Tegan
MY ORDER – ONE WEEK LATER
The hum of machines filled the air, along with quiet chatter. Aromatic scents of freshly brewed coffee, caramel, and the warm, sweet fragrance of Danishes coated the air with sugary sweetness.
I glanced around The Roasted Sip, and I saw a few people sitting at laptops around the coffee shop.
They were happily typing away. A couple appeared to be students, three looked like businesspeople, and two others, I couldn’t quite figure out what they were doing.
I wondered if one of them might be an aspiring author.
I smiled. I couldn’t wait for my bakery to open, and I wondered if people would also fill my shop as they sat around plugged into Wi-Fi while handling school, work, or other business.
We were on the cusp of downtown, right around the corner from the hood, and a few streets away from the financial district of Downtown Cherokee Springs.
I loved that this location allowed us to serve two very distinct clienteles.
I placed my order when it was my turn and then turned away to find a seat to occupy while I waited.
My phone buzzed as soon as I walked away from the counter.
I found a chair near the large windows where a table was fastened to the lower part of the wall.
I set my bag in my lap, swiveled around in my chair to face the outdoors, and removed my phone from my handbag.
It was my younger brother, Ethan, or Easy as we called him.
EASY: Baby, what’s going on with the launch party?
ME: What are you talking about?
EASY: Mama said ya daddy acting up and refusing to follow the plan. What plan?
ME: She’s talking about the all-white. Remember I said I’d to have my guys in all-white and my favorite lady and me in pink and white on that day?
EASY: Yeah.
ME: Daddy’s talking about he doesn’t trust them all-white parties. He said niggas get in trouble behind that. LOL!
EASY: Man, that nigga’s the trouble. Always showing out, but that’s my day . Getting him to wear all white ain’t nothing. That’s light work.
ME: Have you met your daddy?
EASY: Baby, why you think they call me Easy? I have that nigga eating out of the palm of my whenever I want something.
ME: Okay, keep telling yourself that.
EASY: Don’t underestimate your brother.
ME: I mean, if you can get your daddy to show up in all white, you can have one week of free coffee and one sweet treat a day for a month.
EASY: Baby, why didn’t you start with that? That nigga’s gon’ be there with all white all the way down to his draws.
ME: That’s more than I care to know. I’ve got Mommy her pink and white dress, so she’ll be matching me. Easy, make sure EJ does his part too. He acts like Daddy sometimes.
EASY: You know I’ve got you, Baby.
ME:
“Extra-large peanut butter macchiato with caramel and pineapple drizzle, whipped cream, and an apple turnover!” the barista called out.
I tucked my phone into my purse and walked up to the counter and grabbed my cup, but at the same time, someone else placed their grimy hand just above mine to take my cup. My lips turned down, and my face scrunched up.
“Excuse me. This is mine,” I declared.
“No, gorgeous. This belongs to me,” the rich, dark voice that matched its owner proclaimed.
I stared up into amused, almond-shaped, nut-brown eyes that twinkled in the light of the coffee shop.
He lifted a thick eyebrow, and his full lips, surrounded by a thick beard and mustache twitched in the semblance of a smile.
My core clenched when his nostrils flared with desire, causing his eyes to darken momentarily.
He was a good-looking man, almost a foot taller than me, with smooth, cocoa-brown skin. Twists curled on top of his head over a smooth, perfectly-lined fade. He smelled like heaven with the woodsy and cashmere scent he wore, and he sounded like pure sex when he spoke.
A cream long-sleeved T-shirt stretched over tight muscles and pressed against his stomach to show toned abs.
Brown denim jeans that matched the brown denim jacket he wore, sagged slightly, but showed off just a little of the definition of what appeared to be muscular thighs.
The best part of those jeans was the way they hugged his generous package.
I inhaled deeply, and I couldn’t help but hold my breath for several seconds.
When it was released, a little gasp followed it.
I slowly pulled my gaze back up to see the humor in his eyes.
“What’s that the ladies say? Eyes up here.”
I rolled my eyes. “I just like the outfit.”
“Yeah? Well, I like yours too,” he professed with a wink.
“Whatever. I just want my order.”
“You mean my order?”
“I don’t think so. I ordered the extra-large peanut butter macchiato with caramel and pineapple drizzle, whipped cream, and an apple turnover,” I argued.
“So did I, but we can resolve this easily,” he replied smoothly.
My eyebrows dipped down because I didn’t know a soul who liked that drink other than me.
I slowly released the cup as he spun it to look at the receipt.
The baristas weren’t paying us any attention, as they were filling the orders of the other patrons who waited.
There were several people in the shop at this hour of the morning as everyone was starting their day.
“Harlem.”
“What?”
“Harlem,” he stated, pointing at the receipt. “That would be me. They called it and my name.”
I frowned at the same time the barista called, “Tegan! Extra-large peanut butter macchiato with caramel and pineapple drizzle, whipped cream, and an apple turnover!”
“You must be Tegan. See. Great minds think alike, that’s all.”
His smile was easy and slow, and I struggled not to melt in a puddle at his feet. I mean, he was good-looking, but could my reaction to him be because I hadn’t had any sex in a while?
I twisted my lips and moved to the counter to grab my order. My morning had gotten off to a rough start so far, and it didn’t appear to be getting any better.
The electricity was off on our block, and I had to shower, dress, and get ready for work in the dark.
I stubbed my toe on the coffee table in the living room when I went to get my keys.
Not only had I hit my toe, but I cut it, and I’d had to put a bandage around my big toe and then change shoes because the heels I planned to wear kept rubbing against that toe.
That turned into an entire wardrobe change.
I was twenty minutes late leaving home, and one of my contractors cancelled on me, and then I’d been notified at the last minute that the inspector for one of the permits was coming by today. He wasn’t scheduled until two days from now, and I wasn’t sure that we were ready.
“Sorry about the mix-up,” I mumbled to Harlem, feeling foolish as I headed for the door. He beat me to it, opened the door, and held it for me. He smelled so yummy that I could barely think straight.
“It was the perfect way to be introduced to my new neighbor.”
“Neighbor?” I asked, stepping out onto the sidewalk.
He pointed across the street. “Aren’t you the new owner of Baby Got Buns?”
I blushed under the heat of his stare. There was something in the way that he said the name of my bakery that was so suggestive, like he was making a personal observation about me.
Now I was afraid that when I turned and walked away in my skintight pink denim jeans, he would be forced to observe if that statement were true.
I licked my lips, and his gaze dropped to my tongue and slowly roamed back up to my eyes.
“Yes, I am,” I replied nervously as I twirled my hair around one finger.
His gaze was unwavering, and the expression in it communicated interest, an interest I wasn’t ready for, but I was definitely flattered by.
“Mm . . . well, I’m the owner of Knox Cutz and Stylez.
” He introduced himself and his shop, pointing to a shop two doors down from the coffee shop and directly across the street from my bakery.
“Drop in the next time you need your hair done and check out the ladies who do hair. I’ve got some of the best talent in the city, and I’m willing to give you a new customer discount. ”
I smiled politely at him. “Well, I uhm, . . . have a stylist who has been doing my hair for years. Thanks for the offer, though. Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Harlem of Knox Cutz and Stylez,” I replied just before I took a step into the street.
He jerked me back in the nick of time as a car horn blew, startling me. “The light’s green,” he explained, nodding at the traffic light that wasn’t in my favor, let alone crossing in the middle of the street.
My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to regain my composure.
“That’s cute.”
“What?” I asked, jerking my gaze from the street to Harlem.
“That you blush when you’re embarrassed or uncomfortable. It makes your freckles stand out even more, beautiful.” He sipped his coffee as his gaze homed in even stronger on me.
“Uhm, thank you. I uhm, I’d better go,” I stated, realizing that he was still holding my elbow.
He didn’t appear to want to release me as he looked from my face to where his hand touched me.
“Be safe, Tegan of Baby Got Buns.”
My face went up in a flame of heat at that comment, and I rushed across the street, making sure that I checked the traffic light this time.
No sooner than I crossed the street and entered my shop than my phone rang.
“Palmer, hey, girl. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just finished my class, and I don’t have another one for another two hours. I was thinking about how I can’t wait for your shop to open so that I can pop by there in between classes.”
I laughed.
“Girl, didn’t you just finish a workout?”
“And did.”
“Then please tell me why you’re already thinking about packing the calories back on?”
“Same reason that you do. It’s not my fault that my best friend is the world’s best baker, and she makes irresistible treats that are fattening and delicious at the same time. Why you think I became a yoga and Pilates instructor?”