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“I honestly just came in for some coffee,” he answered. “It’s my turn to pick up coffee and doughnuts for the crew back at the base. I can’t pretend that I was on some kind of mission to find you again, but I might have been if I’d had anything to go on. Now that our paths have crossed again, though, I don’t mind telling you I’m glad they did.”

She appeared to consider this, studying him with an intensity that made him fidget. “I see,” she said, apparently satisfied. “In that case, what can I get you?”

The friendly, impersonal voice caught him off guard. They’d gone from an emotionally charged, private moment to an everyday exchange without any warning, and it left him feeling a bit at sea. He was playing catch up, unable to read what was going on behind her eyes, but he could play it cool—for now.

“I’d like a half dozen black coffees with cream and sugar on the side, and a dozen assorted doughnuts. But make one of them a Boston Cream, and keep it out of the box—I’ll have it with my coffee on the way in.”

“Excellent choice,” she said, her voice light and friendly, until their fingers brushed as she handed him his doughnut. At his touch, the illusion of friendly indifference slipped away. Her face flushed and she pulled her hand back, but it was too late. She was unmasked.