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Blake nodded, understanding. When he’d started coming into Dale’s, the first thing he’d noticed about Hannah was her rather timid nature. “Hell, I work with teenagers all week, so I don’t blame you. Some of them can be challenging.”
“That’s right. How does your program work, again?”
“We take judge-recommended juvenile offenders who have committed nonviolent crimes and teach them to train dogs in obedience. Most of the graduates have gone on to continue their education in animal health or work with animals at shelters and veterinary hospitals.”
“That is awesome. It’s good that you give them a chance to make better decisions with their lives. A lot of kids get lost in the system and never catch a break.”
The way she said it sounded personal, and he was genuinely curious about her.
“Did that happen to you?” he asked.
“Me? No. I mean, I was in foster care, but I was too young to remember. I was placed with my parents when I was just a baby, and they adopted me when I was three. But I did an internship at McClatchy High School, and some of the kids . . . You could just tell they’d given up.”
The vulnerable sadness on her face had him reaching toward her before he could stop himself.
As his palm covered the back of hers, heat radiated along his skin. He was completely aware of her; her sweet, fruity perfume, the flecks of gold in her eyes, and the way her lower lip was twice the size of the top.
He jerked his hand back and knocked his hot coffee back onto his lap and front.
“Shit!” The loud curse carried as he stood up, cringing as the painfully hot coffee soaked through his jeans to his thighs, lower abdomen, and dick.
His stomach rolled against the pain, and he fought back the urge to hurl.
“Oh my God, Blake, are you okay? Come on.” She picked up her purse and took his arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Oh, hell no, if his hand caught fire just touching her skin, he could only imagine what her cleanup would do to him.
“I’m okay,” he said hoarsely.
“Are you sure? That coffee was really hot, and it’s all over your . . . well . . . ”
Several snickers close by let Blake know that they had drawn an audience, and he sucked in a deep breath as he straightened.
“I’m good. I should be going, though.”
“Oh, okay. Well, it was good catching up with you. I guess I’ll see you at the diner.”
“Yeah, sure. See ya.”
He picked up the empty coffee cup and threw it in the trash before retrieving his beer and limes from her basket. He couldn’t even look at her; not when he’d acted like a complete idiot.
There was one thing for sure: He was never going back to Dale’s Diner. Hannah was too dangerous for his peace of mind.
And my genitals.
Chapter Nine
THE NEXT MORNING, Hannah got called into work at the diner, and without anything better to do, she took the shift. She needed the money, anyway.
Plus, she’d been hoping Blake might come in.
God, she was so pathetic. He’d spilled his coffee on himself just to get away from her. If that wasn’t enough to tell her he wasn’t interested, she didn’t know what was.
“Kenny, I’m taking the trash out.”
“No, you let me do that! Crazy girl,” Kenny muttered as he flipped several pancakes on the griddle.
“I’m fine. If I’m not back in three minutes, you can lead the rescue mission.” She shook her head, tired of everyone’s worried expressions and mollycoddling.
