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“Is this seat taken?” Carter steps in front of me.
“Did you not hear me say I was on break? That means I don’t want to be anywhere near customers.”
“All the other tables are full.”
I look behind him and see that he’s right.
As if he thinks that fact makes it okay for him to be my company, he takes a seat across from me. “I’ve never seen you around here before.” He blows on his coffee. “How long have you been living in Blythe?”
I blink.
“Do I need to repeat the question?”
“I don’t share personal information with strangers.”
“Strangers?”
“Yes, i.e. people I’ve only seen once or twice, or assholes who like to make my life difficult by not adding sugar to their own coffee.”
“Are you normally this wound up?”
“Are you normally this chatty?”
“Chatty?” He leans forward and brushes a stray hair away from my face. “I’m not chatty. I’m intrigued.” He trails a finger across my cheek before leaning back. “Very intrigued.”
Silence.
“If you’re going to ruin my break by talking to me...” I try to think of something because I need to get him away from me for a few seconds. He’s a lot sexier than I remembered. “You could at least buy me a brownie.”
He smiles and heads inside, giving me a few minutes to breathe. Anyone I’m instantly attracted to is always trouble. Always.
“You have a very beautiful name, Emerald.” He sits down again and hands me two brownies.
“Thank you.”
“I take it that buying you brownies doesn’t make me any less of a stranger?”
“Excellent guess.”
“Hmmm.” He watches me take small bites. “Do you like your job here?”
“No.”
“That’s good. I don’t think customer service is for you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Someone like you should never be allowed to work directly with people—or any breathing organisms for that matter.” He’s grinning, and I want to laugh but I keep it inside. “How old are you?” His voice is serious all of a sudden.
“How old do you want me to be?”
“Legal.”
“Do I look like a minor?”
“No, but it’s always good to double check.”
“Young girls have been a problem for you in the past?”
He laughs. “You have a very smart mouth.”
“Pay me enough and I’ll show you what I can really do with it.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
I don’t back down. That’s one of Leah’s old lines—it used to net her an easy four hundred bucks, and I’ve often wondered what would happen if I ever used it.
“Are you propositioning me to pay you for a blowjob?”
“Is that what it sounds like?”
“It does.” He smirks. “It also sounds like you’re full of shit.”
I blink, and then I burst into laughter. “It was a joke.”
“So you are a child?”
I roll my eyes and stand up. “Whatever. Enjoy your coffee.” I walk away without letting him get another word out.
Sexy as hell or not, I don’t need an unnecessary distraction; I need to focus on getting out of this city.
Over the next few weeks, he comes in every day—at the exact same time, ordering the exact same coffee. He always lets his fingers linger against mine for a few extra seconds after I hand him his cup, and he always asks me a random question after he does his customary test sip: “What’s your favorite color?” “Are you having a good day?” “Why haven’t you quit yet?”
I almost start looking forward to seeing him every day—until he stops coming altogether.
Chapter 4
It’s raining again.
The days of bright sunshine and cloudless skies that I’ve been enjoying at the bistro are no longer here. They’ve been replaced with ominous gray skies, wild winds, and a torrential downpour.
The bistro is closed until later tonight—when the storm is supposed to pass, but the manager wants me to show up anyway. He says he needs to talk to me one on one about some new employee procedures.
It takes me a few minutes to realize that I still don’t know his name, so I look it up online before I head out.
Mr. Wes...Mr. Wes...Mr. Wes...
As I pull into the parking lot, I notice that there is only one car here: A gray pickup truck.
I park my car right next to it and pull out my phone—ready to call and ask why no one else is around. Before I can hit the call button, there’s a tapping on my window and I roll it down.
“Yes?” I see Mr. Wes holding a poncho over his head. “Why is no one else here?”
