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For the most part, they’d run in silence. But it hadn’t been awkward. Much to her surprise, it had been quite comfortable. When there had been talking, he’d done most of it. He’d convinced her that until they figured out what was going on with the photos, she should drive to and from work. Though the distance was short—a little over half a mile—she’d agreed it was a risk that wasn’t worth taking, particularly since she walked the same route at the same time every day.
After a four-mile loop and a quick stretch, Joe had walked her into the house. Right when she’d begun to think she’d imagined the previous night’s intimacy—because he hadn’t evenhintedat it once during their entire run—he’d laid a kiss on her that had been so hot, so sexy, she’d expected to ignite on the spot. She’d even thought about calling in sick to see if she could change his mind about the whole taking-it-slow thing. Shenevercalled in sick. Ever.
Then he’d ended the kiss, said he’d stop by Comfort Food later, and taken off for some extra mileage.
Now here she was. Hours later. Her body flushed and aching from the mere recollection of their kiss. Her mind doing yet another play-by-play of the entire morning.
She sighed and glanced down at the bowl. Then groaned. Crushed blueberries. Again. She pursed her lips in thought. Looked like she would have to add macerated blueberries to today’s menu. Maybe over a lemon chiffon cake? Or maybe—
“Roxie?”
She startled when Alex peeked her head through the archway separating the kitchen and customer area. “Could you come up front?”
Holy crap. When had Alex even left the kitchen?
Roxie set the bowl of destroyed blueberries next to its twin. Wiping her hands on her apron, she headed to the front to join Alex and Sheila. “What’s up?”
“Oh Mylanta,” Sheila said. “It’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven. A heaven filled with delicious, yummy men.”
Alex frowned. “Uh, excuse me, Sheila, but one of those delicious men you’re referring to happens to be my husband.”
“Your point is?” Sheila asked in a dry tone. She arched a brow in challenge.
“Play nice, ladies,” Roxie said, cringing.
While Alex and Sheila were both famous for turning anyone into a friend, they clashed like oil and water when mixed together. It was the strangest thing. Alex was by far the friendliest, most patient, and most tolerant person Roxie knew, but there was something about Sheila that rubbed her friend the wrong way. The two simply didn’t mesh.
Since having Annie, Alex had come in a handful of times to help out when they’d been short-staffed. Every time, having Alex and Sheila work together had been awkward, uncomfortable, and beyond tense. In other words, a total disaster.
Roxie had made a mental note to make sure, going forward, that the women’s schedules didn’t overlap too much. But with Nina out, there wasn’t much she could do to mend the current situation. Alex and Sheila would just have to figure out how to deal with one another for the next few hours.
Scanning the seating area, she found the dreamy men in question: Quinn, Joe, Cade, Gavin, and Matt. The men were huddled together at the café’s lone six-top table.
“Oh my god.” Sheila sighed. “Who are those other two?”
Alex rolled her eyes. Hard.
“Gavin Frazier is the guy with brown hair,” Roxie said, pointing. “He runs Hudson Security—and before you ask, yes, his company employs a group of super-hot alpha dudes.” She could have sworn she heard the woman whimper.Good. God.“The guy with black hair is Matt Alvarez. He’s a friend of Cade’s. He’s a detective with Seattle PD, but he’s out on medical leave.”
“Great,” Sheila said, talking over Roxie’s last words. “Are either of them single?”
“Um...”Universe, please give me patience.“I’m not sure.”
Sheila’s response went unheard as Joe caught Roxie’s gaze. Without a word to the guys at his table, he rose and stalked toward her. Her pulse skittered at the predatory gleam in his blue eyes. He rounded the counter, winked at the other women, and snagged her hand. A hot flush stole up her face as more than a dozen prying eyes locked on them.
Unbothered by the attention, Joe led her to her cramped office. Once inside, he shut the door and pressed her against it. Before Roxie could catch her breath, his hands were buried in her hair and his lips were crashing down on hers.
Her toes curled. Bliss. Complete bliss.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. He stepped closer, removing any remaining space between them. His lips trailed over her jaw, then her neck, then her ear. A shiver tore through her. This man. He made her feel so alive, so wanted.
“Sorry,” Joe murmured, his breathing uneven. “But you looked so damn pretty standing there in your apron. I just had to kiss you.”
She smiled at him as her insides melted. And because she could, she tugged his head to her for another kiss.
After a while—it could have been five seconds or five minutes for all she knew—he released her with a groan.
“I should get back to the guys,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Do I have a stupid grin on my face?”
