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Flipping over a mug, she fills it with coffee and sets it on my paper placemat. Coffee pot back on the warmer, she glances over my shoulder at the only other person in Poke the Yolk.
“Be right back.”
I follow her with my eyes as she sidles up to his table and pulls out her order pad. The older gentleman peers up at her over his reading glasses, ignoring the newspaper in his hands. A gentle smile stretches across his face, deep wrinkles settling around the corners of his mouth and eyes. I fail to hear their exchange, but glimpse the fondness in his expression as she jots down his order.
Small moments such as this are what I love about Stone Bay.
It’s obvious he comes in daily and knows the staff. The ease with which they talk is as if they’ve known each other for years. As if they are family. Wouldn’t surprise me if he waited for the door to unlock each morning. Wouldn’t surprise me if he sat at the same table every day for hours, sipping coffee and chatting with other townsfolk.
Kirsten leaves his table, taps his order into the kiosk, then comes back to stand across from me.
“You’re here early today.”
I curl my hands around my mug and bask in the warmth. “Couldn’t sleep.” Lifting the mug, I sip my coffee and meet her waiting stare.
“Are you… okay?” Her brow furrows, a deep crease settling in the middle.
The impulse to tell her I’m fine rests on the tip of my tongue. The last thing I want to do is upset her and cause unnecessary anxiety. But I bite my tongue and swallow past the need to sugarcoat reality.
With a subtle shake of my head, I admit, “No. Not at all.”
She reaches out and wraps her fingers around my wrist. When she tightens her hold, I stop breathing. Her eyes fall shut, a mix of agony and elation etched in her expression. The buzz from earlier feels minuscule compared to the current now dancing beneath my skin, the fire scorching my veins.
Damn… has anything ever felt this intense, this monumental?
No. Never.
I release my grip on the mug and slowly twist my wrist, capturing hers in my hand. Gaze locked on her still-closed eyes, my thumb caresses her skin in slow, hypnotic strokes.
So soft. So fucking perfect.
Her stormy eyes blink open and meet mine, more blue than gray, as she holds my gaze. She doesn’t say a word as her pulse pounds beneath my fingers. Neither do I. And it’s our silence that speaks volumes.
She feels it too.
With a soft clearing of her throat, the corners of her mouth turn up as she loosens her grip. “You know I’m here if you need anything.” Her voice is scratchy yet soft.
Inch by painstaking inch, she withdraws her hand. But as her fingertips dance over mine, she grips them once before disengaging fully. Immediately, I miss her touch. Miss the fire she ignites on my skin, in my veins, in my soul.
As the daze of her touch fades, I become keenly aware of the swell behind my zipper. The deep ache in my groin. From one simple touch, she has my mind, my heart, and my body begging for more.
Clasping my mug, I focus onherand not my throbbing cock. I cradle the mug in my palms and nod. “Thank you.” My fingers absently trace the cup handle. “The last two days have been… grueling.”
Eyes on me, she fiddles with the salt shaker. Perhaps something to distract herself. “I imagine so.” A strained smile tugs at her lips as she spins, spins, spins the shaker. “My friend, Skylar, and I got lunch at the deli yesterday”—her hands still—“and it was so… bizarre to see the town empty.” She laughs without humor. “Like everyone is on self-imposed lockdown.”
I finish the last dregs of my coffee and sigh. “The quiet streets are good and bad.”
“How so?” She reaches behind her, grabs the coffee pot, and refills my mug.
“Thank you.” I tip my head toward the mug. “Good because there’s less people to watch. And bad for the same reason.”
She hums, the soft sound almost indiscernible. Her eyes lose focus as she stares at the counter and gets lost in her thoughts.
Rapt, I allow my own mind to wander. Think of the case in a big picture way rather than in the fine details.
Chief limited the number of officers working on the case, hoping to thwart gossip and minimize hysteria in town. But no one in the department was shocked to learn half the town knew of the woman in the woods within hours of the call. Mighty as they are, the gossip mill spreads the news faster than the flu. And before the sun set on Stone Bay, the sidewalks and businesses were desolate.
“It’s early, but do you want something to eat?”
