Kismet by Cassie Decker Page A

that Tucker felt like his breath was snatched right out of his lungs. And then Cal’s slow, easy smile and firm, warm handshake brought all the air back in one gasping rush.
    A soft chuckle rumbled out of Cal’s chest at the sound Tucker made, and it was enough to promptly short-circuit Tucker’s brain, rendering him a special kind of speechless; he barely had the mental capacity to give his name in return.
    Thankfully he somehow rediscovered his voice after his initial stunned floundering, and the two quickly fell into an effortless conversation, talking like they had known each other for years instead of minutes. Tucker sat, by turns talking and listening intently, taking in everything from the animated way Cal used his hands when he spoke to the faint wrinkles that creased the corners of his eyes when he smiled. To say Tucker was completely captivated would be an understatement.
    People continued to filter in and out of the coffee shop, but Tucker barely noticed at all; he was completely engrossed. They spoke of their jobs, and Tucker discovered Cal was a former ranch hand and now current mechanic working hard to hopefully open his own shop soon in Vail, where he was currently living. They talked about their hometowns—his was Denver, the very city they were sitting in, and Cal’s was Austin, Texas. Tucker found rather quickly Cal had just returned from there, having traveled back home for his sister’s wedding, and decided last minute to stop in for a shot of caffeine on his way out of the airport to retrieve his truck from the garage. The long drive back to Vail and the fact he hadn’t slept much over the last week with all the wedding festivities happening spurred him to enter the café and lay down more money than he thought fair just for a cup of regular black.
    “Well, that and the hot blond sitting in front of the window,” he added with a wink before bringing his drink to his mouth.
    Tucker looked behind himself, momentarily confused about who Cal was talking about. A warm blush burned across his cheeks and he dropped his eyes to the nearly empty paper cup in his hands when he realized he was the hot blond.
    “Not so bad yourself,” Tucker said earnestly, once again bringing his gaze back up to Cal’s. He mentally damned his fair skin for giving away his embarrassment so easily when he saw Cal smirk good-naturedly.
    “So what about you?” Cal asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his legs. His worn leather cowboy boots thumped down loudly onto the tiled floor. “I’m guessing you didn’t just come here for the reasonably priced coffee.”
    Letting out a breathy chuckle and shaking his head, Tucker set his cup down on the plank table before him. “I’m on my way to Boston for a web designers’ convention,” he explained, “for three fun-filled days of responsive web content, computer code encryption, and design performance.”
    Cal looked at him as if he had just grown a second head. “I have no idea what you just said, kid, but you seem pretty excited about it, so I’m excited for you.” He brought his drink up in a little toast, grinning broadly before taking a sip.
    Tucker smiled sheepishly and brought a hand up to rub across the back of his neck. “I am pretty excited,” he admitted, reaching his other hand out to trace his fingers around an old water ring on the wood table. Cal’s gaze followed the slow circular path while Tucker continued, “These conventions are great networking tools for small businesses, and I’m hoping to make a lot of connections when I’m out there.” He went on to tell Cal his own fledgling design business absolutely depended on the relationships he would make over the next three days.
    Cal nodded thoughtfully. “Good for you, kid,” he said. “Putting yourself out there like that ain’t easy, and it takes a hell of a lot more courage than most folks these days seem to possess or even understand.”
    Cal’s words filled Tucker with a