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“Didn’t say that. How much?”
I tapped in his coffee order on the screen and totaled it without saying a word. And then he was gone, leaving me wondering what was going on.
My first theory was that I’d just been a quick lay. What single man wouldn’t take the opportunity to have sex on his lunch hour? He hadn’t known until we were pretty far along that I was a virgin.
My second theory was more likely, though. We’d parted with a smile and a kiss, but he’d had second thoughts after leaving.
His wife died more than five years ago, he’d said. Maybe I’d been the first sex he’d had since. Or the best. Or maybe our chemistry stirred up emotions. He could even feel like he was betraying his late wife.
“You have everything under control here?” Tinley suddenly asked.
I looked up, surprised. I’d been working hard in the corner, trying to stay far away from the window.
“I should go too,” I said. “It really doesn’t make sense to stay here until eleven. These guys rarely spend more than a few dollars after ten o’clock.”
Tinley tossed her apron aside and stared at me, a hand on each hip. “Okay, now you’re avoiding the grumpy lumberjack. Something’s definitely up.”
“No, it’s fine.” I shook my head. “I’ll stay. Go back to the bakery.”
“Avoiding the convo.” Tinley shook her head. “I’ll let you off the hook this time. But only because Reese is showing me how to make apple fritters. See you back at the bakery.”
I wasn’t completely off the hook. She’d question me relentlessly once we were alone again. But I’d figure out how to deal with that once I made it through the next hour.
“Coffee girl, you in there?”
When I heard the male voice midway through cleaning syrup nozzles, my heart leaped. I wanted it to be Tucker. I wanted it with everything I had. But this guy was the one who liked iced coffee.
“Sorry.” Wiping my hands on my apron, I crossed to the window. “May I help you?”
“Some of us are dying of thirst,” he said. “Could you bring a load out to us? Thanks.”
I didn’t miss the hint of a smile. The request itself was weird. We offered free bottled waters as a courtesy, but they never had me exit the truck to bring anything to them.
I grabbed as many bottles as I could carry and headed out of the truck. The guys were gathered near the big piece of equipment that knocked down trees.
There were seven on this crew, and they worked their asses off. I didn’t doubt for a second they needed these bottled waters. What I doubted was that they needed me to bring them.
“Tuck, go grab those waters,” I heard Paxton say. That was followed by an order for everyone else to get busy loading fallen limbs onto a nearby trailer.
Tucker headed toward me, staring off to his left as he approached. He still wore sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but it was clear from his tense jaw that nothing had changed.
I thrust the waters toward him, planning to turn and walk away in a huff. But he didn’t take them. He just kept staring off to the left as he stopped in front of me.
“Yesterday was…” He hesitated, then finally faced me. “It was everything. But I need a little time. It’s too much.”
He shook his head. I pulled the bottles back. It just seemed awkward to keep holding them out.
“Your wife?” I asked.
It felt weird to call her that but saying “Your late wife” seemed insensitive. “Wife” implied they were still married. Being a widower had to be complicated.
“Yes,” he said.
I still couldn’t see what was behind those lenses, and I had a feeling there was plenty of emotion there. It certainly came through in his voice.
“At first, it seemed like no big deal to move on,” he said. “It’s been five years. You’d think I’d be over it, and I am. It just hit me weird last night, that’s all.”
He reached out, and for a heart-stopping moment, I thought he was going to touch my shoulders, maybe even pull me into a hug. But then I remembered I was holding a batch of bottled waters and his assignment was to take them from me. My hands were almost numb with the cold, and I hadn’t even noticed. That was how caught up in our conversation I’d been.
