“I’m assuming a lot of employers might see their people fleeing the city,” Dan said. “I’ll be out front if you want to lock up.” He started toward the door and then swung around. “Wait a minute! I brewed coffee!”

He went back to pour a cup of coffee. She was staring at him, and for the first time that morning, she gave him a smile. “Hey, I’m standing right here, you know.”

“Sorry! How rude!” He poured her a cup, too. She found cream in the refrigerator and added a touch to hers, then offered it to him.

He shook his head and said, “No, thanks.”

“Cools it down, you know,” she told him.

“Ice cube does the same. And I hate weak coffee.”

“That’s our city’s finest, dark and robust. No weak coffee here,” she promised him.

They both sipped the coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter together.

“I don’t want to be a cliché—” he said.

“Then, don’t be.”

“You’re good?” he asked her. “With me?”

She looked away, the color growing darker in her cheeks. “Of course,” she said, adding, “And look, it was what it was. No commitment.”

“No commitment... So, you don’t want me saying anything like About last night...”

“Lord, no. All right, this coffee was delicious. I’m just running through the gate to Monty’s.”

“Wait!” he told her.

He drained the last of the coffee from his cup. It was everything she promised. Dark, strong, robust.

“I’ll get out the door first. You lock up.”

He headed out of the house. The dogs found him as he made his way toward the gate. He heard Katie locking her door as he tried to share some quick attention between the three big dogs until they saw Katie and rushed to her.

He walked out, carefully closing the gate and getting into his car. A minute later, she came running through the gate, telling the dogs to stay, carefully closing the gate as she left.

She wouldn’t look at him as she got into the car. He wasn’t sure whether to try or talk about what had happened between them or not. She’d said no commitment.

But he wondered if she had meant that because of him or herself.

“Katie...” he began, before turning the key in the ignition.

“Please don’t,” she whispered. “I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

“Why?”

“Because... I mean, people just don’t do things like that.”

He didn’t mean to laugh; it was just spontaneous. She glared at him.

“Katie, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! But, yes, people do things like that. Rather frequently.”

“I don’t,” she whispered.