Page 6 of His Wisconsin Wallflower (Stateside Doms #25)

“Take care, Beth.” He stepped aside to let her pass.

As she strutted out, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, Quinten let out a long breath. He rubbed the back of his neck, the tension in his shoulders that had been building during the brief exchange easing. If only dealing with the accountant was as straightforward as dealing with Beth.

Quinten grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and slung it over his arm as he stepped into the front office. His mother looked up from the computer, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose. “Heading out?” She tilted her head.

“Yeah. Grabbing a quick bite at the lunchroom. Can I bring you something to eat?”

She smiled, a hint of warmth softening her usual sharp expression. “A Reuben on rye, please.”

“Drink?” he asked, already halfway to the door.

“Raisa’s homemade iced tea,” she replied without hesitation.

Quinten stopped, raising an eyebrow at her choice. “Iced tea? It’s freezing out.”

“Too much caffeine makes me jittery,” she replied matter-of-factly, before adding with a knowing smile, “and there’s nothing quite like Raisa’s iced tea.”

Quinten chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled on his coat. “Tell me more about her.”

“Raisa?” His mother leaned back in her chair, her expression growing thoughtful. “I figured you knew her. She was in high school when you were.”

“I know,” Quinten said, now more contemplative. “Maybe two classes behind me?”

“Actually, I think only one,” she corrected. “She skipped a class. That girl’s brilliant.”

Quinten nodded along as he listened to his mother. “I like what she did with the bookstore.”

“Oh, yes,” his mother said with a note of admiration.

“It’s wonderful. She turned it into a thriving business again.

You know, Agnes—her grandmother—really struggled when the major internet players like Amazon started taking over.

But Raisa? She’s a fighter. She added the lunchroom and coffee shop.

Runs a couple of book clubs, too. Keeps people interested in reading.

I’m so glad she’s still here. There’s nothing like holding and sniffing a book before you buy it. ”

Quinten smirked at her enthusiasm. “Thanks, Mom.” He waved on his way out and headed for the lunchroom, needing to get rid of the burning anger coiling in his chest. The accountant’s evasiveness was maddening, and Beth’s arrogant assumption that he’d fall right back in line had pushed him over the edge.

The crisp winter air slapped at his face as he stepped outside, grounding him, but it wasn’t enough to cool the heat of his frustration.

By the time he reached Raisa’s shop, he’d resolved to channel that anger into something productive—even if it meant facing another challenge head-on.

The hearty aroma of yeasty bread, roasted meat, and caramelized onions greeted him as he entered.

It was mid-afternoon, and the place was lively but not crowded.

Raisa was behind the counter, chatting with an older man as she handed him a wrapped sandwich.

She flashed him a radiant smile—the kind Quinten had never seen directed at him.

A pang of something uncomfortably close to jealousy twisted his gut.

Now he ached to make her smile like that at him.

Why didn’t she? She glanced up as if she sensed his eyes on her and gave him a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes before returning to her work.

Quinten waited for a moment before stepping forward. “I’ve got to ask.” He leaned casually on the counter. “What’s the deal with your iced tea? My mom won’t stop raving about it.”

Raisa looked up, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “The deal?”

“Yeah. What makes it so special?”

Her lips twitched as if she were suppressing a grin. “Fresh ingredients, mostly. Mint, hibiscus, citrus… and lots of patience and love.”

Quinten couldn’t help but grin back. “Patience and love, huh? Sounds like a secret weapon.”

“Maybe,” she replied, her tone light, but there was a hint of whimsy in her expression. “It’s not as complicated as people think. You only have to let the flavors steep properly and not rush the process.”

Quinten leaned a little closer, his smile widening. “I like that.” He let his gaze linger on her for a moment before he added, almost impulsively, “You know, speaking of flavors… how about dinner?”

Raisa blinked, unmistakably surprised. “Dinner?”

“Yeah. I’d like to have a meal with you.”

“Unless you count the diner, there aren’t many options around here.” Her brow arched as if in challenge. “You know a place?”

Gauntlet thrown and taken! “I do.” He puffed up his chest. “There’s a spot that serves the best beer cheese soup and bratwurst you’ll find in Wisconsin.”

Raisa hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “All right. Dinner it is.”

Quinten straightened, pleased. “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.

” As he turned to leave, he caught her shaking her head almost unperceptively, her smile still lingering.

Quinten slapped his forehead with a sheepish grin.

“Almost forgot to order. Let’s see…” He leaned closer to the menu, scanning the options.

“I’ll take a meat lover’s sandwich with all the fixings, a Reuben on rye, and two iced teas. ”

Raisa nodded, as she jotted down the order.

When she turned back to him, Quinten reached for his wallet and handed her a crisp fifty-dollar bill.

Their fingers touched, and again a small, not-so-unexpected jolt sparked between them.

He couldn’t help the small flicker of satisfaction when she met his gaze, her eyes momentarily soft before she turned back to prepare the order.

For the first time in a long while, Quinten felt like something was starting to fall into place.