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“Yes. But only about a thousand percent.”

“Okay.” He opened those eyes puppy wide, his voice rising a few notches. “Will you go out with me? I’ll admit I have an arrest record. I beat someone up. He deserved it, though.”

“Why don’t you start by ordering something?”

“Sure.” He scanned the menu written on the surfboard hanging over her head. His lashes were long and dark, eyes shadowed. Some of his mania must be coming from fear and insecurity. She would cut him a break and be kind, though frankly, she wished both Arnette brothers would get out of her store. Life had been so peaceful without Zac around. Though she supposed it was good to realize how far she still had to go before she could confidently return to New York. Her transformation wasn’t worth much if she fell back into her old ways every time something stressful happened.

Luke ordered a mocha latte, which she made with whole milk, and she added a free oatmeal flaxseed raisin cookie to welcome him to Carmia, because he looked as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks. He and Zac took their coffees over to Zac’s regular table while Chris tried to get back to a state of calm, which proved futile because there was a constant buzz inside her, reminding her of Zac’s looming presence.

She wanted to ask him if he’d been accepted into any engineering doctoral programs yet, though Eva probably would have said something if he had. He’d taken a leave from his engineering job at a firm in San Luis Obispo to deal with Luke. Obviously the company he worked for valued him a lot if he was able to come and go like that. Apparently he’d worked at the same company through his master’s program at Cal Poly, as well. She was curious what his life had been like growing up in Connecticut, and whether Luke had always been a troublemaker and whether—

Stop. Chris yanked her mind back to the present where it belonged, pulled a couple of shots of espresso for a husband and wife biking through Carmia on their way down the coast, and packed up some whole-grain fruit bars for them to take with them.

Another few customers straggled in. She served them cinnamon-flavored organic brown-rice pudding and lattes made with almond milk, glad the place was busy so she could work on pretending Zac wasn’t there.

During the next quiet moment, she was about to head back to check on the bathrooms when the front door swished open again.

“I have arrived, victorious!”

Chris swung around, already smiling. Another familiar face had returned. With his tousled dark hair and blue eyes, Gus Banyon was the sexiest surfer dude of all time—except, perhaps, for his equally gorgeous friend Bodie, who had ten more years and twenty more pounds of solid man muscle on him. “Hey, Gus. Welcome back!”

“Whoa, you cut off all your hair. Why’d you do that?” Gus didn’t look any more pleased with her new do than Zac had been. And was even less polite about it.

“It was time for a change. So what did you win this time?” Gus had spent the past few months competing in surfing competitions across the country.

“Better than a win, I got a sponsor!” He raised his muscled arms. “I am the dude!”

“Gus, that is great.” Chris couldn’t say she understood his world, but she was a little smarter about it than when she’d arrived in October. Having a sponsor meant money, which meant bigger and more important competitions, and, most important, it meant someone truly believed in Gus’s talent. “Congratulations! What can I get you? On the house. Suja Juice?”

“Oh, wow, you’re stocking that now?”

“I am.” She laughed at his shocked expression. “Your favorite.”

“Could I have a Berryoxidant?”

“Coming right up.”

“All right!” He lifted his hand for a high five and pulled it back at her withering look. She might have settled into the California vibe, but she was still not going to do that.

From the small refrigerator behind the counter, she pulled out a Berryoxidant and handed over the attractive red bottle.

“Thank you, my dudess.” Gus lifted the bottle reverently. “Apple, orange, strawberry, banana, raspberry, sour cherry, chia seed, flaxseed, baobab and camu camu. Score!”


Tags: Isabel Sharpe Billionaire Romance