AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If they were alone and Bennett was up for it, I’m sure Harper would let him bend her over the countertop.
I’d sanitize the hell out of it.
I still might. I swear her self-proclaimed “horny vibes” or pheromoans—yes, that’s how she told me to spell it—are like the common cold: contagious and inconvenient. Just thinking about that has me eyeing my sanitizer from across the room.
“Your total is $3.50,” Harper says. She waits for him to swipe his card before rushing off to get his coffee.
With the transaction nearly complete, I rise. Bennett’s gaze flickers to mine. It’s brief, hardly a full second, yet I freeze.
The coldness radiating from his blue eyes has always affected me this way, from my first encounter with him in the courtroom several months ago and every time thereafter.
I suppress a shiver and lift my chin, focusing my attention on the pastry display. Once I’m behind the counter, I keep my eyes downcast as though my apron is the key to my survival or a shield against Bennett’s piercing gaze.
Just as he takes a seat across the room, the door opens, and a large group of customers walk in. A blessed distraction, cutting through the tension in the air. Those who arrive for the brunch rush don’t trickle in, which would give us enough time to serve them without inciting their impatience. Nope, they herd themselves inside like cattle and immediately overwhelm the space with a long line.
“Welcome to the Sugar Cube,” I say. “What can I get for you?”
After taking several orders, each person more growly than the last, I don’t bother with the greeting. Even my “hellos” are less heartfelt and cheerful.
I stare up at the current customer to ask him for his order and the words melt on my tongue. The man resembles a grizzly bear with his unkempt hair and the wild look in his eyes. His clothes, a plaid shirt and ripped jeans, are riddled with stains. That alone has me leaning back, as if the filth on him will leap across the counter and taint me. Well, more than I am already.
I eye the sanitizer with longing.
If I thought I could squirt some on him without it being offensive, I would. Although I’m not sure it would make a difference. I know it doesn’t help me feel any cleaner, no matter how many times I sanitize my hands.
“I want an Italian BLT panini and a black coffee,” he says. “This better not take all damn day either.”
His harsh tone combined with my already frazzled nerves has me shaking. The feeling of exhaustion is normal, but the apprehension is new. Harper hands me his drink, and I rush to put a sleeve on the hot beverage to keep from burning myself.
Only I miss the bottom of the cup. My sharp movement causes the coffee to spill all over my fingers. I jerk back with a yelp when the coffee sizzles against my skin, the burning liquid spreading all over the counter—and partially on the customer.
Harper peers over at me from the espresso machine as I wipe my hand on my apron. The room doesn’t go silent, but the conversations all around me becomes muffled, drowned out by the thrumming of my pulse in my ears.
The man slams his hand against the register and leans forward. I blink up at him. With every sweep of my lashes, the muscles in my body tighten until I’m a coil of tension, ready to spring.
Although I never held a job before my father’s untimely death, I’d never been ignorant of how life worked outside of the estate grounds. People experience emotions, both high and low, and I’ve encountered them. However, this type of behavior isn’t something I’m accustomed to.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouts in my face.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the minor burns on my fingers already forgotten. “It was an accident.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
Harper frowns and lifts her foot to march over while my bottom lip trembles. Anger churns within my gut at this man’s disrespect, but what frustrates me the most is my lack of power. I won’t say anything because I can’t afford to lose my only source of income. But it’s not just that. If this altercation shifts from verbal to physical, I will be in danger. Actually, I might already be in trouble.
“Apologize.” The deep voice next to me is calm, yet dark and foreboding, like that of an executioner. “Now.”
Everything goes quiet except for the sounds bleeding in from the street outside. It’s like a vacuum has sucked the air from the room. My breath stills in my lungs, and my body trembles with the effort to breathe. I shift my attention from the threat in front of me to the one beside me.
Mr. Bennett.
He stands so close that the heat from his body sinks into my clothing, warming my skin. My blush is instant. Even so, I can’t look away.
He doesn’t glance at me. Not once. “If I have to repeat myself, things will become…unpleasant.”
The customer sputters, disbelief shining through his narrowed eyes.
Bennett shrugs off his coat and holds it out to me. Dazed, with my lips slightly parted, I stare up at him. His face gives nothing away. But his eyes… they’re glacial, twin shards of ice polished to a lethal gleam.
