Love’s Influence by Tori Alvarez

Chapter 4

Carson talksto us about the history of the town on the way there. His excitement about all it has to offer can’t be missed.

“I want to show you a few places, it will be a walking tour of the historical part of downtown, the shops and restaurants I recommend. But then you will have a couple of hours in town if you choose. The van will go back to the hotel but will come and go to pick up anyone. I do hope you spend time getting yourself acquainted with the town though. It is such an important part of the hotel and vineyard. If we want our customers to stay more than one or two nights, they need to know about places to go other than the hotel and things to do other than what we have to offer.”

The driver parks on a side street, and when we exit, I notice the street we are on and that we just so happened to park in front of Cris’s Coffee. I keep my lips tightly sealed, not wanting to share this place with the others, and hoping it isn’t on Carson’s list of places. He begins walking down to the main street, and I’m relieved to have a place to escape to later.

We follow Carson to begin our tour. He does not walk into any of the stores, as he said he just wanted us to become aware of them. We will have free time to explore after he leaves, and can spend as much time as we would like in each depending on our individual interests.

The shops are diverse, from home goods to specialty pet goods to clothing shops, but each with a local small-town feel. I make note of a few I’ll circle back to and type out some quick notes on my phone about the people and the atmosphere.

Carson says his goodbyes after handing us each a business card for the driver, and everyone spreads out in their own direction, except a couple of influencers who walk away together. I stand in place, enjoying the smell of popcorn mixed with fresh fudge coming out of the shop behind me. For a late Monday morning, the street has a good number of people walking and dashing into shops. I wonder if they are locals or tourists. A summer Monday could be the explanation for the traffic.

After spendingover an hour exploring the shops, I walk into Cris’s Coffee with my hands filled with shopping bags. I spent my time exploring the shops and finding beautiful items for me and also for gifts. I scan the small sitting area and see Lorenzo tucked away at a table in the corner, looking at me and smiling. Is this just a coincidence?

He stands and walks over to me. “Let me help you.” He grabs the bags in one of my hands, then directs me back to his table with his other hand on my lower back.

Sitting down and catching my breath, I finally answer, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Looks like you had a good time.” He points to the pile of bags on the floor.

“I did. But in my defense, they aren’t all for me. I found some great gifts.” My lips pull into a smile I try to contain; I’m pleasantly surprised, but excited, to find him here. “And what brings you into town?”

“Nothing much. I enjoy the coffee here, like I mentioned earlier.”

“Well then I hope I’m not disturbing you,” I say, a bit disappointed, thinking just maybe he wanted to see me again. “I can always sit at another table so you can get back to what you were doing,” I quickly add.

“What I was doing was waiting to see if you would come to the place I suggested. I am doing what I planned,” he stresses.

He winks, and my heart thumps once, hard, against my chest at his honesty.

“Oh.” I’m lacking any other words for this. The slight flirtation I thought we had going just took a turn, and his flirting is no longer in question.

“What can I get you?” the barista asks me.

I turn to her. “What? Uh… Do you have any special drinks right now?” With my mind racing over what this all means, I stumble over my words.

“Of course we do.” She smiles. “It’s an iced coffee with local homemade caramel syrup from The Fudge Place on Main.”

“That sounds delicious! Can I get it with soy?”

“Sure thing.” She walks back to the bar, and I watch as she gets started making my drink.

“What are you drinking?” I ask, finally giving Lorenzo my attention again.

“Just basic boring coffee.”

I smile. “Not boring. Coffee in its many forms is a necessity.”

He nods, then switches subjects quickly, “Other than the blog and influencing do you do anything else career-wise?” he asks me.

“Yes. I’m a high school English teacher. The influencing is my side job.”

“Wow! A teacher. That is something I don’t have the patience for.” He shakes his head back and forth a couple of times, eyes wide.

I can’t help but laugh at his dramatic reaction. “Why do you say that?”

“A couple of years ago I assisted with a cooking class for teens, and it was a disaster.” He drops his face in his hands, and I can only guess he’s reliving the experience.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” I begin, but then add quickly, “could it?”

He looks up at me with his lips pulled down, “The other chef who was there said it went well. Just like every other teen cooking class. I guess either I don’t have the patience or am too serious in the kitchen.”

“Let me guess … they were messing around, being silly, cracking jokes, and just being kids?” I laugh again, beginning to get the picture.

“Yes. And all I wanted them to do was listen and do exactly as I said so they would learn good techniques. The kitchen can be a dangerous place.”

I can’t keep it in any longer, a full-blown belly laugh escapes. His eyes widen at my reaction.

“Is it really that funny?” His face drops.

“I’m sorry.” I get my laughter under control. “Teachers are always fighting this battle. You know, the one where society tells us how to do our job without ever stepping foot into a classroom. When someone finally does and has the experience you had, I find it funny. Not everyone is cut out to be in front of a classroom full of kids.”

“Touché.” His smile returns.

The barista places my drink down on the table, so I reach into my purse for my wallet.

“Place it on my tab, please,” Lorenzo tells her.

“Thank you, but you don’t have to.”

“It’s my pleasure. It was my suggestion after all.” He places his hand on mine, and I swear a buzz circulates throughout my whole body with this small, innocent contact.

Formulating a sentence has become foreign, so I take a sip of coffee to buy me some time to think of what to say.

“Did you get any good pictures?” he begins again.

“No, I didn’t bring my camera today. All I did was scope different locations. I didn’t want to lug my camera around. I’m here for the rest of the week, so I have plenty of time to get the photos I need. Today I’m focusing on the experience. Pictures that are one-and-done, I’ll catch, but other than that, I’ll wait until I’m here alone, away from the others.” I catch the irritation in my voice as I mention the influencers. I need to watch that.

“You won’t be leaving tomorrow?” He lowers his voice.

I shake my head slowly.

“May I suggest a private dinner? Just the two of us.” He leans over the table slightly, his gaze piercing me.

My breath hitches as I answer, “I would love that.”

Still holding my hand, he squeezes it softly, then lets it go.

“Good.” His smile widens.

And now the conversation seems to be flowing much more easily. Maybe it was knowing our time together wasn’t coming to an end or acknowledging the attraction we had.

After about an hour, and with my drink long gone, I say, “My drink was delicious, but I should be calling the driver to pick me up.”

“Why would you need the driver? I can take you back to the hotel. Are you ready?”

“Are you sure?” I hesitate, not wanting to impose.

“Of course.”

I bite my bottom lip, attempting to hold in the smile trying to take over my face.

“I need to go back also. I should be checking in on the kitchen,” he finishes.

And then it dawns on me that he has a dinner to cook for tonight and he has been here at this coffee shop for I’m not sure how long.

The smile that was just trying to make an appearance is gone as quickly as it began. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about your dinner. Let’s get going then.” I stand quickly, bending over and trying to collect all my bags.

“Hey.”

I turn around looking up towards his voice.

He is standing behind me, smirking. “I’m not in a hurry.”

With all my bags in hand, I straighten up to face him. He grabs the bags I have in one hand, and with his free hand, he brushes a piece of hair that has fallen in my face back behind my ear. Hypnotized, I can’t pull my gaze away from him. He comes down, whispering in my ear, “Can I see you after dinner tonight?”

“Yes,” I reply, breathless.

“Let’s go,” he says right before I feel a soft kiss on my neck.

Lorenzo insistedon helping me carry all my bags to my room. I open the door, propping it open with my back so that he can walk in. He places my packages on the bed, then turns around to look at me. I follow his lead and place everything I am carrying down.

He closes the distance between us, grabbing the sides of my face with both his hands, then slowly coming down his lips meet mine in a quick kiss that’s not satisfying the craving I now have for him. I bring my hands up to his shoulders as his slide down, landing on my waist. Up on tiptoes, I pull him in for a heat-filled kiss. All the innocent flirtation built a want that a simple kiss could not fulfill.

He pulls me closer, our bodies flush against one another as my hands tangle in his brown hair. His tongue brushes against my lips, asking for more access, which I grant. He begins kissing down my neck, so I lean my head to the side, right when my room phone begins to ring.

Startled by the noise, we pull away but don’t let go.

“I better get that,” I say, catching my breath.

I take the couple of steps to the side of the bed, picking up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Ah, Miss Moran. I’m so glad you are in your room.” Carson’s voice is on the other end. “The driver just let me know that he had not picked you up from town, and I got a bit worried.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Carson. I shouldn’t have been so thoughtless. I should have texted that I got another ride back. Thank you for checking with me.”

“Not a problem. We’ll see you at dinner.” And the line goes dead.

“Crap. I feel like I was just scolded by the principal.” I turn to Lorenzo, who is holding in a laugh.

“He’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He shakes his head as he lets his laugh escape. “But I should get going.”

After a few more kisses and an exchange of numbers, I’m alone in my room, wishing I wasn’t. This is strange; I have never been swept off my feet so quickly. Falling for a guy… Or is it just the excitement of a solo vacation and taking advantage of all it has to offer? Thoughts of Lorenzo race through my mind until I notice the time. Time to dress for dinner.