“No need for threats? You don’t think screaming at a woman in her establishment is threatening for her?” Jack looked at the book in his hands. The spine was bent to shit, the pages speckled in sand. “This isn’t a fucking library. You bought the book, you read the book, end of fucking transaction. You got me?”
“I—”
Jack moved right into his space, shutting him up. “I don’t care what your problem is, why you need to treat a woman like shit to make yourself feel like a big man. But you’re not a big man. You’re a bug. A bug I’ll squash if I see you in here or anywhere near Emery again. Got me?”
Despite the rage flickering in the man’s eyes, cowardice won out. Without another word, he marched out of the store, slamming the door behind him.
Dick.
Jack turned back to Emery who seemed a little dazed. “You okay?”
She nodded slowly.
Jack gestured to the man waiting in line who looked embarrassed too. Probably because he’d just stood there while that guy tore into Emery. Once the customer got his coffee, Jack was alone in the store with her.
He loved and hated these moments of aloneness.
She was pure temptation.
He couldn’t have her.
But, fuck, did he want her.
His blood was up after dealing with that little shit, and it was harder to ignore the urgency of that want.
Drifting to the counter, he enjoyed the way she watched him. Anytime he saw her around town, she had a faraway look on her face, as if she was somewhere else. She was like this when she served her customers. But not with him. Jack always got her entire focus.
And he liked that more than he could say.
“You sure you’re all right?” he asked as she began making his and Cooper’s Americano without him having to ask.
She nodded, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Thank you.”
“That happen a lot?”
“The angry customer?”
“Yeah.” Jack didn’t like the thought of her being alone in here all the time. She needed to hire someone else to work along with her. He’d thought she would. But it had just been her for the entire two years she’d been here.
“Now and then, but rarely, customers can be unpleasant.” She set his coffee on the counter. “But nothing like that. I’m sorry you had to deal with it. I wish I were better with confrontation.”
“I’m not sorry. I’m glad I could be here. That asshole has anger problems. It wasn’t about you.”
She nodded again.
His concern for her frustrated him. “Why don’t you try to make more friends in town?”
There she went, blushing again. The white dress she wore beneath her short apron had a V-neckline so he could see even her chest flushed. Jack tried not to look. He always tried not to look. The dress had tight sleeves at the upper arms and then they puffed out from the elbow to the wrist where the fabric was tight around the wrist. The bodice was tight, hinting at perfect breasts and a narrow waist that flared at the hips. Jack couldn’t tell with her standing behind the counter if the dress was long or short, only that it loosened around the hips.
Silver jewelry dripped off her, and her hair was tied in a fancy-looking side braid, hanging down over her right breast.
Emery Saunders was like a fairy princess come to life.
Or an angel.
Yeah. A goddamn angel.
Jack, at once, wanted to protect her from everything, arm her with a metaphorical sword and teach her to fight for herself, and he wanted to dirty up those angel wings by rolling around in bed while she wore only her silver jewelry. He wanted to hear it jangle so badly, it hurt.