The little bit of me that is like Slade and cares about details would say I should get our coffee beans from someone that will deliver on Wednesday when the restaurant opens for the week. Who’s really going to notice in an overpriced espresso martini though?
Also it means I wouldn’t get to see Kelsey come in here most Sundays, which has been the highlight of my week for the last year since she started making deliveries. Seeing her is always the best part of my week. She should have been here already though.
She’s made it clear over the past two years that she wants nothing to do with me. Sometimes, I’ll leave a little reminder that she made an impression on me I won’t forget, just like I did last week on her birthday. Most of the time though, I respect that boundary, even if I don’t know what I did wrong that night or the morning after.
The sound of the front door opening fills the mostly empty restaurant, and I look up just in time to see her coming in. It’s been raining all day. Actually, it’s been raining a lot lately, even for spring. Her dark hair clings to her forehead and shoulders, only highlighting her pale, creamy complexion. Even as flustered as she clearly is, she’s breathtaking and I can’t look away. The only thing that makes me move from my spot behind the counter is seeing her struggle with the large box. Between after dinner drinks, coffee gelato, and our espresso-based cocktails, our delivery has to be one of their largest each week outside of some of the high end hotels.
I rush around the counter, getting to her side in just a few long strides.
“Hey. Let me get that.”
I reach for the box, but she just glares back at me as usual. “I can handle it, Pretty Boy.”
I stay right by her side—like the lovesick puppy I am for her—as she carries the box behind the counter, and sets it down by the espresso machine.
“Everything OK?” Grace asks, looking up from the pasta bowl, which is now empty. I can’t help but take a little bit of pride in that. Right now though, I have far more urgent concerns than clearing the empty bowl.
Looking at Kelsey, I can tell she’s more than just flustered and running late. She looks worn down. Normally, she would drop that box off and leave without saying a word to me, like being in this restaurant physically pains her.
I’m glad Grace is here, because she and Kelsey grew up together. Maybe today, she’ll actually stick around long enough to answer her friend’s question.
“Just car trouble. Nothing really new.” Kelsey sighs, swiping her wet bangs away from her eyes.
“What’s wrong with your car?” I grit out the words and my tone is so tense that I surprise not just Kelsey, but myself too.
Shockingly, she actually looks me in the eye. “The brakes. My dad says I need to replace them. I’ll get to it when I can fit it in the budget.”
I can literally feel my blood pressure rise and my molars grind. What the fuck? I know she has a long drive each day through the winding mountain pass. Even with good weather and good brakes, that’s a rough drive. With the rain lately and bad brakes, it’s downright treacherous.
“You need to get those fixed. That’s not safe.” My voice is even gruffer and my words more clipped than before and I can feel TJ and Grace’s eyes on me. To her credit, my Shadow doesn’t back down.
“Yeah. Did you just hear me? I’ll deal with it when I can afford it.”
She’s stubborn, and honestly, that’s one of her qualities that I admire. I have tried so hard to respect her boundaries, but today is not one of those days. My resolve snaps and I don’t give a single fuck about crossing that boundary when it comes to her safety.
I dip my hand into my pocket and pull out my keys.
“Here.” I grab her wrist and thrust my keys into her open hand. “Take my car. I’ll fix yours.”
“What the…no? No. There’s no way—” She tries to push the keys back to me, but before she can protest anymore my need to keep her safe wins out. I snatch her carabiner keychain from her belt loop and jingle the keys in front of her face. I am now fully committed to this absurd idea.
“I’ll bring it back in a few days, after it’s fixed. Now I need to get going since you were late.”
She stares at me incredulously. “You’re a chef. What the hell do you know about fixing a car?”
I head toward the door leading to my apartment upstairs to grab my duffle bag.
I look back at her over my shoulder. To my surprise, she’s still standing next to the espresso machine while TJ and Grace look at me with pure amusement on their faces.
I shrug. “More than you.”
As I continue up the stairs, I realize I don’t need to worry about making my flight, because now I’m going to drive her shitbox car all afternoon and through the night to Sterling Springs.
I hear her call out from the kitchen as I reach the top of the stairs.
“I’m pretty sure grand theft auto is a felony in Wyoming!”
I make out the sound of Grace snickering and TJ chuckling.I’m glad someone is enjoying this, but I don’t think it’s funny that she’s been risking her life to get to work every day.