I couldn’t remember having been this distracted in my life, thoughts of our kiss intruding on bits of normalcy.
Dinner was actually less crazy than lunch, just the opposite of yesterday. With less than an hour to go, I’d even begun to start packing up a bit when I saw her.
It wasn’t someone I recognized, but the woman was just Beck’s type. Legs for days. Extremely pretty. And most of all, staring at him from the back side of the grill as if he were the next coming of Adonis.
I could have been wrong, but it seemed as if they knew each other. Which, since this was Beck, meant they “knew each other” in a very intimate way. Pretending to put away napkins in a big Tupperware bin, I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
Confirming the fact that they weren’t strangers, the woman reached down to the table beside Beck’s grill and grabbed his phone. She brought it to hers, tapped, smiled like she won the lottery, and put it back down.
I couldn’t watch anymore.
Heading back to the counter, I saw a new customer. Anything to take my attention away from what just happened. Less than twenty-four hours after Beck kissed me he was re-connecting with an ex, or a fuck buddy, or whatever. I didn’t know if that or me being wrong and Beck giving his number to a stranger was worse.
Actually, it didn’t matter.
“Can I help you?”
“I was here yesterday with my wife who asked me to grab two more of your pastries to bring home.” He pointed up to town. “Just closed my hardware shop for the night and figured I’d come down and see if you have any left.”
“Unfortunately we are out of them.”
I snuck a glance at Beck just as his “friend” was walking away. He turned to me and smiled.
Ugh.
I gave my attention back to the customer.
“Damn.” He looked up at the sign. “Where is O’Malley’s, anyway?”
“Cedar Falls,” I said with a smile, hoping it looked genuine since I was suddenly not in a mood to smile. Or socialize. Or be near Beck.
Truth was, for half a second, I had actually thought hard about Beck’s “people change” and “friendship isn’t a bad way to start” comments. Coupled with the revelation that one of their bachelor pact rules had been made for him, for us, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander.
Guess Mathieu wasn’t enough of a life lesson for me. I could kick myself.
“I don’t suppose you have them on the menu?”
It took me a second to re-focus on what we were talking about. Right. Tarte tatin.
Thinking back to Beck’s suggestion about getting them on there for a special, I put away my wounded woman hat and put the businesswoman one on instead.
“As a matter of fact, we’re going to have them on as a special for the next few weeks. You should stop by with your wife. Cedar Falls isn’t that far away.”
“It’s not,” he said. “I think we’ll take a day trip next weekend. Get someone to work for a rare day off. Thanks for the tip.”
“My pleasure.”
I should have been pleased with myself.
O’Malley’s food tent was a success. My pastries, which I loved making, were a hit. I had a client, as Beck kept calling her, which I supposed Ellie was. And more of a purpose than I had two days ago.
Except… him.
Angrily packing up, I tried, unsuccessfully, to cool my jets. Remind myself Beck and I weren’t a “thing.” It was just a kiss.
Except it wasn’t just any guy.
It was Beck.
