Chapter 11
Bea
Bea was so inspired by Cal that the short story she’d begun – in which an American writer meets a Scottish barman and they end up in hot and steamy circumstances – was flowing onto her keyboard.
Her regular writing residence was the coffee shop in which she’d found herself on her first day in Edinburgh, and where good things happened.
After all, this was the place she’d bumped into her delectable muse, although in the story she had loosely changed his name to Hal Hunter to protect his identity.
The plan was to publish the story to her website as an apology to her fans for not being around during her vacation, and to give them a taste of the novel to come.
Craving another coffee, Bea turned to the counter to see what the queue was like. And that’s when her heart shot into her throat. Standing right next to her was Cal Butler, his clear green eyes piercing her own.
‘Morning,’ he said, in his low Scottish burr that sent a river of warmth like whisky straight through Bea.
‘Hey! Good morning!’ Bea could barely mask the delight she felt, particularly as she was thinking about Cal so much that he had almost become a fantasy figure in her mind.
‘I wasn’t sure we would ever meet again.
Would you, um … like a coffee? A seat?’ Bea then inwardly cursed herself for being giddily over the top in the face of his reserved coolness.
‘I’m not here for coffee.’ Cal said flatly.
That’s a great line, thought Bea, imagining her protagonist saying it before sweeping up the heroine and taking her to bed.
She gazed at Cal and wondered if he could read her thoughts.
Then she remembered the story on her laptop and pulled the lid down gently in case he should spot some incriminating evidence.
‘I’m here to see if you might still be available to come and work for me.’ Cal shuffled a little. ‘I’m having a few staffing problems. It’s the busiest time of the year, and I could do with someone experienced.’
Oh wow! This was unexpected yet amazing.
Bea wanted to jump up and whoop with delight.
She would get to work with Cal Butler after all.
It would make for some great writing; some wonderful experiences; some amazing…
Okay, so she might be jumping the gun a little to expect that she would sleep with him, but how was a girl meant to not imagine that? He was so utterly…
‘Well?’ Cal was staring at Bea expectantly. ‘Are you available?’
Bea snapped out of her daze.
‘Um, yes,’ she said. ‘I am. I mean, I was planning to spend the evening writing and taking a nice bubble bath, but I can do those things tomorrow night.’
‘Right, okay.’ Cal did that shuffling thing again. Had the image of her in a bubble bath crept into his mind? Bea hoped so. She’d love to share a big tub of suds with this guy.
‘Would you be able to come in around five so I can show you the ropes before things get busy around seven?’ Once more, Cal had pulled Bea out of her little fantasy. ‘And to do some paperwork. Bring your passport and other ID.’
‘Can do.’ Bea tried her best to be a little more professional. ‘Is there anything in particular I should wear?’
Cal glanced over Bea’s skinny black jeans, pastel-lemon blouse and black sneakers combo. ‘What you’re wearing now is fine. I’ll give you a company shirt to wear though.’
A hot pulse thumped through Bea as Cal’s eyes hit her chest. He wasn’t inspecting her breasts.
She’d had enough sleazy men ogling her to know when that was the case.
But, for a moment, his vision was right there and it made her flutter with excitement at the thought of his gaze feasting on what was beneath her clothing.
Marvellous things really did happen in this coffee shop.