Page 19 of Big Girl Panties

She studied my face for a long moment, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Then Officer Rodriguez cleared his throat.

"Ma'am? Could you walk me through the café interior?"

"Of course," she said, then looked back at me. "Thank you, Matt. Really."

As I watched her follow the officer into the wreckage, I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through contacts.

By sunup, Brooke's café was going to have more help than she knew what to do with.

Chapter 8

Glass Hearts and Second Chances

I surveyed the wreckage that was once my adorable little café. It looked like a tornado had thrown a tantrum, leaving shattered glass and overturned furniture everywhere. At least Matt had gotten his crew here at the crack of dawn to replace the storefront window. Silver lining: my insurance deductible was only going to bankrupt me a little bit.

"Could be worse," I muttered, stepping over debris. "Could be raining."

Thunder rumbled overhead.

I groaned, feeling slightly defeated. "I did NOT just jinx myself."

I made my way to the kitchen, where Matt was wrestling with what used to be my industrial mixer. The poor thing lay on its side like a defeated robot. The bitter smell of spilled cleaning products mixed with the lingering aroma of baked goods made me turn up my nose.

"Need help with that?" I reached down to grab the other end.

"Nah, I've got…"

"OW!" Pain shot through my palm as something sharp bit into my skin, because apparently my life needed more drama. "Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Matt's gaze shot up as I snapped up, grabbing my hand as blood pooled in my palm. "Oh shit, you're bleeding." He dropped the mixer in his hands.

"It's okay, I'm fine." I brushed it off like it wasn't a big deal.

"Okay," he smiled, his gaze meeting mine. "But I'm still going to help you get this cleaned up, okay?" Smiling, I nodded. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

"In the office. Next to my How to Run a Business Without Losing Your Mind book. Spoiler alert: it's not working."

He turned, ripping a couple of sheets of paper towel off the roll before turning back. "Let me see."

Matt leaned in to examine my cut, and I caught a whiff of his cologne. My breath hitched, and I found myself acutely aware of how close we were. His fingers gently cradled my hand, and I wondered if he could feel my pulse racing beneath my skin. I moved my hand, and he placed the paper towel over the pool of blood. "Squeeze this." I curled my hand into a fist. "Looks like you probably cut it on glass."

His hands wrapped around my hips, and before I knew what was happening, he lifted me onto the stainless steel prep table, its cold surface a stark contrast to the warmth of his hands. "Stay here. I'm going to grab the first aid kit and get this cleaned up."

He disappeared for about a minute and a half before he returned. "Find it?"

He held up the red box before setting it on the table beside me. "All right, let's see what we have."

I put more pressure on the paper towel, hoping to stop the bleeding as my gaze swept over the room.

"You know, most guys would've run screaming by now. Crazy bleeding woman, destroyed café, general chaos everywhere."

"Most guys are idiots." He opened the kit and pulled out disinfectant. "This might sting."

"Story of my life."

As Matt applied the disinfectant, I winced. His entire demeanor changed. His focus narrowed to my injury, his movements becoming gentle yet efficient as he tended to my hand.

He cleaned my cut, and I studied his concentrated expression. "You know, I owe you an apology."