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And I would’ve blamed it on the alien romance series I’d been working my way through on my Kindle while on the beach if it wasn’t for the fact that dreaming about the shadow man touching me… it was like coming home for real.
Like greeting an old friend I’d somehow forgotten about.
Before I got with Tyler, I would have dreams just like that one occasionally. Always with a hulking male figure that was hidden in the shadows, who loomed over me while touching me as if I’m precious. He never spoke except to grunt as he touched me, kissed me,fuckedme. Not sure what it says about me that my dream guy keeps his mouth shut, puts my pleasure first, and hides in the shadows so I can’t see his face, but it was a welcome change from obsessing over that stupid book.
Even if the glimpse I got of my shadow man last night hadhorns…
Lucky for me, a cold shower washed away the lingering heat rushing through me when I dragged my weary and aroused body out of bed. By the time I was pulling the door open to The Beanery, all I was thinking about was whether I wanted the plain croissant or the chocolate-filled one for breakfast.
The Beanery is bustling. Nearly all of the tables are filled this morning, and the three baristas behind the counter are rushing back and forth. Tasha is handling all of the food, Lisa Ann making the drinks, and Derek is handling the register, taking orders and passing drinks and pastries over to the customers.
I join the line, checking the time on my phone. I have fifteen minutes until I have to open the shop. With this crew working like a well-oiled machine, I’ll be unlocking the door with plenty of time.
Before I know it, it’s my turn.
“Hi, Derek.”
Derek works most mornings at the coffee shop. He’s cute, almost reminding me of a puppy. He’s got these big brown eyes and soft curls the same shade. A couple of years younger than me, he’s a friendly guy that I’ve gotten to know courtesy of my frequent trips next door.
He smiles at me. “Hey, you! I thought you weren’t going to be back until Monday.”
Me, too, Derek. Me, too.
“What can I say? I guess I missed Jericho too much.”
“Or your bookstore,” he teases. “So what can I get you this fine Saturday morning? You want your usual?”
Large coffee, no milk, six sugars. “That would be great. And a chocolate croissant if you still have them.”
“Warmed up?”
“Yes, please.”
“No problem.” He enters my order into the register, calling out, “Chocolate croissant, Tash. Hot.”
“On it!”
“Okay, Ken. That’ll be $7.12.”
Derek is the only one I’ve ever met who calls me ‘Ken’. Sometimes I think the boyishly handsome barista is as charming ashethinks he is, but whenever he uses that nickname, I almost want to ask him if he’s seen Barbie around somewhere.
I can’t stand it, but after how disappointed he looked the first time I corrected him, I let it go. Besides, I’m an old pro at keeping my grin from wavering, concealing my feelings when I have to. That comes from being the disappointing oldest child, I guess, or maybe it’s because of how most people—even strangers—treat me as way more innocent than I ever was because of my appearance.
Besides, something else he said caught my attention. My ‘usual’ he called it. And while, yeah, that’s definitely my usual order, it reminds me how I’m not the only repeat customer The Beanery has.
After tapping my debit card against the card reader, paying my bill and adding a couple dollars’ tip for the baristas, I glance over my shoulder. No one’s joined the line behind me.
Good.
“Hey, Derek?”
Because he also noticed that the rush had died down a little, he grabbed a large cup and started pouring the coffee in, helping Lisa Ann out with my simple order.
His eyes flicker up at me as he fills it up. “Yeah?”
“I’ve got a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
