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The first few times he came into Deja Brew, I’d fantasized about him staying past closing, then bending me over the counter, and having his way with me.
Alright, fine.
I had that fantasy just about every time he came in.
Probably the only thing keeping me from making it a reality was that I literally couldn’t afford to lose another customer. Andwe all knew how squirrely men could get when shit got physical, and they thought you were going to get all clingy.
Also, he was someone who came and parked. And he was dealing with a pretty severe coffee addiction. This meant he typically drank four to six cups when he was around. And some pastries too.
Because of him, I also had a couple other regulars as well.
So we weren’t going to bang.
As much as my body wept over that reality each time he came in.
“Haven’t seen you around in a while,” I said as I moved over toward the counter.
“I was out of town,” Junior admitted, sounding like he hadn’t enjoyed it.
“What can I get you?” I asked.
“Looks like you’re ready to close up,” he said, disappointed.
“It’s been slow, so I figured I would go… get some errands done while the stores are still open,” I told him, only partially lying.
Technically, I did have an errand.
One I dreaded every single month.
My stomach had been rolling so hard all day that I’d been popping antacid tablets since my eyes first opened this morning. I had them stashed in my apron, each step making them knock around inside their bottle.
I couldn’t even have any coffee all day, worrying the caffeine might make me even more wired than I already was.
One perk to shipment days was the nerves had me scrubbing every square inch of the shop. You could eat off the floor in this place.
“I’m gonna need a tray then,” he told me, reaching behind his back to pull out a giant stainless steel travel thermos. And then another. “Both of these,” he said, unscrewing the caps.
“Hot or iced?” I asked.
“You trying to get rid of the iced?” he asked.
“Yeah, actually. It’s garbage otherwise.”
“Then fill them up without ice. And I’ll take a third large one with ice. And one hot.”
Well, this day wasn’t a total bust after all.
“Pulling an all-nighter?” I asked.
“Fucking work never lets up these days,” he admitted, walking to the side to check out the pastry display. “I’ll take all the donuts, too,” he said, waving at them.
The other pastries would last another day. The donuts got too stale. He was doing me a huge favor by having such a sweet tooth.
“You good?” he asked, keen blue eyes watching me as I poured his coffee. There was no mistaking the tremble I had in my hand.
“Yeah, fine,” I lied.
I was either a shitty liar, or he was just good at reading people, because his brows pinched at that.
