After I park, I put a leash on Shark then open the door for him. A woman is standing outside by the door who has the café logo on her shirt. I contemplate speaking with her but round up some courage and ask the petite blonde about Shark.
“Can my dog sit with me out here?”
She eyes me up and down and licks her lips like I'm the sweetest candy she's ever tasted. I haven't had anyone look at me with interest in a long time, so I'm somewhat surprised considering how I look at the moment.
“Of course you can.” She hands me a plastic menu with hooded eyes. I give her a quick smile and sit in the sun, and try to soak up as much as I can. My mom used to slather me in sunscreen because she always said The Williams’ never get tan. Well, I put that to rest. My skin in the summer is more of an olive complexion from spending most of my days outside.
I situate myself at a small table at the edge of the patio. The woman glances over at me, and she looks like she wants to put my napkin on my lap. Shark benefits from her enthusiasm as well, because she eventually brings over a bowl of water for him to drink. He's very appreciative and starts drinking away.
She looks at me and smirks. “Want some coffee?”
I pop an eyebrow at her. “Sure. Black.”
I like the simple thing in life. Nothing fancy, no frills, just the basic stuff. Since moving to Montana, that's how I eat, drink, and live. Back in Chicago, my parents made sure everything was extravagant and reeked of wealth. They loved the fanciest cuisines from around the world, elegant wines, and would only drink sparkling mineral waters that were alkalized in France along with other expensive nonsense. At the cabin, I drink filtered water from the land and often hunt for my food. I’m living the way I’ve always wanted.
The woman brings over my cup of coffee, and I take a sip of the hot brew. As she walks away, I feel awkward, not sure what to do with myself. If I go to the Mountain Brewery for a Guinness at least I can drink a beer in silence and watch sports. It's perfectly reasonable to do that, but to sit outdoors at a café with Shark, I feel out of place.
As I'm browsing the menu, the sound of dishes crashing to the ground pulls my attention away. A waitress is kneeling to pick up the pieces. She's obviously flustered about it, and I rush over to assist any way I can.
“Are you okay?” I ask her softly, but she only nods while avoiding my gaze.
She reaches for the same piece as I do and we both pull our hands back.
“Sorry,” she mutters. “I swear I’m not always this clumsy. My manager is going to chew my ass out for this.”
I grab the rest of the shattered pieces and put them on her tray. “Accidents happen. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Groaning, she sets the tray on a nearby table and sighs when a busboy arrives with a dustpan and sweeps up the small pieces.
“Hopefully. I can’t afford another dip into my paycheck.”
Standing, I hold my arm out to help her up and when she looks up at me, my breath hitches.
She's stunning even with her chocolate brown hair tossed up in a messy bun. It's hard not to notice her beauty and toned body. She places her hand in mine and when I help her to her feet, the air stills between us. Heat hits her cheeks, and I know she's embarrassed.
My stomach is growling, and I need to eat, but I can't stop looking at her. There aren't a lot of people in the café because it's a few hours after lunch, so maybe she's the only server at the moment, or at least I find myself hoping so.
“Thank you,” she finally speaks. “I appreciate your help.”
“My pleasure.”
“I’ll be right back to take your order,” she tells me, lowering her eyes to where our hands are still touching.
“Yes, of course.” I release her hand and walk back to my table to where Shark is eagerly waiting for me.
I pet his hand, noticing how much calmer he looks now that he's hydrated.
“You feel better, buddy?” I ask. Rubbing my sweaty palms
“That’s a huge dog,” a soft recognizable voice says, and I turn to find the waitress standing over me. I notice how close she is and I can almost smell the sweetness of her skin.
“He’s just a big ole’ puppy though.” I look up at her and smiles.
She laughs, and I can't help but notice how pretty she is, without even trying. Shark sniffs her foot, and I'm happy he's being on his best behavior. Shark's a sweet dog, but sometimes he barks or jump on new people, and it usually scares the crap out of them.
“Are you ready to order?” the waitress asks. I look down at the menu trying to decide, and I can feel her eyes on me, watching me intently.
I suck in a deep breath and choose. “I'm thinking the Reuben.”