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As the place started to fill up, Jeanette let out a contented sigh. She loved Mondays. It was her busiest day of the week. Everyone needed the extra boost to get through the day. The door chimes sounded again, signaling another customer. She tried not to look, but her eyes seemed to have a will all their own.
Jeanette stopped writing and peeked at the front door. Her heart sped up. Motorcycle Man’s large body filled the doorway. He was staring straight at her. As his lips tilted up in a half grin, Jeanette’s temperature spiked. God, the man was hot.
His dark, wavy hair curled up at the ends and made her want to reach out and play. The hard line of his jaw seemed to sport a permanent five o’clock shadow. Today’s T-shirt was heather grey. It stretched over a hard chest and impressive six-pack abs. Jeanette had a distinct notion she could bounce a quarter off those abs. The faded jeans cupped his sex in the most scrumptious way. Jeanette imagined peeling them down his thighs. She’d want to take her time, reveal all that smooth, hard flesh by small degrees. As her gaze took in the scarred black biker boots, she noticed them move. She looked back up and realized he was striding toward her.
Jeanette straightened in the stool and forced herself to look at his face. His eyes narrowed as he closed the distance between them. In all the time he’d been coming to her café for coffee, she’d never spoken to him. She’d always ached to be the one to serve him, but she wasn’t a waitress nor was she that daring. In her heart, she knew any attempt at conversation would be disastrous anyway. She’d end up tripping over her words, or worse, getting clumsy like she usually got around handsome men.
He came to stand in front of her until only a few feet separated them. As he planted his hand on the counter and leaned in, Jeanette’s mouth went dry.
“You,” he growled.
“W-what?”
He looked down her body until his gaze snagged on her chest, and he licked his lips. “I want you to serve me.”
God, did she ever want to serve him. Jeanette squashed the wayward thought and stiffened her spine. “I’m not a waitress. Cory can—”
“No. I want you, not Cory, or I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
Her heart beat so hard she thought surely the man could hear it. “Elsewhere?”
He stood to his full height and crossed his arms over the muscular chest she’d been admiring for the last six months. “There are other coffee shops.”
And never see him again? Not a chance. She moved off the stool and smiled up at him. “I’ll be glad to serve you.”
“Hunter,” he inserted as he stepped aside to let her move around him.
Jeanette stopped and looked up at him. Jeez. Just how tall is he? Definitely over six feet. She felt positively tiny in comparison. Wait, he’d said hunter. He wanted to tell her he hunted? Maybe she’d heard wrong. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
He pointed to his chest. “My name’s Hunter Trace.”
“Oh.” She laughed. “I’m sorry. I thought…never mind.” She brought him to his usual table and waited for him to sit. “Your usual this morning, Mr. Trace?”
“Yes, and please call me Hunter. And you are?”
“Jeanette Williams.”
“I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Jeanette.”
He smiled finally and Jeanette stood there, just basking in the glow. His smooth, deep voice caressed all her erogenous zones. Too late she realized she hadn’t moved to place his order.
“I-I’ll just go get your coffee.”
“Hurry back,” he murmured.
It took every ounce of her meager self-control not to fall into his lap and beg him to take her right there in the middle of The Coffee House.
Watching the coffee shop owner walk had become one of Hunter’s favorite pastimes. Her jean skirt and loose-fitting yellow blouse couldn’t even begin to be sexy, but Jeanette had curves, enough that she bounced a little when she moved. It mattered little what she wore, Hunter still loved watching that teasing jiggle.
Not for the first time, he imagined her naked, her ass raised up for him to pet and fuck. He couldn’t understand his fascination with the pretty brunette. She avoided him like the plague and he still came back for more.
When she moved behind the counter to get his coffee, he sat back and smiled. She’d been trying to foist him off on one of her employees, but he wouldn’t have it. It was time they finally met. Time he made his move. As she poured his usual decaf into a mug, he nearly groaned though. Damn, he liked coffee, but he sure as hell didn’t love it. He’d had more coffee in the last six months than his entire life.
Jeanette picked up the steaming cup and came toward him. She blushed a little when she noticed him staring. Yeah, he liked coffee, but he didn’t have a craving for it the way he did one elusive brunette.
She placed a napkin on the table and the mug on top of it. “Was there anything else I can get for you?”
What a loaded question. Fuck, if she only had a clue what he wanted from her she’d run screaming. Hunter made a point to look around the near-empty café before saying, “How about some company? You don’t appear too busy at the moment.”
