Now that crisp breeze just reminds me of the reality that Mother Nature can be a cruel bitch. All of the heavy spring rain is why I’m losing sleep—exhausted all day—and debating if my fight to stay close to the town I love is even worth it. I’m so caught up wallowing in self-pity that I walk the three blocks on autopilot—the muscle memory kicking in from how many times I’ve walked from Cowgirl Coffee to my grandma’s house.
When I open the familiar front door—the hinges still creak like they always have—I look across the empty restaurant. My eyes follow the long counter, which separates the dining room from the open kitchen, until they land on Sutton. He’s perched on his usual spot, the barstool at the end of the counter, and those frustratingly kind eyes fixed on me.
The second he sees me, he hops to his feet and hurries over.
I check my phone and I’m pleased to see that I’m not just on time, I’m actually early.
“Let me get that for you,” he says, reaching out for the box.
“For the hundredth time, I got it.” I pull the box away from him, but he doesn’t leave my side. I jut my chin out and flare my brows, yet he still just stands there. His pale blue eyes roam over me like he’s looking for something. Desperate to break the scrutiny of his gaze, I walk over toward the counter and step behind it, setting the box by their espresso machine.
When I turn to leave, he’s standing between the wall and the counter, blocking me in. His arms are folded over his chest and it’s impossible to miss that as kind and sweet as I know he can be, he’s six foot three inches of solid, imposing man. A beautiful, yet very annoying man.
I step toward him, but he doesn’t budge. I look up at him, meeting his gaze. Despite being imposing, he doesn’t intimidate me. “I swear you’re worse than a puppy. Move out of my way and go chase a cat or something.”
The corner of his lips twitch and I see one of those dimples pop. If I wasn’t so annoyed with him and desperate to get out of this restaurant, I’d be half tempted to reach up and run my thumb over that stubble covered dimple. I just want to get home and rest, even if my apartment doesn’t feel like home.
I finally let my walls crack because I don’t have the energy left to care if he sees me this way. My shoulders slump and I let out a long sigh.
“Please, Sutton. Can you just let me leave?”
CHAPTER 10
SUTTON
I probably could have madeup an excuse to see her. Say that I needed my car back, but that would be a lie. I told her the truth, I don’t drive much, and she can keep it as long as she wants—even if her car is now in the best shape I’m sure it’s been in years. At least I feel better knowing she’s safe, regardless of which car she’s driving.
Now that she’s here, I’m no longer worried about the car, the coffee delivery, or anything else. We might have only spent one night together—one perfect night before she ghosted me—but I know her. I’ve seen her let her guard down. I’ve seen those parts she’s afraid to show anyone else.
Standing in front of me now, I know this is one of those times. One of those rare occasions when this impossibly stubborn and strong woman lets me, of all people, see through the gaps in her armor. I see her stiff posture, and the circles under those beautiful, gray eyes that even her smoky makeup can’t hide. I see the way she keeps flexing one hand at her side, and the tension in the muscles of her slender neck that I desperately wish I could put my lips on. I’d give anything to breathe in her rain-kissed skin with its lingering hints of coffee and honey again. The scent that’s so ingrainedinto my memory, I’ve spent the last two years trying to incorporate it into a dessert to put on the menu.
Clearly I need more friends, or hobbies, or something.
Somehow I bottle up the urge to lean closer and breathe her in. Instead I reach out and cup her shoulder. To my surprise, she doesn’t recoil or hit me. In fact, her body relaxes and she leans into my touch. That little gesture makes my heart fill with pride that I’ll store for another rainy day because I don’t know when she’ll ever let me get this close again.
I rub a small circle on her shoulder with the pad of my thumb. Her eyes flit to the spot where my hand is before she looks up at me.
“Hey.” I smile softly at her, but I don’t miss how shaky my voice is. “What’s wrong, Shadow?”
She closes her eyes and I see water pricking the corners of them when she scrunches her nose.
“Everything. It feels like every little fucking thing is wrong.” She keeps her eyes closed and takes deep breaths.
“What can I do?” I ask, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek.
She laughs through her nose. “You don’t happen to have a helicopter I can use to get to and from work, do you?”
“No.” I shake my head and click my tongue. “I’m afraid the restaurant industry hasn’t been that lucrative for me.”
Her eyes finally meet mine. “Got it. Porsche money, not helicopter money.”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
She nods and looks down again and I notice her teeth digging into her bottom lip.
“Is it really that bad with the pass closed?”
She runs the back of her hand across her eyes, smudging her makeup just enough to make her look like the most adorable raccoon. “You don’t have to do this.”