Chapter 10 #3
If the missing siren women and children were being targeted—which, let’s face it, would be the only explanation for such a large number of missing persons—what was the motive? A hate group of some kind?
I was wrapping my mind around all of this, the significant amount of danger I was in, when Audrey stood up and clapped her hands together once.
“Alright. Let’s work on some basics for today to get you warmed up.” Audrey pointed toward the knife I was still fiddling with in my hands before she and Liam strode toward the exercise mats.
“What are you reading?” I asked Shane as I stretched my back out against the counter of my coffee shop. I started training with Liam and Audrey three days a week, and I was very much out of shape. I was getting better, though. I also managed to get a hit on Liam yesterday, which made my day.
I made sure not to stare at Shane as I asked him my question, because he conversed better without direct eye contact, so I focused on the parts of the espresso machine I had taken apart and was washing out before I took a stretching break.
“Sorry—I’ll stop and help you.” Shane rose from his seat at the table, closed his book, and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans. He trimmed his hair recently and let his stubble grow into a thicker beard.
He looked handsome. I was curious what inspired the new look, if anything.
“I’m not asking because I’m annoyed that you’re reading,” I clarified. Shane shrugged, stepping behind the counter to pick up a nozzle to rinse. “I’m genuinely curious about what you’re reading.”
Shane hummed, “A historical.”
I nodded. “What’s it about?”
Shane gave me his back and lifted his shoulder as his response. I would bet his next paycheck that it was a bodice ripper, if it was small enough to fit in the back pocket of his jeans and everything.
I ducked under the counter to glance for replacement parts right when the chime over the door to the coffee shop rang. Shane turned to attach the clean nozzle and raised his voice as he asked, “What can I get you?”
He must be in a good mood today if he is speaking in fuller sentences with the customers. Where the hell is that box? I got on my knees and started shifting boxes around next to him.
A woman’s voice answered, “A coffee.”
Shane replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice as he asked, “What kind?” What the hell? Was Shane flirting with a customer?
“Get whatever you want,” another man’s voice said. Awareness tickled my spine. Oh, he sounded attractive.
I scrambled out from underneath the counter, which probably wasn’t the sexiest thing to do, but I didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity. I popped up right next to Shane, tucking stray curls behind my ears, and smiled brightly.
My handsome stranger was back. He wore sunglasses, a dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, and slacks that had no wrinkles. Next to him stood a blonde woman who also wore sunglasses.
She was gorgeous. Tall, almost my exact height. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back in a half braid, and she wore a cropped blush tank top with a flowy skirt that skimmed over her sandal-covered toes.
My smile wavered a little bit at the sight of her. Shit, this was probably his date. I gave her a warm smile as I ignored the funny look Shane gave me for popping up so suddenly.
“The one he ordered last time is our most popular, by far,” I assured her. A pinch formed in her brow as she gave me a noticeably uncomfortable smile in return. She took a small step away from my handsome stranger to glance at our menu.
“That sounds good.” She nodded, turning to look at Shane. He rang up their order on the register, but before he could ask them for payment, I waved him off, “I got this.”
Shane lifted an eyebrow at me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” It was the least I could do, after thirsting over a man who was taken and all. He probably realized how hard I was flirting with him last time and didn’t want to come back until he could bring his partner. Sending a clear message that he was off limits.
I was a girls-girl first, so comping their order made me feel like I was apologizing.
“What? No.” The man stepped forward, reaching into the pocket of his slacks to pull out some crisp bills. “I’m going to pay.”
I suppressed a shiver from the command in his voice. It sounded so soothing.
I waved him off and said, “We’ve had a busy day, enjoy the treat.”
The man frowned before glancing at the tip jar and shoving the bills inside it. Shane was already making their drinks, watching this exchange out of the corner of his eye. The woman had stepped down to the counter, curiously studying the way that Shane mixed their coffee order.
The man stood at the counter, daring me to remove his money from the tip jar. I shrugged and turned, helping Shane. The man’s shoulders relaxed, and he followed his date down to the opposite side of the countertop, where their drinks would be picked up.
Shane and I worked in silence, as he preferred. Once the order was done, I took both cups and slipped the cardboard cozies onto them to help protect their hands.
“Here you go.” I gave him my best shit-eating smile.
The woman smirked as she sipped her drink and led them to one of the tables by a window. Before the man could sit down, he huffed and marched back to the countertop.
“Problem?” I asked with an innocent expression.
In response, he held up the bills I had snuck out of the tip jar and tucked into the cardboard cozy of his drink.
“Look, man.” I sighed and laid my palms flat on the counter.
“I know it’s important for your big, masculine ego to show your date that you can afford to pay for things, but I promise you it’s not that deep.
It’s getting weird now.” He quirked a dark eyebrow at me, the corner of his lips tipped up with it as he leaned on the counter, resting one large palm on the wood surface.
“She’s not my date,” he said. My heart started beating rapidly in my chest. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Shane turn his head to look at the woman sitting quietly at the table.
“Okay.” I lifted a shoulder.
I will not drool over a man.
I will not drool over a man.
“Okay,” he replied. After a moment of intense eye contact—if you could even call it that while he was wearing sunglasses—he reached across the counter.
His hand was slow and confident as he slowly reached for my chest. I held perfectly still, too curious about where this was going.
The man tucked one large finger into the breast pocket of my apron, pulling it open just enough for him to slide the bills into the fabric.
Heat scorched my cheeks. His smirk kicked up a notch, probably noticing the visceral reaction that move triggered in my body.
“You win,” I murmured. When he leaned back, I had to dig my fingertips into the countertop to keep myself from leaning after him.
He chuckled, drumming his fingertips on his side of the counter as he rested his other hand on his hip. “What do I win?”
I pressed my lips together as I snuck a glance over at the woman sitting at the table. She wasn’t watching us; her gaze was focused on Shane, who was wiping down tables.
If he said she isn’t a date…
“What do you want?” I asked.
I couldn’t track his eye movement, but the subtle tip of his head and the way he inhaled let me know that he was perusing me. Studying my entire body.
I quickly sent a silent prayer up to the sky for good measure.
Please, if there is a deity out there, please let this GQ model of a man know where the clit is. If I hook up with one more man who doesn’t know how to get me off, I will literally burn this shop to the ground.
During my prayer, the man’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline, and I wondered what he was thinking as he pressed his lips together in thought.
He was about to open them to say something right when the back door was thrown open, causing a loud bang to echo in the shop.
All of us jolted at the sound, so I turned toward the back hallway just in time to see Emma storming in and throwing her bag down on the counter.
“Whoa there.” I rested a hand on my hip to look at my employee.
“What’s with the ‘tude?” Before she could sneak back into the kitchen, she turned to look at me.
Her eyes were red-rimmed. Tears had already streaked down her cheeks, smudging her mascara as she glanced at me.
She wiped a hand under her nose and continued into the back kitchen.
Shit.
I glanced back at my handsome stranger, whose name I didn’t even have yet, and lifted my finger up at him. A silent command to wait. Then I followed Emma back into the kitchen.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I asked in a softer tone. She was angrily tying her apron on, sniffling and agitated.
“Brody cheated on me.”
Ugh, men.
“What an ass.” I stepped up and threw my arms around her shoulders.
She didn’t finish tying her apron. She gave up entirely as soon as I wrapped her much smaller body into my own.
Dysregulation wasn’t a fun thing to experience.
I hated that some tool would think to cheat on sweet Emma, but I wasn’t surprised.
His name was Brody. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see this coming a mile away.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured as I squeezed her tighter. She sniffled and managed to wrap one arm around my waist. Emma was only a couple of years younger than me, but I loved her. She started working at my shop fresh out of high school, and I considered us friends as well as colleagues.
Ten minutes passed with me consoling her, double-checking that she was able to work her shift today.
I wouldn’t have blamed her if she couldn’t, but she insisted that she needed something to do, so she didn’t focus on Brody.
When I finally emerged from the kitchen, I visibly frowned when I saw that my mystery man and his not-date had disappeared.
“They left?” I asked Shane, who was back to reading his paperback.
He nodded, not bothering to look up from the pages. His dark brows pinched in thought as he read.
I groaned. “Dammit, I was confident he was going to ask for my number this time.” Emma, still with excellent timing, emerged from the kitchen right as I said that. Her wide eyes and pouty lip were hurting my heart.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
I shook my head and pointed at her. “Don’t you dare. It’s fine. If he’s interested, he’ll be back.”
She sniffled. “Are you sure? I feel so bad—” I shook my head and gave her another side hug and squeeze, before continuing on with our workday.
God, I hoped he’d be back.