Chapter 4

“Double oat-milk latte, extra cinnamon, no foam,” said a voice behind me.

I turned, startled. Ben Carter stood there with his signature easy grin and a coffee cup extended like a peace offering.

“You stalked my order?” I asked, suspicious.

“You tweeted it during that zoning meeting you hated. Figured you could use the reminder of simpler times.”

I accepted it warily. “You know how many zoning meetings I hate?”

“That’s what makes it a gamble,” he winked.

Ben was the structural engineer everyone liked—tall, decent jawline, allergic to drama. A safe guy. A good guy.

Which is probably why…