Chapter 1 #2
Carmen grabs Felix’s cup and turns around to fill it with coffee. She turns back and sets it on the counter. “First refill is free,” she answers in a quick, clipped tone, before stepping to the side behind the counter and crouching down to count something on the lower shelves.
Like defenders swarming me on the ice to shut down an attempted breakaway, I feel the window of opportunity slamming closed.
Distracting her more while she’s doing her work would just be obnoxious. I head back to our table.
Felex leans over the table toward me after I set his cup in front of him and retake my seat. “Well?” he asks, eagerness on his face. I swear, sometimes I think Felix is as invested in me getting closer to Carmen as I am.
I shrug, not wanting to reveal just how enthused I am to have gotten a minuscule piece of personal information from her. I’m aware of just how pathetic it is. “Well, I found out she likes snow.”
Sebastian nods his head slowly, a skeptical arch on his brow. “Hm, that’s … something. I guess.”
“Plenty of things you can do with that,” Felix says, and I can already hear the teasing in his voice. “Like bring her a big box of snow as a gift. She’ll love it.”
I roll my eyes.
“Or you could get here before one of her shifts and build a snowman for her beside the door.”
Carter raises his brow at Veikko from across the table. “Damn, Veikko. Didn’t know you were such a romantic under that robotic exterior.”
“An ember of passion flickers deep in my chest, ready to be stoked to a roaring blaze, but it is rarely accessed.”
The way Veikko delivers that unexpected line in his flat monotone has every pair of eyes pointed at him, surprise and wonder splashed on our expressions. Maybe it’s in my head, but for a second I sense an unreadable expression ghosting over Felix’s face as he looks at him.
“Veikko, have you been raiding Sebastian’s Shakespeare collection?” Felix asks after shaking it off.
“I have not yet read Shakespeare in English. Why do you ask?”
The rest of the guys keep talking, but I tune them out again, instead watching Carmen as she walks across the shop to the front door.
When she passes our table, I let my gaze fall to her backside.
Her ass is framed so beautifully in her dark jeans that all I can do is close my eyes and shake my head. Have mercy.
When my eyes open, Carmen’s standing in the doorway, propping the door open with her shoulder as she talks to a delivery guy. He holds out a paper for her to sign, and quickly tugs it back after she does so.
“Sorry, miss,” the deliveryman is saying, his voice full of hurry, “but the snow’s gonna start any minute, and I gotta double-time it if I’m gonna make my deliveries before these roads become undrivable. You’ll have to bring the boxes in yourself today.”
Before Carmen can respond, he’s already racing back to his delivery van and hopping into the driver’s seat.
Carmen’s face twists as she looks down at the stack of big, bulky boxes.
I can help her.
I shoot up from my seat so fast that I lift our table with my thighs. Cups clatter, liquid spills over mug edges, cell phones slide across the tabletop; in general, I make an embarrassing racket just trying to stand up.
I can skate around the ice and handle a puck with style and finesse, but I somehow turn into a clumsy oaf whenever I’m here at Last Word while Carmen’s on shift.
Ignoring the reactions of my teammates, I rush to the front door, where Carmen’s angling a nonplussed look at me thanks to the clamor I’ve made.
“I’ll help,” I say, my brow raised and my voice perky, feeling entirely too much like an over-eager puppy.
A skeptical, almost distrustful look swims in Carmen’s brown eyes. It’s like she’s not used to someone offering her help, and her default response is to wonder what exactly the catch is.
Then she glances back at the stack of boxes.
They’re big, and I can sense how heavy they are.
With Carmen’s small frame, I have no idea how she’d get them through the door and all the way to wherever they need to be.
One thing I do know is that there’s no way I could sit down and watch her struggling to try.
“Come on,” I nudge. “You telling me you really think you could get those boxes in all by yourself?”
Her brow lowers. There’s a flash of defiance on her face. But there’s also a flicker of recognition in her eyes. There’s only so much arguing you can do against physics.
“I guess …”
Carmen draws out the two words slowly and reluctantly, and that’s in stark contrast to how quickly and enthusiastically I spring toward the boxes, stooping down and hefting up the top one. They are heavy, but I don’t put all that gym time in for nothing.
“They’re lighter than they look,” I say with a grin, hoping that maybe my strength impresses her.
The roll of her eyes tells me it doesn’t.
“Just put them behind the counter, I’ll unload them from there,” she says. I’m about to hop to it when she halts me by adding, “And, umm … thanks.”
It feels like fireworks are going off in my chest. A big, goofy grin splits my face from ear to ear. “Don’t mention it.”
Carmen stands holding the door open for me, so I rush back and forth, wanting her to get out of the cold as soon as possible. Already, wispy flurries of snow are starting to streak through the frigid air. Carmen steps in behind me after I lift the last of the three boxes.
“Wait, look out—”
By the time I register her warning, I’ve already stepped on something, and it shifts under my foot. All my weight is on that leg, and I totally lose my equilibrium.
Suddenly, every step is a fight to keep my balance.
I lurch from one end of the shop to the other, juggling the box in my hands, bumping into chairs and tables as my tilting bodyweight pulls me in the direction of the counter.
I do a three-sixty spin when my feet get tangled, just barely managing to keep the box from flying out of my hands and falling face-first onto the hardwood floor.
By the slimmest of margins, I avoid smashing into the glass display case showing off pastries and sandwiches. I sway to the side and thread through the narrow opening that leads behind the counter.
In doing so, I have to do another rotation. The back of my heel catches on the piece of wood that marks the threshold between the work area behind the counter and the café floor.
The last tenuous thread of my balance snaps, and I plop down on my ass, somehow still clinging to the box.
I look up to see my teammates standing by the table, craning their necks at me. Then Carmen swims into my vision, her eyes wide. “Jamie, are you okay?”
My butt probably hurts. I’m sure it does. I fell way too hard, and this wood floor has no give. But I don’t notice it, because all I can focus on is the fact that this is the first time Carmen’s ever uttered my name.
I’m pretty sure I could lose a finger and not feel any pain if Carmen were looking at me with her coffee-colored eyes wide like this and saying my name.
“I’m fine,” I answer, moving my hips and back a little to make sure there’s no sharp stab of pain indicating an injury.
“Are you sure?”
I place the box down at my side. “All good.”
“You’re really sure?”
I smile, shooting her a thumbs-up while still seated.
A beat of silence passes as she continues to look at me with concern … and then she laughs.
My jaw drops. Electricity dances up my spine. Buzzing warmth swells behind my chest.
Her laugh is a sweet, warm, twinkling sound, and I think I could die a happy man just having been able to hear it. It’s like warm honey in my ears, suffusing through my body and making me feel like I’m floating instead of sitting sprawled out on the worn hardwood floor of a coffee shop.
“Sorry,” she says, wiping at her eyes. “You just … should’ve seen yourself. It was like a cartoon.” She bites back her laughter before asking again in a more serious tone, “You’re sure you’re okay?”
Alright, so hurting myself makes her laugh. Maybe I can use this to my advantage.
“Absolutely,” I say, springing up deftly to my feet.
At least, I imagined doing it deftly. In reality, I bump the back of my head on some shelving while getting upright. I rub the stinging spot under my hair, beaming a reassuring smile and another thumbs up at Carmen while I do so.
Her lips twitch for just a second, but then the usual flat, grumpy expression washes back over her. “Thanks,” she says, her voice clipped again. “That was helpful.”
I feel like the grin on my face could power the electricity in the place for a week. “Don’t mention it.”
“Jamie!” Carter calls from our table, where all the guys are tugging their jackets on. “Get your clumsy ass over here, we’re going to get some lunch.”
Their concern for my well-being warms my heart.
Carmen’s already slid past me, busying herself with unloading the boxes and putting the contents wherever they need to go. As usual, it didn’t take long for me to drop out of her attention.
But as I shrug on my jacket and catch up with the guys who are already piling out the door into the thickening snow, I’m not discouraged.
She said my name. I heard her laugh. That’s a start. A tiny one, but better than nothing, which makes today a breakthrough.
Carmen’s the first girl I’ve ever met who’s given me the feeling that she might be her. I’ll be damned if a couple months of the cold shoulder can make me give up on the chance of that.