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COLTON
As soon as I entered Max’s bar the other night, I sensed her presence. I was drawn to her goodness and light. Her inattention used to drive me crazy, but now that I was getting to know her better, she wasn’t as flighty as I thought. She was focused on other things like yoga and meditation.
I was skeptical, but who could argue with her sunny disposition and calm demeanor? Instead of it repelling me, it made me want an excuse to be closer to her. But why had I agreed to help her with her juice, especially when I wanted to taste her?
I wanted to make her smile, to have a connection that went beyond her sister.
Pausing in front of the juice shop with the sign that stated it was closed, I wondered what I was doing here. Was I betraying Delilah?
By the time I officially broke things off with her, we’d drifted apart. Delilah seemed relieved, but maybe I’d misjudged the situation. I had no idea what she told her sister.
Not seeing anyone in the store, I texted Remi.
A blue couch sat in front of the window, a sign that read Peace, Love, Juice hung over it, and a large chalkboard hung behind the counter with the menu written in brightly colored chalk. I read the headings Cold Pressed Raw Juice and Five-Day Reboot before Remi appeared, a smile spreading across her beautiful face.
She unlocked the door and pulled it open for me while wearing a brightly colored apron that said Remi’s Juice Shop over a red T-shirt and white shorts.
Turning around, I saw that her shorts cupped her ass. I wanted to palm one globe, squeezing and feeling her muscles under my hand. Would her skin feel warm, or would I heat her with my touch?
She raised a brow. “Are you coming in?”
Clearing my throat, I moved past her. “Sorry, long day.”
“Any leads on the break-ins?” she asked, closing and locking the door.
“It’s been quiet.” I’d spent the day coordinating resource officers with the local schools.
Her shoulder brushed mine as she walked behind the counter. Fruit, yogurt, a container of whey protein, and a blender sat on the counter.
“Want something to drink before we get started?” Remi asked me.
“You have water?” Glancing around the space, I could see it was spotless.
“Of course.” She pulled a bottled water out of a fridge, twisting off the cap and setting it in front of me.
I drank the cool liquid, hoping it would soothe my dry throat, but knowing nothing would stem this growing attraction to her. I had a feeling if I touched her, I’d just want more.
My gaze dropped to her lips, which were tinged with a glossy coating I wanted to lick off.
She looked at me with a hint of insecurity in her blue eyes. “I’m not sure what taste to expect. I’ve never made any smoothies with whey.”
“The amount of whey is what’s important. Someone who’s interested in building muscle is paying close attention to the amount of protein they’re consuming in a day.” I turned the container of whey to show her the amount needed for each gram of protein.
“Does flavor matter?” Remi cocked a brow as if I’d offended her.
“I don’t think the flavor matters for men as much as it does for women. It doesn’t have much of a flavor unless you put too much in. Most smoothie places only add five to ten grams.”
“I don’t want to provide a product that has a small amount of protein, though. I’d want to give bodybuilders what they want.”
“You’ll want at least ten grams, then. If you can get the right ratio of protein and the flavor is off the charts—”
She smiled, and my heart clenched at the sight. “Then I’ve got something.”
“Yeah.” I loved that she wanted to create the best product she could. That she wanted to appeal to more customers. Remi was passionate about her business, and I respected the hell out of that.
She pushed the container of whey toward me with a measuring cup.
I measured it, then poured it into the blender. “Use whatever ingredients you normally use, and we’ll see how it tastes.”
