Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Bryn
I look up from the computer and stretch. I yawn and glance at the time. Bloody hell, it’s damn near two o’clock. I worked straight through lunch. My stomach growls as if trying to remind me to pay some attention to it.
I look at my phone. And realize I've missed ten texts. I frown, swiping to see who texted me.
Jesus.
Alec.
Alec: Bryn, for the love of God, will you bloody well answer me?
I blink in surprise. Alec and I broke up over a year ago, and I can't believe he’s still going on about things. What on Earth does he want?
I scroll up to read the rest of his messages.
Alec: Things aren’t the same without you.
Alec: I miss you.
Alec: Our favorite song just came on the radio and it made me all tearful. Please, sweetheart, come back.
I cringe and make a disgusted noise out loud. We didn’t have a bloody favorite song, and any man who lets a fucking song make him all tearful should be castrated. Nasty.
I was raised by Banner Aitkens. My brothers, father, uncles, and cousins are the alpha males of the Scottish mafia.
And though I hate almost every damn one of them, I've come to appreciate an alpha male. Can’t really help it when it’s all you know.
They don't cower when the going gets tough.
They don't whimper when things are hard to do.
I can't abide anyone less than a real man, and never have.
I delete the texts and block Alec from my bloody phone so he doesn’t harass me again.
There’s another text, this one from Ines, and it makes me smile.
Ines: Wait until you see what I found today! The most adorable little pair of strappy heels I’ve ever seen.
I smile and text back.
Bryn: Did you buy them??
Ines: Um, OF COURSE I DID. And got a second pair for my bestie, too. xxx
I grin.
Bryn: Can’t wait to see them.
I slide my mobile into my bag and head to the door.
I need something to eat so I can finish my work, and I’m not leaving here until I’m done.
I give a parting smile to the little shop I’ve purchased with my own hard-earned money, not a penny given to me by my father.
Not that he’d approve of a boutique like mine anyway.
A light breeze stirs around me, dry leaves on the pavement circling my ankles, as I walk toward The Lucky Leaf, the local salad bar.
My heels click on the pavement, and I blink at the bright sun.
It’s a gorgeous day, but I haven’t noticed since I’ve been stuck inside.
I’m just on the verge of finishing the biggest commission of my life. This could be it, the big break for me.
Just as I reach the front door, a large, seriously hot bloke grabs the handle and opens it for me. I pause in surprise, honestly a bit dazzled.
One might say I’ve lived a sheltered life. I’ve never run into a bloke like this.
He’s tall and handsome, with blue eyes as vivid as the summer sky. The boyish look of his tousled hair is set off with a scruffy beard and powerful shoulders, massive arms, and… Jesus, fucking everything.
“After you,” he says warmly, and I won’t lie, the way his arm muscles ripple when he opens the door makes my heart flutter a bit faster. His voice is deep and velvety, and does unexpected things to my belly. I swallow hard, reminding myself to keep it together.
“Thank you.”
Wow, is he gorgeous. I wonder if he’s a boxer or something, he’s got that kind of build.
Large and muscled, his forearms are thick and corded, revealing ink that peaks out from his shirtsleeves, thick and black around his neck as well.
He wears a scruffy beard that gives him just that edge of dominance that makes my heart beat a little faster.
“Very kind of you,” I say, giving him a smile as he takes his place behind me in the line. “It’s a rare treat when someone remembers to hold the door for you. It seems sometimes chivalry’s gone the way of the Knights of the Round Table.”
He frowns, one of those scowls that makes my heart do a somersault. He reaches for one of the takeout trays, and hands me one as well.
“My father raised me to have manners. Always said a gentleman never goes out of style.”
I smile. “I like that.” And it’s bloody true.
He reaches his hand out to take mine. “Name’s Mac. And you?”
I smile back. “Bryn.”
His blue, blue eyes look more vivid when set off against the stark blackness of his hair, his eyes framed in long, long lashes. The look in his eyes makes me squirm in the very best possible way. When he grins, he’s got a dimple in his left cheek.
Swoon.
I try to get myself together. I face the salad bar just for something to do and grab the tongs. I begin to nestle chopped greens in the bottom of my bowl.
“Try the chicken,” he says, as he takes his place on the other side of me. “They grill it themselves, right here on the premises. It’s excellent.”
I wince. “Thanks, but I’m a vegetarian.”
He winces. “No meat?”
I smirk at him. “Only on days that end in brYN.” I place sliced peppers and chickpeas atop the bed of lettuce, loving the vivid rainbow on my plate.
Next, I sprinkle on feta and olives, as Mac piles his plate high with the grilled chicken.
There’s so much chicken on the plate I can’t see any greens, which for some reason I find amusing.
“The alfalfa sprouts and baby kale are also excellent,” I say with a wink.
He winces like I just struck him. “And I thought I was doing well with the veggies alongside my buffalo chicken.”
I look at his plate, where he’s got three celery stalks beside a mammoth pile of blue cheese dressing.
“Seems your wee celery stalks might drown, though, no?”
He rolls his eyes and flexes his muscles. “Protein fuels the muscles.”
Something is definitely fueling his muscles.
I’m not immune to the power of seduction, especially when those baby blues are twinkling at me that way. God, his arms are as big as my thighs.
A girl could get wrapped up in arms like that and feel safe.
“Well, that’s why they call it a salad bar, though,” I say with a wink. “You can have whatever it is you like, and I can have whatever it is I like.”
He nods sagely. “Aye. I’ll have what bloody tastes good, and you can have the rabbit food.”
I snicker at that and slide my plate up onto the scale by the counter to pay.
“Anything else, miss?”
“Aye, I’ll have the daily smoothie as well, and one of the energy bites, please.”
Freshly squeezed juice and brightly colored smoothies are nestled into a tub of ice by the register, alongside little containers of raw energy bites. They make them right here on the premises with raw nuts, honey, and little carob bits.
The cashier nods. “Absolutely, miss. Thank you. Will that be for here or takeaway?” She rings me up, and I pay for lunch.
I hesitate. I was planning on taking this with me back to the shop so I could finish my work, but I hesitate. Mac’s checked out, heading to the drink line where he can fill his cup from the variety of drinks. On a whim, I change my mind.
“Here, please.”
He intrigues me. I find a vacant table to the far left, beside an open window, and slide my tray onto the table.
Normally, I place my bag on the seat opposite me, so nobody sits down with me, or even near me.
That is, if I even take the time to eat inside, instead of eating back at the shop.
But this time, I put my bag on the seat beside me, leaving the seat across from me vacant.
I don't know Mac from Adam, and I'm not sure why I want to. Men have only caused me heartache, in one form or another. But still…
I look at my lunch, as I open up the little cello-wrapped fork. But the whole time, I’m casting surreptitious glances toward Mac. Will he come and join me? Should I invite him? I take a sip of my smoothie, trying to figure out what I'm going to do.
I may give the illusion of being confident, but I'm actually woefully self-conscious. I second-guess everything I say and do, and always have. Nothing I did growing up was quite right. Still isn’t. And I suppose that can mess with a girl’s head.
I try to play it cool. I look at my phone, pretending to check social media. I fork a bite of salad, and take a large bite, washing it down with sips of smoothie. I start to feel a little more awake, now that I’m actually eating something.
I look back up toward the drinks, curious what's taking Mac so long.
My heart sinks. He’s gone.
With a sigh, I take another sip of smoothie to hide the suddenly weird emotions that overcome me. Does he flirt with everyone? Or did I misjudge the entire situation, thinking he was even flirting with me?
I continue eating my salad in silence, nursing dejection, when a deep voice catches my attention. “Is this seat taken?”
I look up, my heart soaring in my chest at the sight of Mac, his hand on the chair across from me. He gives me that grin that makes my belly flop.
“Sorry,” I say with a pretend sad smile. “That one’s reserved for my imaginary mate, Stella.”
He blinks, and his brows shoot up, then he sobers and shakes his head. He places his plate down in front of me, then lifts the chair and pretends to empty my imaginary friend right off it.
“Out you go, Stella,” he mutters. “My imaginary friend Brandon’s hitting on women at the pub across the way, go tell him to behave himself and buy you dinner.” He does a little shooing motion, and I can’t help but giggle.
He folds himself into the chair across from me with surprising grace for such a big bloke, and smiles at me. I’m wiping my mouth with my napkin, still giggling.
“Poor Stella, how’d you know she hasn’t had a date in a decade?”
He winks, and my heart does funny, fluttery things.
“Just had an inkling, you could say. But I’m glad she left so I could sit with you.” He grimaces at the rainbow of colors on my plate. “How’s that salad?”
“Delicious,” I tell him with a flourish. I take a large bite of veggies to underscore my statement. “And yours?”
He swallows a mammoth bite of chicken, crunches a piece of blue-cheese-dipped-celery, and grins.
“Excellent. So tell me, what brings you here today?”
I nod toward my shop up the street.