Chapter 2
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Lina
“Your hot brooding stranger is back,” Mika whispered as I walked out of the kitchen, powdered sugar still on my hands from helping Vivi with her latest creation.
I definitely didn’t feel my pulse jump. That would be pathetic. It had been exactly one week since Matthias first walked into my shop, and he’d shown up every single day since. Four PM. You could set a watch by him.
“He’s not my anything,” I said, wiping my hands on my apron while absolutely not looking toward the corner table.
“Sure. That’s why you’ve been checking the clock every five minutes since two-thirty.”
I ignored her and focused on the important task of straightening the display of bookmarks that were already perfectly straight.
So what if I’d noticed his pattern? It was my job to notice customer habits.
Purely professional interest in the man who ordered iced Americanos in October and read psychological thrillers fast enough to make me wonder if he was actually absorbing any of it or just really committed to looking mysterious.
He always took the same seat. Back to the wall, clear view of all exits and windows. I’d started thinking of it as his table, which was ridiculous. I didn’t assign seats in my shop. This wasn’t high school.
But when old Mr. Garrett had tried to sit there yesterday just at three-forty, I’d maybe guided him to a different spot with a comment about better lighting.
I risked a glance. There he was, already settled with today’s book recommendation and his usual drink.
Dark hair falling across his forehead as he read, one hand wrapped around the cup while the other held the book with surprising gentleness.
Every so often, his gray eyes would lift from the page and scan the shop before returning to his reading.
Twice now I’d caught him staring at the forest through the back windows with an expression I couldn’t read. It kind of looked like…worry.
The third time I’d caught him staring, it wasn’t at the forest.
It was at me.
“You’re staring again,” Vivi said, appearing at my elbow with a tray of freshly decorated cupcakes. Today’s theme was Halloween, because it was never too early to start. She’d made tiny wolves out of chocolate frosting, complete with fondant fangs.
“I’m not staring. I’m observing. Maybe he needs more coffee. Who knows?”
“That’s your excuse? Really?”
“Hey. I’m taking care of my customers. Besides, he could also need a new book, given how fast he’s been reading.”
He’d burned through three thrillers in seven days. At this rate, I’d need to order more just to keep up with his habit.
Mika snorted from behind the register. “Right. You’re so gone, girl.”
“I am not gone. I am a professional business owner who happens to notice when her customers might need assistance.”
“Is that why you wore lipstick today?”
“I always wear lipstick.”
“You literally never wear lipstick.”
Okay, so maybe I’d put a little more effort into my appearance lately. Sue me. Running a business meant looking professional. The fact that my new professional standards happened to coincide with daily visits from a man who could make leather jackets look respectable was pure coincidence.
I busied myself with rearranging the new releases, which definitely needed rearranging despite Mika having just done it this morning. From this angle, I had a perfect view of his table. Not that I was looking. I was working. Very professionally.
He turned a page, and I watched his eyes track across the text.
He read with total concentration, occasionally taking sips of his Americano without looking away from the book.
Once, his tongue darted out to catch a drop of condensation from the cup’s rim, and I had to turn away before my brain melted entirely.
What was wrong with me? I didn’t get crushes.
I especially didn’t get crushes on mysterious customers who might be serial killers according to Mika’s professional assessment.
The last time I’d felt anything close to this was in high school, and that had ended with me eating an entire pint of ice cream while Sarah held my hair back.
This was different though. This was... I didn’t even know what to call it. Every time he walked in, it felt as if my body developed radar specifically tuned to his frequency. I knew where he was in my shop without looking. I could tell when he shifted in his seat or turned a page. It was insane.
“Maybe he lives nearby,” I muttered, moving on to straighten the contemporary fiction section. “Maybe he works weird hours.”
“Maybe you should stop making excuses and just talk to him like a normal person,” Mika whispered-yelled, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.
“Says the woman who once hid in the walk-in freezer to avoid an ex.”
“That was different. Marcus was actually at my work. Your boy just comes here to read. Much less awkward potential.”
My boy. I wanted to correct her, but the words got stuck somewhere between my brain and my mouth.
Because the truth was, some stupid part of me had started thinking of him that way.
My regular. My four o’clock. My mysterious stranger who drank iced coffee and made me forget how to form complete sentences.
Christ, I needed to get out more.
I moved deeper into the contemporary fiction section, telling myself I was definitely not working my way closer to his table.
The afternoon sun slanted through the windows, and only a handful of other customers dotted the shop.
Mrs. Patterson reading in the poetry section, a college student buried in their laptop near the window, two women chatting over lattes.
I reached for a book on the top shelf, standing on my tiptoes. Whoever had decided to put the Z authors way up there was an absolute moron. Wait. That was me. Past Lina making current Lina’s life difficult, as usual.
My fingers brushed the spine but couldn’t quite get a grip. I stretched higher, probably looking ridiculous, when a voice came from directly behind me.
“Need help?”
I definitely didn’t squeak. That was a very professional sound of surprise, thank you very much.
Matthias stood close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his body.
Before I could answer, he reached over me easily, his chest almost brushing my back, and pulled down the book.
The scent of leather and a very distinctly masculine smell filled my nose, and I had to lock my knees to keep from swaying backward.
“The alphabet defeats me again,” I managed, taking the book with hands that absolutely weren’t trembling.
“Strange career choice for someone conquered by letters.” His voice had that whiskey quality that made my stomach do stupid things, but there was also amusement in it.
“I like a challenge.” The words came out breathier than I’d intended, probably because he was still standing close enough that I could see the faint stubble along his jaw.
When I turned, we were face to face with barely a foot between us. This close, I could see flecks of blue and gold mixed in with the gray of his eyes, I could count individual eyelashes if I wanted to catalog them. Which I didn’t. Because that would be creepy.
“Clearly.” His gaze dropped to the book in my hands, and his lips twitched. “Interesting reading choice.”
I looked down and wanted to die. Of all the books in my contemporary fiction section, I’d grabbed the one with a shirtless man on the cover.
Not just shirtless, but oiled-up, wind-machine-blowing-his-hair shirtless.
His abs had their own abs. There might have been a strategically placed sword involved.
“Oh, it’s... I’m just organizing them! It’s not for me. I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with reading...” I gestured helplessly at the cover model’s pectorals. “It’s just not my usual...”
“I’m sure.” The amusement in his voice was definitely not imagined now. “The character development is probably excellent.”
“Which character? The duke or his abs?”
The question popped out before I could stop it, and I immediately wanted to sink through the floor. But then something amazing happened.
He laughed.
Not a full laugh, more of a surprised exhale, but his lips curved into an actual smile. Brief but real, transforming his face from dangerous to devastating. A dimple appeared in his left cheek and my brain short-circuited entirely.
“Yes, very well-rounded.” I nodded, not sure what was coming out of my mouth right now. I was not in charge of speech, my mind was running on automation. “The abs, I mean. Characters! Well-rounded characters.”
Kill me. Kill me right now.
But he was still smiling that half-smile, and his eyes had warmed from storm cloud gray to something softer. “I’ll let you get back to your... book.”
He returned to his table with that same measured stride, leaving me clutching a romance novel about a duke’s abs to my chest while my face burned hot enough to brew coffee.
When I finally managed to reshelve the book and stumble back to the counter, Mika was grinning at me with pure evil in her eyes.
“Well-rounded characters?”
“Shut up.”
“The duke or his abs?”
“I will fire you.”
“No you won’t. I make the best lattes in town.”
She was right, but I didn’t have to admit it. Instead, I busied myself with cleaning the already spotless espresso machine while trying not to replay the conversation in my head. The way he’d said “clearly.” The warmth of him standing behind me. That smile.
God, that smile.
I was in so much trouble.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of customers and coffee orders, but I remained hyperaware of the man in the corner. When six o’clock rolled around and he stood to leave, I pretended to be deeply invested in the cash register when things took a turn.
“This is wrong!” A middle-aged man in a wrinkled suit slammed his cup on the counter, making me jump. “I ordered a half-caf, soy, extra foam cappuccino with exactly two pumps of vanilla. This tastes like three pumps!”
“I’m sorry, sir, I can remake-”
“Sorry doesn’t fix incompetence!” His voice rose, drawing stares from other customers. “Do you have any idea how much I pay for coffee here? I expect perfection, not this amateur-hour bullshit!”
My hands shook as I reached for his cup, but suddenly Matthias was there, stepping smoothly between us.
“I believe the lady offered to fix your drink,” he said quietly, but there was steel in his voice which somehow made it more threatening. “You’re going to apologize to her. Now.”
The angry customer puffed up. “This doesn’t concern you-”
“Wrong.” Matthias stepped closer, and the temperature seemed to drop. “It does. Everything about her concerns me. And right now, you’re making her hands shake. I don’t like that.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m telling you how this ends. You apologize, you leave, and you never raise your voice to her again. Or we can explore other options.” His smile was all teeth, no warmth. “Your choice.”
They stared at each other for a long moment before the customer’s nerve broke. He muttered something that might have been an apology and practically ran for the door.
“Thank you,” I breathed, still shaky.
He turned to me, and his entire demeanor shifted. “No one should ever speak to you that way.” The possessiveness in his tone should have scared me. Instead, it made my knees weak. “To anyone, I mean.” He cleared his throat.
I nodded, speechless, as he made his way out to the door.
“Same time tomorrow?” he asked, and there was something in his voice that made it sound less like a question and more like a promise.
“We’ll be here,” I managed.
He held my gaze for a moment longer than necessary, then nodded and left. The bell chimed softly in his wake.
“Oh. My. God. What the hell was that?! You are so completely gone!” Vivi said, emerging from where she’d definitely been eavesdropping in the kitchen. “And I don’t even blame you! It was so fucking hot.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said with as much dignity as I could muster.
“You’re going to apologize to her. Now.” Mika mimicked in a terrible attempt at his deep voice. “He’s gone for you, too. That wasn’t about coffee, boss.”
“Of course it was about coffee. We’re a coffee shop.”
“Right. And I’m sure he comes here every single day because we have the best Americanos in Pine Valley.”
“We do have good coffee.”
“Please. Do you honestly think he’s here for my iced Americano? The first time, maybe. But the following six days?”
If he wasn’t coming for the coffee, then he was coming for... what? The books? The ambiance?
Me?
The thought sent a thrill through me that I immediately tried to squash. I didn’t have time for... whatever this was. I had a business to run, a life that made sense, responsibilities that didn’t include daydreaming about mysterious men with gray eyes and perfect smiles.
But when I locked up that night, I found myself already planning what I’d wear tomorrow.
Just in case.