I slept all night; I can’t remember the last time I did that. I usually have nightmares. The swimming must have worn me out. I climb out of bed, keeping an ear tuned to hear if he’s home or not. When I don’t hear anything, I open my door and listen. Confirming that Bryce is indeed gone for the day, I walk out to the kitchen and over to the back door. The sun’s already out, and it looks like a gorgeous day. I turn back to the kitchen and look around for what Bryce uses to make coffee. There’s something about the mornings here that makes me want to become a coffee drinker. He surprises me by having a regular old coffee maker. I guess I expected an espresso machine or something fancy. There’s still some coffee in the pot from whatever he made this morning. I pour it into a cup and microwave it. After looking in the fridge, I find some milk and then search high and low for sugar. I look critically at my cup. “That’s what people do, right?” I mutter to myself. Taking my mug, I open the sliding door and slip outside and take a deep breath. There’s something about this place. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s so peaceful. I sit down in one of the recliners by the pool carefully, so as not to spill my cup of coffee. I close my eyes as the sun soaks into my skin. I never realized how much I love the sun. I open my eyes and take a sip of my coffee...and promptly spew it out next to me on the pavement. “Ugh. That’s awful! How do people drink this stuff!”

“Not a fan, I take it.”

I whip my head back. “Bryce. I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just stopped in to see if you needed anything. What was that you were trying to drink?” He nods at my mug.

I wrinkle my nose in distaste. “I was trying to be a grown up and drink coffee, but it’s disgusting. How do people drink that stuff?”

The right corner of his mouth curves just the slightest bit, like he’s fighting a smile. “Is that the leftover coffee from this morning?”

“Yes. We need to talk about your taste buds, Bryce; I think they’re pretty messed up.”

“What did you do to it? It tasted fine this morning.”

“Nothing,” I say exasperated.

“Let me try.” He puts out his hand, and I give him the mug. He takes a drink and spews it out in the exact same place I did.

“See?” I tell him.

He frowns and wipes his mouth. “Why did you add all that sugar and milk to it? It doesn’t even taste like coffee anymore.”

“You drink your coffee black?” I ask in horror.

He smirks this time. “That’s how coffee’s meant to be drunk, Ava.”

“No. That's disgusting. I may not be a coffee connoisseur but even I know that black coffee is terrible. Only people with no taste buds drink black coffee.”

“Well, I guess I have no taste buds then.”

I blink up at him. “You really don’t put anything in your coffee?” He shakes his head, and I stare down at my mug. “That was so disappointing. I really want to be a coffee person.”

“Come on.” He walks back towards the sliding door. “Throw some shoes on and come with me.”

“I’m not dressed for the day.” I motion to my outfit. Bryce’s eyes run over me, and I think about what he’s seeing from his perspective. Short shorts, a tank top, hair that’s a mess, and no bra. I suddenly regret drawing his attention to myself. “You know what. Never mind.” I cross my arms across my chest.

“Come on, Ava. Grab a sweatshirt or something and let’s go.”

I hurry up to follow him, not because I want to go anywhere particularly. But he’s a little more like the Bryce I sort of know right now, and I guess I don’t want to lose that. I throw on a bra and grab a sweatshirt and flip flops from my room and brush my teeth. I finger comb my hair and throw it up on top my head. “I hope you’re not taking me anywhere that I have to look presentable because I look like a hot mess.”

He turns to me, and I can visibly see as his face relaxes and he almost smiles. “No, you don’t. You look good. Come on. We’re just going for coffee anyway.”

I stop. “I thought we already decided I don’t like coffee.”

He puts a hand on my back and propels me towards the door. “We decided you don’t like plain brewed coffee, but there are so many choices besides that. You may be one of those people that likes froofroo coffee.”

“I’m sorry. Did you just say froofroo?” I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face.

He stares at me and gives me almost a reluctant smile. “Yeah, I did. Now come on.”

I grab my wallet by the door and follow him out. Not wanting to lose the lightheartedness that’s present, I turn to look at him once I’m buckled. “So where are we getting this froofroo coffee, and what exactly are we getting?”

“You’ll see.”

We don’t drive very long before he pulls into the parking lot of a coffee shop. I can’t see inside because the large windows are shaded. He holds the door, and we step inside. I’m immediately taken back by the aesthetics. The bench seats are all pink, and so is the front serving counter. The tabletops are black, and somehow it all works. And then my eyes catch on the pastry display, and I nearly swallow my tongue because on display in front of me are the most beautiful, decadent croissants. There’s a flaky, perfectly plain one. Then there are chocolate ones, almond ones, blueberry and peach. Then there are the ones that look like waffles that have some kind of whipped topping as well as large raspberries or strawberries and powdered sugar. There’s a cinnamon roll one, a pistachio one, and more.

“If you’re finished drooling, we can get one or two or three,” Bryce says dryly from right next to me.

I don’t turn away from the case. “I didn’t know places like this existed.”

He walks away from me, and I study each and every one, trying to decide which one to get. “What kind of coffee do you want to try?” he asks. I look up at the board and instantly become overwhelmed. There are so many —cake batter, toasted marshmallow, salted caramel, cinnamon French toast, chocolate raspberry, peanut butter cup, French vanilla, almond joy, peppermint patty, snickers, milky way...and more. I look at the young guy waiting for my order. “Okay. I want a coffee that doesn’t taste like coffee. Is that a thing?”

He smiles. “Yeah. Iced or hot?”

I hadn’t thought about iced. “Let’s do one of each,” Bryce says.

The kid nods. “Do you like it creamy or darker?”

“Definitely creamy,” I tell him.

He faces the board. “Pick two flavors that sound good.”

I look up at the board and just pick the two that stood out to me first. “Toasted marshmallow and salted caramel.”

“Great choices. Whole milk okay?” I nod. “Great. I’ll get to work on those.” He turns away before I can ask about a croissant. I let it go; I figure I’ll come back another time to try one. I pull my card out, but Bryce beats me to it.

“I can get my coffees,” I tell him.

“I know.”

I elbow him. When he looks down at me, I shake my head. “Thank you. Let me get the next one.”

“Sure.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You said that way too easily.” I turn away and wander around the shop, taking it all in. It really is a cute shop. Several people are working with laptops and headphones in. I study the artwork on the walls. Everything in the shop adds to its aesthetic, an aesthetic I surprisingly love, even though I'm not a fan of pink in particular.

“Ready?” Bryce asks. I turn around and see him carrying two coffees and a bag.

“Did you get a croissant to try?”

“Something like that.” He walks over to the door and holds it for me. “Which one do you want to try first? Hot or iced?”

“Mmm, hot.” He hands me the hot coffee, and I take a sip. The caramel flavor hits me straight on. “Oh wow.”

“Good?” he asks.

I take another sip. “See, now I could be a coffee fan with coffee like this.” I take another sip. “This is soooo good.”

“I’m glad you like it. Try the iced.”

I take that one next and take a small sip, unsure what to expect. It’s different after drinking the hot coffee. I take another sip, and this time the marshmallow flavor is stronger. “Oh, that’s good too.” I take another sip.

“Which one do you like better?”

I take another drink of the iced coffee. “You know what? I think I’m an iced coffee fan.”

“Yeah?”

He opens my door for me, and I slide in the front seat. “Bryce, this so good. Thank you.”

“You haven’t gotten to the good part yet. Look in the bag.”

I put the drinks in the cup holders and open the bag in my lap. “Did you buy out the entire pastry case?”

“Almost.”

I look at all the containers with clear lids. “Ohhhh, I think I’m drooling.”

“Try one,” he encourages.

I dig through the bag until I find the one that looks like a waffle with raspberries and cream on top. I hold it up to my mouth and take a bite and proceed to moan out loud. “Oh my word.” I chase the bite with a drink of my iced coffee. “Bryce, I can’t even...”

He looks over at me and smiles. “Good?”

“It’s amazing! Here, try a bite.” I lean towards him.

“I’m not really a sweets guy.”

“You have to try this.” He takes a small bite. “Isn’t that so good?”

“I think I’ll leave it for you to enjoy. I’d be more into the just plain croissant.”

“Boring,” I tell him even as I look through the bag for the one plain croissant. I hold it out to him, and he takes a bite.

“Yeah, that’s good.”

I try a bite as well. “It really is good.”

“Even though it’s not slathered in cream and sugar?” he asks with a smirk.

“Hey, don’t knock it.”

We arrive back on his pack land, and security lets us through. He parks, and I start gathering everything. “I can’t believe I’m a coffee fan. Who knew?”

“Did you never try it before?”

I shrug. “By the time I was old enough to drink coffee, I never had money to buy it out. I tried diner coffee, but that was...” The look on his face says it all. “Yeah. That. I could have when I was with the Northwoods, but I didn’t. They have a coffee shop right on the premises. I just...” I pause. “I kind of gave up on life for a little bit. So, I guess finding out whether or not I was a coffee drinker wasn’t up there on the top of my list, you know?” The silence feels heavy, so I push on. “Anyway, iced coffee for the win. I want to try more flavors. I gotta say, though, that the caramel and the marshmallow flavors were pretty good and are going to be hard to beat.” I face him. “Thank you for the coffees and the entire case of pastries.”

His voice and tone are serious when he replies. “You’re welcome.”