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They were working insilence when his phone rang. Happy to do something to distract himself, Blake quickly answered his phone.
For the last few minutes, he’d been watching Lindsay and she was driving him insane. While concentrating, her tongue would flicker out and lick her lips before it disappeared again. At this point, his body was ready to explode.
It was the coffee shop across the street. They were short-staffed at the moment. Could he please pick up the lunch order?
Blake put his phone away. “Let’s lock up here and fetch lunch. The coffee shop doesn’t have anyone to deliver it at the moment,” he called out over the noise of the mixer Lindsay was using.
Not even looking up, she shook her head. “I can’t stop now. The shop is just across the street. It’ll only take a few minutes for you to fetch it. I’ll be fine.”
She continued mixing things even before she’d finished speaking.
Frowning, Blake stared at her back. He wasn’t going to get her out of here now, and they were both hungry. Damn it, he didn’t want to leave her. But she was right—he should be back within minutes.
“Lock behind me!” he called as he left.
As he crossed the street, an uneasiness settled in his gut, a telltale sign something was wrong. After scanning the street a few times, he finally walked into the shop.
The waiter behind the counter recognized him and lifted a package. “Here’s your lunch. Sorry about that.”
As Blake took out his wallet, he glanced out the window. Everything looked all right, but the little voice he usually relied on, telling him to hurry, was getting louder by the minute.
––––––––
Lindsay glanced atthe door. She had to lock it, but she was so close to finishing mixing this batch of shea butter and oils. By this time she knew exactly what consistency she wanted and if she stopped the mixer too soon, the content wouldn’t have the lovely fluffy and smooth texture her creams were known for.
Minutes later, she smiled. Now this was more like it. She switched off the mixer and dipped a clean finger in to touch. As she rubbed it into her hands, she caught a movement from the corner of her eye and quickly looked up. Frowning, she walked over to the window.
Nothing strange. She was so sure she’d seen something.
Rubbing her arms, she walked back to the counter where she’d been working. She was becoming paranoid.
––––––––
Blake glanced up anddown the street before he began to cross it. As he looked up, a car pulled quickly out of a parking space just a few meters from Lindsay’s shop and sped down the street—much too fast. His heart stopped before it nearly jumped out of his throat.
Repeating the plate number over and over, he clutched the bag and sped across the street.Lindsay.If something had happened to her during the time he’d been away...
As he rounded the corner of the building, he began shouting her name. “Lindsay! Lindsay!” He pushed at the door and it swung open.
She turned around, her eyes wide with trepidation.
“Why the hell didn’t you lock the door?” he bellowed as he marched towards her.
“Don’t yell at me!” she cried out, rubbing her arms. Lifting her chin, she picked up one of the many glass jars she used for the creams. “I wanted to finish the batch I was working on.” But her voice wobbled slightly and her hands weren’t quite steady.
Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm the thunderous beating of his heart. “Did you see something outside?” he asked, in a much gentler tone.
She opened and closed her mouth. “I was just being paranoid, I think,” she finally said.
An imaginary yet icy hand closed around his trachea. “Damn it to hell, Lindsay...” he growled, exasperated, and rubbed his face.
“Have you brought lunch?” she asked as she continued to spoon heaps of cream into jars. “I’m hungry.”
“What did you see, or think you saw?”
She motioned towards the one window. “Seriously, Blake, it was probably only my imagination.”
“Lindsay...”
