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ChapterOne
LACY
I’d seen a lot of nice cars in my line of work. Mercedes, Lexus, even a Maserati or two. Luxury cars weren’t totally unheard of in the part of Chicago I worked in. Normally, I’d roll my eyes and look away from the ostentatious display of wealth, but not tonight. Nope, tonight that sleek, gorgeous black Maserati MC20 was driven by a sex-god that stepped out of the vehicle with a glance around the area that told the world he owned us all and he knew it. My little heart skipped more than one beat.
My eyes flicked to a small television screen. The black and white display of the security footage for the gas station—both inside and out—showed me that I looked the same as always. Long blond hair in a ponytail, without a stitch of makeup on my face. My top was hidden by a long white t-shirt with the name of the gas station emblazoned in gaudy yellow and green on the back. The shirt was so big it hid my slim waist, hugged by black jeans. I looked like I was about twelve years old, even though I’m twenty-two. There was no way was the luscious devil outside was going to look at me twice. I wasn’t anywhere near the bombshell type of woman he’d date.
Still, a girl can fantasize all she wanted to. That brought a smile to my face.
I watched as he stepped away from the car, dressed in a dark navy three-piece suit, the kind of expensive loafers that screamed Italian leather--even if I’ve never seen a pair of Italian leather loafers in my life--with a face that would make angels weep with joy. Or lust. Maybe both, I thought with narrowed blue eyes and pursed pink lips.
My teeth nibbled at the inside of my bottom lip as I waited, hoping he wouldn’t pay at the pump but would come inside so I could get a better look at him. Rather than lifting one of the fuel nozzles, the man walked around and headed straight for the door.
My jaw nearly dropped as he came in, looked around, then headed for the coffee stand to the back of the store. Now why would a man like that want the swill we served at this place? And at this hour of the night?
I was gnawing at the inside of my lip again when he turned around to stare at the snack options. I doubted there was anything there a man with such a lean but definitely muscular body would eat. You didn’t get that kind of powerful body from eating Twinkies or Doritos.
I felt my face blanche when he turned around and caught me staring at him. His lips twitched in a smile that could only be called knowing, a smirk really. I felt my throat close up and my brain regressed into something I’d call non-functioning with each step he took towards me. One very stupid thought came to my mind out of the soup my mind had turned into as he came closer. What did he smell like?
Did he smell as good as he looked or would the man that looked to be in his late twenties smell like pond water? That would be such a let down if he did.
My mind went back to its blank sanctuary as he sank his free hand into thick black hair, his dark brown eyes focused only on me. The hand came down, his eyes smiled, and then he set the coffee down on the counter.
I stared, struck totally speechless at this point.
He looked back at me, his eyes curious, if slightly amused.
And, oh yeah, how did he smell? Fucking fabulous, that was how. I couldn’t describe it as anything other than warm and intoxicating, but then, my brain still wasn’t working so it’s not like I’d be describing it soon anyway.
Up close I saw the dark shadow around his jaw was the beginning of a beard, or perhaps maintained to give that slightly Tom Ellis, slightly Lucifer bad-boy look. He did pull the whole thing off expertly, I had to admit. Or I would if my brain would come back on.
Instead, I stood there, staring at him, taking him in like visitors to the Louvre took in the Mona Lisa—with rapturous wonder. I couldn’t have stamped the words ‘virtually innocent’ on my face any more plainly than I did with my stare.
I noticed his eyes on my chest and almost preened until I realized he was looking at my nametag.
“Um, Lacy? Are you alright?” I heard him ask, his voice slightly tinged with an accent I couldn’t identify.
Sure, we hear lots of accents in Chicago, people from all over the world live and visit the city, but I’d never heard anything like his accent before. It sent shivers of delight down my spine and my grin grew even wider. I loved the way he pronounced my name.
“S…sorry?” I finally asked, stuttering as my brain’s operating system chugged slowly back to life. It was like I was running Windows 95 up in there instead of Windows 10.
“What do I owe you for the coffee?” he asked with a gentle, teasing smile that sent my heart into overdrive.
“I don’t, um, pardon?” The words tumbled out without real meaning. The imaginary startup noise was still absent in my mind. No operating system found. Hardware failure, check all connections.
“The coffee,” he said with a gesture at the cup. “How much do I owe you?”
This time he pulled the smile back a little, as if being kind to the simpleton in front of him.
That’s when my brain lurched back to life, finally, and my eyes went wide with embarrassment. Shit, how do I recover from this?
You don’t,I thought as I tried to dredge up any kind of professionalism that remained in my stunned brain. “Um, don’t worry about it. It’s on me.”
I smiled the normalI hate you but you’re a customersmile at him, and then tried to backpedal into something less…cringe. I think it ended up somewhere in the insane category, but I was losing it again as my nose caught another whiff of his cologne and my knees threatened to give out on me.
Why couldn’t a man like this come into my life and sweep me off of my feet?
Damn it all.
