Chapter 5 #2
I glared at the coffee machine, wondering if I was really gonna hang around here this afternoon on my own time—unpaid—and let Lee teach me how to use it.
I’d rather set it on fire, honestly. Him too.
But then I thought of Cash, and how he’d limped home after coming off his dirt bike, and how he needed me there so he could sleep at night.
And there was nothing I wouldn’t do for Cash—and not much I hadn’t already done—so I guessed I was going to grit my teeth and do this.
I sure as hell wasn’t going to like it, that was all.
I went to run a hand through my hair and instead hit the dumb flat baker’s cap that Lee had made me put on when I’d gone to work in the back.
Food regulations or some shit. If Cash ever saw me wearing it, he’d give me shit about it for days.
The customer Tyler had served left, holding the door open for someone new. It was Bobby. He was wearing jeans, flip-flops, and a T-shirt bedazzled with rhinestones. He beamed as he looked around the place.
“Well, doesn’t this place look great? Smells great too!” He held his hand over the counter to Tyler. “Bobby Merritt, mayor of Goose Run and owner of Gobble de Goose. Pleased to meet you.”
Tyler blinked a few times before shaking his hand. Bobby had that effect on most people. “Tyler Marsh. Good to meet you, sir.”
“Just Bobby,” Bobby said. “Now, how’s about I have one of them white cookies there and a coffee. Chase makes it just right!”
Tyler threw me a disbelieving look as I hustled up to the machine and pressed some random buttons. The machine spat out something that looked like coffee, and I passed the cup over to Bobby. Tyler watched with a kind of horrified anticipation.
Bobby took a sip of the coffee and gave a huge satisfied sigh. “That’s the stuff!” He smacked his lips. “Now, any chance I can go in the back and see the place in action? Lucille’s tied up out on the street since, you know, all those pesky food safety laws and things.”
There was a sudden shriek from somewhere outside, which tracked. Lucille wasn’t known for waiting patiently.
“Lucille is Bobby’s goose,” I said when Tyler craned his neck to see where the noise was coming from.
“She’s good luck!” Bobby took a bite of his cookie and hummed in appreciation. “Seems like everything’s up and running. Can’t wait to see it up close.”
He went to step around the counter but Lee appeared from the back and stood in his way. He held something out and gave Bobby an apologetic smile. “Health regulations. You need a hairnet.”
Bobby shrugged and set his coffee down on the counter. Then he took the hairnet and stretched it out, pulling it down over his messy hair so it made his ears stick out.
Suddenly our little round caps didn’t seem so dumb.
Lee led Bobby through to the kitchen, and I was tempted to follow because I knew Lee would say something about me. But then the door opened again, and a bunch of old ladies swarmed the place like hornets, and I had to stay and help Tyler.
“Did you know there’s a mad goose tied up outside?” one of the ladies asked, fanning herself. “It’s a danger to the public!”
They weren’t from here if they didn’t know Lucille. Maybe Bobby had been right and a bakery would bring people to town.
“That’s the mayor’s goose, ma’am,” Tyler said with a grin. “Kind of the town mascot, right, Chase?”
Like he had any clue either, but he wasn’t wrong.
“Yeah,” I said. “A Goose Run institution.”
“Oh, good heavens,” said the old lady, but she said it in a tone of voice like she really wanted to say, What the actual fuck.
I gave them some free cookies to sweeten them up and stared pointedly at the tip jar. If I was going to get fired any second now, which I probably was once Lee had talked to Bobby, then I at least wanted to make some decent tips first.
But when Bobby came back out of the kitchen, he didn’t say anything about firing me. He just picked up his coffee, held it up in my direction in a kind of a toast, and said, “Yeah, I knew I had the right team for the job!”
Lee, who had followed him out, snorted. “Thanks for stopping by, Bobby.”
Lucille screeched again and Bobby said, “I promised Lucille a treat. Grab me a couple of those apple Danishes to go, Chase? She’s partial to apples.”
I bagged the Danishes and handed them over, and Bobby beamed at me and sauntered out the door. Tyler stared after him—which, again, was a common reaction to meeting Bobby for the first time. “And he’s the mayor?”
“Yep,” I said.
“And he owns the bakery?”
“And the gas station, and the Adventurama, and a bunch of other stuff.”
“And he has a lucky goose,” Tyler said slowly, like he was waiting for it to make some kind of sense. If he was anything like the rest of us, he’d be waiting a long time.
I glanced at the clock and saw that my shift was almost over—my paid shift, anyway. But because Lee was a hard-ass, I was going to be stuck here until I either figured out the stupid coffee machine or broke it completely.
At this stage it could go either way.
When I finally got to flip the sign from Open to Closed at two, I didn’t ball my apron up and throw it at Lee.
Instead, while Tyler worked the mixers in the back making whatever it was they needed to be ready at ass o’clock in the morning, I stood behind the counter and watched as Lee showed me how to work the machine.
“You have to preheat the machine,” he said. “Tyler and I start before you, so we’ll turn it on when we come in.”
I jerked my chin in a nod.
He pointed to the bits on the machine. “Steam wand. Steam valve. Hot water valve. Hot water spout. That’s mostly for teas. Okay, let’s start with the grinder.”
“Oh, I’m acquainted with Grindr,” I said, lifting my chin. “Are you?”
He didn’t take the bait. “You’re making yourself a macchiato. Put the beans in the hopper and select the size to grind them.”
“How am I supposed to know the grind size for a moccalato?” I asked, annoyed that he hadn’t reacted to the Grindr thing.
“Do you mean a macchiato?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Whatever.”
“Pick fine for the grind size,” he said.
The grinder made a bunch of violent noises as it did its thing, and I tried not to notice how close we were standing.
His shoulder was nudging mine, and I could feel the heat from his body.
I wondered if he was on Grindr. Not that I actually had an account or anything.
But if I did, and he did too, I wondered if I’d tap on his profile.
Like if I didn’t know about his personality, I meant.
Just, if he was my type physically. I thought that maybe he was.
I liked his dark hair and his light brown skin.
I liked that he was solid and chubby around the middle.
And I liked the way it made me feel when he was right behind me like this, close enough that a single step back would have me pressed up against him.
I just didn’t like anything else about him.
When the grinder stopped, I wrenched the portafilter free and jammed it into place on the machine.
“Not that one,” he said. “That’s the group head.”
Group head, seriously?
I removed the portafilter and put it on the other bit.
“Tight, but not too tight,” Lee said, checking it.
“That’s what all the boys say,” I said. “You know. The boys who come around for the group head.”
He gave me a look. “Now select the shot button.”
“I don’t know which one,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the machine.
“It’s a single shot for a macchiato,” he said, taking a cup and setting it under the portafilter. “So that’s the first button there.”
I pushed it, and the machine started to dribble coffee out into the cup.
“Now get some milk in the jug.”
Fuck, of course there was milk too. And of course Lee watched while I totally fucked up trying to use the steam wand. I reached out to move it, and he grabbed my hand before I could touch it.
“It’s hot, Chase.”
And now I was even more pissed because I felt like an idiot.
“Just move the jug up and down a bit,” he said, and I did. “Hear that? That sound tells you you’re doing it right.”
“That’s what my last Grindr date said.”
“Concentrate,” he said quietly. But how was I meant to concentrate when he was holding my hand in his and I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine?
His warm breath teased the side of my neck, and it took all my self-control not to tip my head back and expose my throat.
I wondered what kind of reaction I’d get from him if I did.
I kind of wanted to find out.
And now I was thinking about Grindr, and Lee and Grindr, and the fact that I’d jerked off to him—more than once now, because my brain and my dick had both latched onto him as my go-to fantasy when I needed to rub one out.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to straddle those thick thighs.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop.
“Okay,” he said, breaking into my fantasy, “now you put just a dollop of the foam on top, and you’ve got yourself a macchiato.”
I side-eyed Lee. “That seems too easy.”
“It’s an espresso machine, Chase,” he said, “not a space shuttle. Go on.”
I grabbed a spoon and dug out some foam. Let it drop with a splat on top of the little coffee. Stared at it, and then at Lee.
“Try it,” he urged.
I tried it and made a face. It was gross.
“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I don’t like coffee,” I said.
He blinked at me. “You…” And then he laughed. “Holy shit. You don’t like coffee!” Like it was the funniest thing in the world. “How are you even a barista if you don’t like coffee? How did Bobby even hire you?”
I met his laughter with anger, because of course I did. “I bet you told him to fire me, right?”
That shut him up. His smile vanished. “Why the hell would I be showing you how to use the machine if I told Bobby to fire you?” He stepped away from me, shaking his head. “Clean the machine before you leave.”
I glared at him.
He glared back. “I’ll see you at seven in the morning. Don’t be late.”
Asshole.