My stomach curls in on itself, visions of making him another cup and then throwing it in his face, assaulting my mind.
“Stop.” My mystery man’s voice makes me falter.
I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about him over the past two days, but I never in a million years would have expected him to show up here.
He leans against the glass case, his three-piece suit perfectly pressed, giving him an air of sophistication that swallows the guy next to him whole. “Do you have a tendency to let small men speak to you in such a way, darling?”
Shame curdles my insides. “No, I—” I clear my throat. “He’s a customer, is all.”
“Nah man, this bitch just doesn’t know how to do a simple job.”
A low chuckle rumbles from my mystery man’s chest, the sound vibrating through the café. His frame already towers over the other guy, but like a shape-shifter, he morphs, sucking all the energy from around him and using it to expand his stature. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, and my gaze is transfixed on the vision.
He leans in close to the customer’s ear. “Your watch is rather loud.”
The guy scrunches his brows. “Huh?”
My mystery man nods toward the asshole’s wrist, the diamond-encrusted watch gleaming like a beacon. “Your watch. It’s… ticking.”
“Okay, and?”
He sighs, a hand coming to rub across the bottom of his jaw. My eyes track the movement, taking in how incredibly attractive he is, even more so in the light of day.
The jerk turns toward me, eyes widening as he smacks his palm on the counter again, the sound slapping against my insides like nails on a chalkboard.
“Enjoying the show? Make my coffee.”
I grit my teeth. If I wasn’t at work, I wouldn’t be trying so hard to bite my tongue, but I enjoy this job. It’s the first one I’ve ever had, and while I definitely don’t need it by any stretch of the imagination, it feels good to have something that I’ve earned. Something that wasn’t handed to me because of my last name and the blood that runs through my veins.
As much as I love my father, sometimes, it gets heavy living in his shadow.
“Don’t make his coffee, darling.” The pet name flips my stomach, and my eyes volley between the two men.
The customer’s face turns ruddy, but he doesn’t speak. Doesn’t argue. Presumably because even he can feel the power radiating from the man standing at his side.
My stranger’s tongue swipes along his bottom lip, causing a sharp ache to spread between my legs.
“It’s graceful,” he says, meeting my eyes. “The way you’re acting. Says more about your character than his.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, gratitude lighting me up like Christmas lights. How is it possible that this man was able to take away my humiliation and turn it into something beautiful with a few simple words?
“Fuck you,” the jerk spits.
Mystery man’s blue eyes harden, a tight smile twisting his lips. He slips a hand into his pocket, leaning in close to the guy, muttering something in his ear.
My ears strain, unable to stop myself from eavesdropping, but he speaks so softly it’s impossible to hear. Whatever he says causes the man’s eyes to grow large, and he turns and rushes out the door without another word spoken.
I’m frozen in place, my heart beating rapidly in my chest as I glance around. And it’s only then I take in that there are other people in the shop. Two young men, standing off to the side, both in black suits, and both wearing identical faces. Twins.
I was so zoned into what was happening, I didn’t even see them. Mystery man’s eyes glance to them and he gives a short nod. Without another look, they walk out of the shop and onto the street.
Odd.
He brings his attention back to me, and like a moth to a flame, I’m sucked into his gaze, the questions fading to the back of my mind.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
My heart skips. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you though, for standing up for me.”
“He was a cad, darling.” His eyes glint. “Not worthy to taste the air you breathe.”
My cheeks heat. I had forgotten how forward he is—how absolutely consuming his presence is to be around.
“If you say so.” I smile, glancing at my pink nails before raising my eyes back up to him. “What would you like?”
“A date.”
My breath stutters, my stomach somersaulting. “A… what?”
He grins, one side of his mouth pulling up. “I think you heard me.”
My brow lifts, that same fire I felt two days ago raging back to life. “I did.”
“Fantastic.” He glances around at the empty tables. “When do you get off work?”
I rest my fingers on the counter. “I appreciate the gesture, but… I have plans tonight.”
“That’s right,” he says. “With me.”
Irritation brews in my stomach. “Not with you. God, you’re cocky as hell, aren’t you?”
His eyes flare. “There goes that mouth of yours again.”
I smirk, my heart jerking as it slams against my chest.
He leans forward on the counter. “Tell me your name.”
“Couldn’t find that out when you somehow figured out where I work?” I tilt my head.
He chuckles, standing up straight, his eyes searing through me. “Happy coincidence, I assure you.”
“What’s your name?” I reply.
“I’m James.” His hand reaches out across the counter.
My stomach tightens and my teeth sink into my lower lip. Slowly, I lift my arm, placing my palm in his, the warmth of his skin shooting up my arm. “Wendy.”
“Wendy.” He twists my hand, bringing it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure.”
Heat spikes through my middle.
The bell chimes above the door, a young woman walking in with kids, and I jerk my fingers out of his, straightening my apron.
The left side of his mouth lifts, his eyes never leaving my body. “I’ll be seeing you, Wendy, darling.”
And then he turns and saunters out the door, the woman who just walked in staring after him with her mouth slightly agape.
I can’t say I blame her.
Taking a deep breath to settle my nerves, I ignore the way my insides flush. I’ve never had attention on me the way he gives it, and I can’t help but wonder if this is how he is with everyone—like his world stops spinning, its axis tilting just for you.
Either way, I like it.
It isn’t until hours later, when I’ve closed up shop and settled in for my movie night with Jon, that I realize he never ordered a drink. A small smile lights up my face, butterflies erupting in my stomach at the thought that maybe he was there for me, after all.
It should put me on guard, but instead, excitement floods my insides.
And that night, when I go to bed, I dream of cerulean blue.
James.
6
James
My shoe taps against the stone tile of the JR’s basement floor. I smile, remembering when Ru fought me on installing it, wanting to stick with concrete instead. But I insisted. Concrete is porous, harder to clean. He was thankful for it after realizing that having a cement dungeon in the bottom of a bar would have looked far more suspicious when the feds sniff around.