We’re having another cold snap here. The sight from my window is a mix of frost-rimed grass and bright, beautiful sunshine. But what if it were very early morning, and you’re lacking both sleep and breakfast? Then you’d have the scene I’d love to share for today’s Sunday Snippet.
And it’s a crime scene! Sort of.
Crime scenes come in all shapes and sizes. In A Box of Wishes, the crime scene is a coffeeshop – something DS Ben Hobart is devoutly thankful for when he arrives at ridiculous o’clock in the morning without having had even a cup of tea. And no wonder, because there’s nothing better than swapping the cold and dark for a warm, inviting room that smells of coffee and freshly baked treats.
But Ben’s good fortune doesn’t end there. What happens next is what our Sunday Snippet is all about. Read it under the image:
Golden light spilled from the coffeehouse’s windows along with the enticing scent of freshly baked goods, and Ben’s stomach woke up and roared its displeasure.
Inside, the scent of warm bread twined with the aromas of sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon and made his mouth water. Almost as much as the man behind the counter.
Ben stopped in his tracks. Blinked. Had he just…?
He had.
In his defence, he’d have to be blind to ignore this man.
The barista wore a dark green apron over close-fitting black jeans and a long-sleeved top. He was slight, with warm brown eyes, a mobile mouth, and shoulder-length auburn hair that he’d pulled back into a tight tail. And the mirror running the length of the wall behind the bar showed him to be just as decorative from the back as he was from the front.
“Good morning, sir,” he greeted when Ben reached the bar. “How do you like your caffeine?”
“What?”
The man gestured, lips stretching into a welcoming smile. “You’re up early and barely awake. How do you like your caffeine?”
“You reported a break-in,” Ben said. “I’m DS Hobart, Northamptonshire Police.”
The smile grew a little wider. “I knew you weren’t one of my regulars. Thank you for coming so quickly. Now, before you ask me all your questions, can I offer you breakfast?”
Ben stared longingly at the ham and cheese croissants that must have come out of the oven not long since. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t just skipped breakfast, but dinner, too. First things first, though. “Would you have tea?”
“Of course. Grab a seat. I’ll bring it right over.”
It wasn’t standard procedure for investigating burglaries, but if the owner of the coffeehouse needed to look after people to keep his composure, Ben would let him do so.
Throwback Thursday: Asking for help is hard. Accepting help is harder.