Chapter Seventeen

ANA DIDN’T SLEEP WELL, and she blamed the hotel mattress, even though it was perfectly comfortable. Whatever discomfort she felt stemmed from the way things had gone with Bryan yesterday.

She’d held his hand. Voluntarily.

Not that that meant anything to him, not in any real sense. He had obviously picked up on the things she didn’t want to say and sought to comfort her. She wasn’t surprised. Whatever he might think about himself, he was an essentially kind person. Even in his wilder days, he hadn’t been predatory or untruthful; no doubt every single one of the women had known what she was getting into with him. Bryan never pretended he was something he wasn’t.

But he might be pretending not to be something he was.

Enough, she told herself. She was spending a lot of time thinking about a guy who was unsuitable for her in every way, not the least of which being their web of interconnected friendships and the fact she was investing her time in his company. A company that was going to need their full attention to avoid meeting the same fate as Fourth City Roasters.

Getting the cashier’s check and picking up the truck went seamlessly, even though there was a brief question as to the weight capacity when they signed the paperwork and found out they’d been given a smaller truck than Bryan had rented. They’d assured him it was capable of hauling a thousand-pound machine with no problem, assuming it would fit in the back. So they’d busted out a tape measure and checked against the crate dimensions listed on the roaster manufacturer’s website.

“Let’s hope Louis managed to get it in the crate,” Bryan said when they settled onto the ugly patterned-fabric bench seat. Yes, the truck seemed to be from 1990. But the diesel engine started with a reassuring rumble, so Ana hoped it would get them the eight hundred miles back home.

By some miracle, when they arrived at Fourth City Roasters, Louis was waiting for them, the machine disassembled and crated, all components shrink-wrapped so they wouldn’t move during hauling. Just to make sure, Bryan looped tie-downs around the crate and secured them to the anchors in the floor of the truck bed. This thing wasn’t going anywhere.

Bryan handed over the check, Louis handed over the bill of sale, and Ana and Bryan were on their way west with a nearly twenty-thousand-dollar piece of roasting equipment in the back of a rental truck. The truck, which had felt so light and powerful moments before, now felt sluggish and heavy.

“At least we don’t have to go through mountains. Were we coming from the West Coast to Colorado, we might have a bit of trouble.”

“That’s not reassuring.” Ana cast a look at the side mirror, as if the view of the moving truck would tell her anything useful about its mechanical competence.

“Oh, it’ll make it. It just might be slow. And cost us a lot in fuel. Good thing you’re a killer negotiator.”

“Let’s just hope he didn’t damage anything while he was packing it up.”

“These things are pretty tough,” Bryan said. “They’re essentially big metal barrels with nozzles to shoot fire.”

“And now I know why you’re so interested in roasting.” Ana smiled so he knew she was kidding. “What next then?”

“Well, I already set up an appointment for assembly on Thursday, so assuming all goes well and it’s operational, I should be able to roast my first batch on Friday.”

Ana blinked. “That soon?”

“Just in time. Beans get here tomorrow. Which is another reason this truck has to make it. I have to be there to accept the freight tomorrow afternoon.”

Ana studied Bryan in the seat next to her, once more startled by him. Right now, he looked more like his climber self —his hair was getting long enough again that it curled against the collar of his hooded sweatshirt; the growth on his face had passed five o’clock shadow days ago and was headed into full beard territory. She had the sudden impulse to run her fingers across his jaw and see what it felt like.

Which of course she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. No, wouldn’t.

He glanced at her, evidently noticing her perusal, but not uncomfortable. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that you probably get underestimated a lot.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You come off as kind of a hippie.”

Bryan laughed. “Pretty accurate.”

“But you own a coffee farm in Colombia. You’ve overseen the harvest and the beans are arriving and we have a roaster in the back of a rental truck.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of the progression. Which is the reason why I’m going home to my parents’ house after this. Because I’m broke.”

“One of the people who underestimate you is yourself. You’re doing this, Bryan. This is a huge deal.”

He flicked her another look. “You’re freaking me out a little.”

“Sorry. I just mean . . . this is cool. This is a good thing. And we’re going to make it successful.”

“We?”

“Absolutely we. I’m invested now. I wouldn’t be driving halfway across the country in a really uncomfortable moving van if I didn’t believe you could do this.”

“Diva.”

It took her a second to realize he was referring to her crack about the van. “Okay, fine, don’t be serious.”

He didn’t look at her, but for the second time in as many days, his hand found hers and squeezed. “That means a lot to me. Seriously. I’m not sure anyone’s believed in me before.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Ana said, but the bloom of warmth in her chest said it didn’t matter.

Great. She actually cared about this guy.

In order to stave off that uncomfortable realization, she pulled her tablet and keyboard from her purse and set it up on her lap.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m getting to work. We have a roaster and we’ll have beans tomorrow. That means I need to get going. There’s packaging design, branding, distribution, advertising . . .” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “No, first things first. . . . I just . . . don’t quite know what that is yet.” It was as if this was suddenly becoming real. It had been so long since she’d actually run an entire marketing campaign that she almost forgot what it was like to be responsible for the success of a product. Not to mention everything else that a start-up entailed.

“If it’s too much, Ana, let me know. I don’t mean to throw this all in your lap. We can hire someone. Hire a firm, whatever.”

“You don’t have the money for a firm, at least not a good one. No, I can do this. I just need to wrap my head around it.”

By the time they crossed the state line into Kansas, she had pages of nested timelines and lists in her project management software —ProjeScape, ironically —and the grip of panic was easing a little bit. It wasn’t as extensive as it looked. She’d start with what seemed like the most immaterial issue but would affect the most areas: branding. She sent off an email to a graphic designer friend, asking her to come up with some logo possibilities for Solid Grounds. They’d work on the brand book from there —font styles and colors that would carry across their packaging and website. Which meant that she needed to get on the schedule for her preferred web designer, since he tended to book up quickly. Fortunately, he owed her a favor, so she got an almost immediate email back saying he’d fit her in whenever she needed him.

“Two down, nine million thirty-six to go,” she quipped.

Bryan grinned at her.

Given their late start, they decided to drive straight through, stopping only for restroom breaks and fast food before hopping back into the truck. By the time the sun was down, Ana’s neck and back were kinked, but she’d made some significant headway on her work. And as they crossed the Colorado state line, she put the finishing touches on the design brief for the website.

“I can’t believe you,” Bryan said. “You just seriously knocked out a month’s worth of work in ten hours.”

Ana rolled her head, easing the kinks in her neck from looking down the entire day. “Amazing what you can accomplish when you have no distractions. Makes me think I should lock myself in a concrete box at work with no phone.” She reached up and kneaded a particularly stubborn knot from her neck, twisting her head one way and then another to try to loosen it.

“Come here.” Bryan gestured for her to slide closer on the bench seat. It was a testament to her exhaustion that she did as he said without questioning, unbuckling her shoulder belt and rebuckling the center lap belt beside him.

Bryan didn’t take his eyes off the road as he reached over and began to knead the knotted muscles in her shoulder and neck.

Ana sucked in a breath. “Ouch. Your hands are stronger than you think they are.”

“Sorry. Climbing.” He eased off the pressure but didn’t stop, and she let herself relax into his touch.

Until she became aware that it was Bryan who was touching her, his calloused fingertips rough against her soft skin, something that should be unpleasant but was anything but. Desire shot straight through her, sharp and unmistakable, as far removed from the stirring of attraction she’d felt earlier as a direct strike of lightning from the crackle of static. She jerked away and he immediately dropped his hand.

“Did I hurt you again? I was trying to be careful.”

“No, I’m okay. Thanks. That feels better.” She unbuckled her belt and slid back to the far side of the cab, silently letting her breath out in a steady stream while she made sense of what had just happened.

She’d known she liked Bryan. She’d known she was attracted to him. But until now, she hadn’t known she wanted him.

* * *

They pulled up in front of Ana’s building just past midnight, bleary-eyed and cramped into a permanent sitting position. Or at least Bryan was. He had no way of knowing what Ana was feeling because she’d spent the last two hours not talking to him.

He pushed the gear lever in the steering column to park and turned off the engine, then sat there in the dark for a long minute, trying to think of what he should say. “We made it.”

“That we did.” Ana started gathering up her things, shoving them into the depths of her huge tote.

“Thanks for coming with me. I wouldn’t have wanted to make that trip on my own.”

“Sure. I’m glad to help. It was fun.” She didn’t sound like she was mad, but there was a false note of perkiness in her voice. Before, he might not have picked up on it, but after spending two entire days in her presence, he felt like he knew every nuance of her voice. She thought she hid her emotions well, but if you knew how to listen, she was pretty transparent.

And right now, it was clear that he’d done something dramatically wrong.

“I’m going to be at the space early tomorrow to unload this and receive the delivery. If you need me, you can reach me on my cell or just drop by.”

Ana nodded. “Okay. I’ll let you know when I’ve got something to share. Maureen said she’d have some basic logo designs for us to look at in a couple of days.”

“That’s great. Thanks, Ana.”

Ana nodded and levered open the truck door, then hopped out. Her knees buckled for a moment when she hit the pavement, but she righted herself quickly with a self-deprecating smile. “Maybe I need to give my legs a second.”

Bryan chuckled. “You know we could have stopped and walked around if you wanted to.”

“No, I wanted to get home. It was a long drive.” She hauled her roller case out of the cab of the truck. “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll be in touch.” And then she slammed the door and headed into the lobby of her posh building.

Bryan watched until she disappeared around the corner to the elevator and sighed. He’d thought they were making progress. No, he’d thought they were becoming friends. And then he’d made the mistake of touching her. His intentions had been completely innocent, but obviously she didn’t believe that because she’d jerked away like he’d stabbed her. Or betrayed her. Or something equally horrible.

She said she thought he underestimated himself, but now he knew that he had a good reason for doing so. He’d never escape his well-deserved reputation. Especially with a committed Christian woman like Ana Sanchez. He needed her, no question. She had the skills, ability, and experience to make this business a success; he didn’t even know if he could roast his beans. Which meant that from here on out, he had to be on his best behavior. No touching. No compliments. Just business.

However difficult that was beginning to feel.