“Nah.” She grinned. “Think it’s time.”
Then she turned her attention back to the machine, giving me no other option but to continue serving customers. I considered just leaving them there and running out of the room, but though I might’ve been a little eccentric, flighty and anxious, I was also a businesswoman who would not just run out on paying customers like that.
I rolled back my shoulders, working to plaster a smile on my face and continued working as he got closer. I took great care in plating cakes, cupcakes, croissants… taking much longer than I normally would’ve. But then Angelina—the teenager we’d hired to wait tables and take food out—took over, leaving me no other option but to man the cash register.
Fiona’s words echoed in my mind as I gave the last customer his change, my hand shaking in anticipation of my next one.
I set my palm flat on the counter so I could hide the shake and steady myself.
This is ridiculous, I thought. You don’t even know this man. You’re acting like some idiotic lovestruck teenager just because he has good bone structure. And disarming features. And dark hair that curls out from underneath that backward baseball cap. And broad shoulders. And arresting, silvery-blue eyes. And the hands. Large. Long fingered. Clean but always speckled with paint. If they went over my skin, his calluses would be rough, textured.
My eyes met his silvery blues.
As always, his jaw was covered in stubble.
His mouth perfectly formed, those lips never turned upward into a grin but not angled downward in a scowl either. He was stern, masculine and somber but not entirely terrifying. Well, I was sure to the general public he wasn’t entirely terrifying. To me he was.
It occurred to me that he’d been standing in front of me for at least thirty seconds, and I hadn’t said a word. I’d just been staring at him, at his jaw, at his lips.
To be fair, he hadn’t said anything either. Actually, he was staring at me too. My nipples pebbled underneath my shirt in a way that was incredibly inappropriate in a place of business.
My place of business.
I had to do something.
Say something.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a Kacey vibe?” I blurted.
He didn’t answer, just blinked once very slowly, likely wondering if I was having a break from reality.
“From Yellowstone,” I added quickly.
Another blank look.
“The TV show,” I continued lamely. “It’s about cowboys.” I drummed my fingers on the counter, wishing I could hide beneath it. “Well, not just about cowboys. It shines a spotlight on the commercialization of family ranches, the theft of land from Native Americans, and yes, it’s got a sufficient amount of badass scenes and great romantic subplots. It’s the best show on television. Multifaceted.”
Oh my god, what are you talking about?
My ears flamed in embarrassment as I waved my hands manically. “Anyway, it’s great. You’ve got a Kacey vibe. He’s a former Marine.” Why I couldn’t just shut the fuck up and ask for his order was beyond me, but I was in too deep now.
His brows were furrowed a tad, and the corner of his mouth turned upward in what looked like amusement. I couldn’t tell for sure, though. I was spiraling now.
“A Kacey vibe mixed generously with a Rip aesthetic,” I continued to blather. “Rip is the best and most complex character on the show in my opinion. He has a tragic backstory and can be ruthless and violent, yet he’s gentle, kind and patient with Beth.”
Oh my god, I want to die.
I seriously considered cutting my losses, turning and running from the counter, going through the kitchen, through the back door, getting into my car, and driving out of town never to return.
But I couldn’t abandon my business, my home. And my car was almost out of gas.
So I stayed put, likely flaming red, definitely sweating and utterly mortified.
“Beth is a badass,” I explained for no other reason than I must’ve lost my damn mind. “She’s tougher than any man and ten times smarter. You think she’s got a cold heart, but it’s a ball of fire for those she loves.” I continued to thrum my fingertips on the counter, hearing my pulse thrashing in my ears as well as the sensible, mortified part of me screaming from somewhere deep down to shut the fuck up.
Though I could be considered to be somewhat dramatic, I was also shy. Timid even, Nathan had said. I was not known to babble about characters on my favorite TV show to complete strangers.
Yet, there I was.
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what else to do at that moment but stare at the man who I’d made my pretend boyfriend for months and who would likely never come here again because he’d been accosted by the insane owner.