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“No, it’s fine. Rest your foot until the ibuprofen has kicked in. I can do it.” He grabbed his bagel and walked behind me to see if he could figure it out.
I had fifty bucks that said he wouldn’t be able to.
I took another forkful of pie into my mouth right as he said, “How the fuck do you work this thing?”
Laughing, I swung my foot off the stool and took the few steps to the machine. “Well, this fancy thing here is called the ‘on’ button.” I hit the button that held the universal symbol for ‘power.’
“No shit,” he drawled.
“Then you check the coffee beans, which are half full and okay because I filled them a couple days ago,” I carried on, checking the settings and talking him through that, too. “Then, you put a cup under, hit this button, and voila. A cup of coffee.” I pressed the button triumphantly, and the machine sputtered to life, spitting hot liquid into the mug I’d set there.
Chase slowly turned to me. “That is the most complicated coffee machine I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“How is it complicated?”
“It just offered me twelve different types of coffee! What is it, a walking Starbucks?”
I touched my hand to my chest. “Twelve? And you think I’m dramatic? Oh my God, it makes four types. Americano, espresso, cappuccino, and latte.”
“It may as well ask me if I’d like vanilla syrup or whatever the hell that shit is they put in to ruin perfectly good coffee.”
“Would you like vanilla creamer in it?”
“You serve that crap?”
“Have you ever tasted it?”
“No,” he said slowly. “Why would I ruin perfectly good coffee with it?”
I blinked at him. “It doesn’t ruin coffee. It makes it pretty good, actually. And it’s not my fault if my coffee machine is in the twenty-first century while yours is in the stone age.”
“I don’t have a coffee machine.”
“How don’t you have a coffee machine?”
Chase shrugged. “I serve ice cream, not coffee.”
I stopped him before he could grab his coffee. “Next you’ll tell me you don’t even do milkshakes.”
“Why the hell would I serve milkshakes? It’s not like I can make them like you do.”
“Dear God, what kind of ship are you running next door? Is it controlled by pirates? That’s the hot mess that’s been stealing my customers?” My jaw dropped.
“Hey!” He gently jabbed me in the side of the stomach. “Pirates steal. It’s not my fault I’m winging it.”
“I can’t believe people have left me for a disaster that doesn’t serve coffee or ice cream!” I grabbed a dishtowel and whipped him with it. “You’re running a joke of a store! Oh my God!” I whipped him again with the towel.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He darted backward with his hands up, moving farther into the store. He crossed into the kitchen much faster than I could, and by the time I got close to him, he had a towel of his own and had it poised to whip me back.
“No, no! Don’t you dare!” I hobbled back, turning so I didn’t trip and felt the sharp sting of the towel as it snapped across my ass. I yelped an, “Asshole!”
“Payback!” He caught me again before I could turn around.
I was quicker than him this time, catching across the middle of the stomach, and I couldn’t stop my laughter. I couldn’t imagine what we looked like, him chasing me and me hobbling backward through the store.
Thank God the blinds were down.
Chase shot the towel out at me and missed me by an inch, his smile briefly turning to a grimace of frustration.
“Ha!” I shouted through my laughter, whipping my towel at him.
I missed, but he didn’t.
He grabbed hold of the towel and pulled me toward him. I almost caught my toe, so I finished on a hop, making me wobble. He reached his arm out around my waist to steady me, and I took a deep breath as my body rested against his.
My hands flattened against his chest, the towel still wrapped around my fingers, and he was still holding the towel, too. His breath was hot and fluttered my hair, making my heart beat faster.
His was doing the same. My fingers were resting right where his heart was, and I could feel it pounding against his ribs.
Chase slowly released my towel. He brought his hand up to the side of my face where he pushed my hair back behind my ear with two fingers, leaving a blazing trail of heat across my cheek and along the edge of my scalp.
I tilted my chin up, and our gazes met. There was laughter in his eyes, but it was mixed with a swirl of emotion and hesitancy that clenched my heart even harder.
I wanted to reach up and rub my thumb across his jaw. I wanted to feel the roughness of his stubble against my skin.
