Beyond the Orange Moon (Mathews Family Book 2)
Page 6
The coffee machines were incredibly loud and he wondered how in the hell anyone could stand to listen to that sound all day long. It was a wonder she wasn’t deaf. He worked in construction with loud machines, too, so that was really saying something.
As the line dwindled, Charlie couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He realized in that moment that he had been completely wrong about his first assessment of her: she wasn’t adorable; she was gorgeous. Adorable was the word for his one-year-old son. There was nothing childish about Lucy.
She swiped away a strand of hair with the back of her arm as she began making another coffee for the man ahead of Charlie, but startled when he suddenly snapped at her.
“Today, princess!” the man yelled. “I’ve been waiting forever!”
“Sorry,” she said over the loud machine. “Mornings are really busy and someone called in today.”
“You’re making coffee. It’s not that hard, is it?” the man barked. “It’ll help if you move that tight ass a little faster!”
Without a thought, Charlie shoved him from behind. Like the moment he wiped frosting from Lucy’s face, here he was moving in that automatic motion again. The man flew forward, but caught himself with his hands and knocked a few things down in the process. He turned and leaned against the counter as Charlie looked down at him with clenched fists.
It was a cheap move, hitting him from behind like that, but he deserved it. Anyway, now that he was facing forward, if Charlie moved in, he knew he could destroy him.
“Do I have your attention?” Charlie asked, with his best death stare.
Clearly terrified, the man slowly nodded.
“We don’t speak to women that way, do we?” Charlie asked calmly.
The man’s face went white. “No,” he said, and shook his head.
Charlie grabbed a fistful of the man’s suit jacket and pulled him upright. He turned him to face Lucy, who was wide-eyed on the other side of the counter, her hands covering her mouth. “I think you owe her an apology,” Charlie said, and shook the man.
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I’m sorry!” he said louder when Charlie shook him again.
Lucy set his coffee down and Charlie grabbed it. He handed him the coffee and straightened out the sleeve of his suit. “That was nice,” he said, and gave the man’s arm a slap. “Now, pay her, and don’t forget a tip.”
After the man paid and rushed out the door, Charlie took a moment to cringe at his behavior. He wasn’t sure where it had come from, but he was positive he wasn’t making himself look all that great in front of Lucy.
He finally turned and threw her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry,” he said, and picked up the box of straws he had knocked over in the scuffle. “I just couldn’t let him speak to you like that.”
Her mouth opened and closed quickly. Her sparkling blue eyes remained wide and Charlie couldn’t decipher whether she was scared of him or not.
“I swear, I’m not some Neanderthal that walks around pummeling people.”
She nodded slowly.
“I have a problem with the way men speak to women sometimes. I always picture my mom or my sister. I guess that makes me just … I don’t know … lose it a little.” He tried to flash her an innocent smile and realized that getting her to speak might be a little difficult now. “So, I guess I owe you two apologies today, huh?”
Her eyes finally returned to their normal size, but then she squinted in confusion. “Wait. Why do you owe me two apologies?”
“Well, the first one is for that idiotic display and the second one is for touching your face the other day. That was really out of line.”
“My face?” Her hand slowly moved to where he had touched her. While he helplessly contemplated stroking it again—this time with his tongue—she held her fingers there and stared at him.
“Again, just so we’re clear, I’m not a face-touching caveman who beats up random people.” It was obvious that she needed a minute, so he took the stool in front of her. “I’m Charlie. I don’t think I told you that the other day. It’s Lucy, right?”
“Charlie,” she said quietly. “Right.”
“Those muffins have become pretty popular with the guys I work with,” he said in his best effort to make small talk.
“Do you want muffins?” she asked, her face finally relaxing into a more normal expression.
“And coffee,” he added with a wink. Clearly, his old days of flirting were coming back to him whether he wanted them to or not.
“Okay,” she said carefully, and glanced down at his wedding ring. Her eyes lingered there for a moment until she met his eyes again. “What kind of muffins?”
“Banana,” he said, hating himself. Now Lucy probably thought he was a presumptuous pervert who beat people up and cheated on his wife. There was simply no winning in this situation.
“The banana muffins are still in the oven. A man came in a little while ago and bought every single banana muffin we had, so I had to make more.” She looked around. “Hence, why I fell behind during morning rush.”
Charlie closed his eyes and sighed. He was positive he was going to get to work and find a plethora of banana muffins.
“Coffee while you wait?” she asked.
“Sure,” he answered. “I like it hot.”
She bit her lip, clearly stifling a laugh. “Okay,” she said and grabbed a cup from the stack in front of her.
“I meant the coffee,” he mumbled, and rubbed his hands over his face.
“I know what you meant,” she said, still trying not to smile. She poured the coffee and set it down in front of him. “So, the other day you said you have a crew. Is that for construction?”
He nodded and wrapped his hand around his coffee. “Commercial. We’re putting up that new shopping center down on Mountain View and Hayden.”
“Oh, I know right where that is. I pass it every day on my morning run.”
“You run by a construction site every morning? Have you lost your mind?”
“Hah.” She gave him a delectable grin. “It’s early. Barely anyone is even there.”
“Do me a favor. Take another route.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I’m obviously feeling a little protective of you after today. I’d fire anyone who even looked your way.”
What the hell was he saying? The words were just rolling out of his big mouth. He couldn’t help but imagine what she wore while she ran: short shorts, a small workout bra, with or without a top … he really didn’t want her running by that site.
She closed her mouth and pursed her pink lips, the smile completely gone. “So, if it’s your crew, does that mean you’re the guy in charge?”
“I’m one of them, I guess. I have one guy above me and he sits around in the trailer all day.”
“Does that bother you?” she asked, seeming genuinely curious.
Charlie shook his head and laughed. “Mike’s a good guy, even though I want to strangle him right now. He’s been kind of a stand-in father for me most of my life.”
“Stand-in? Where’s your real father?” She stopped and covered her mouth. “That was so rude. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” His chest expanded at the sight of her red cheeks and sweet apology. “My father passed away of cancer when I was sixteen. Mike was his best friend and kind of stepped in for my mom, brothers, sister, and me.”
“That’s great that you had someone,” she said, and put her elbows on the counter, resting her chin in her hand. “My father left my mother when I was little and he hasn’t been back since.”
Charlie frowned. “I’m sorry. If it helps, that’s not a father. Or a man, for that matter.”
“His loss, right?” Lucy moved to the register to take another customer’s order. She bent down to pull out a cinnamon roll from the case and Charlie watched as the man she was waiting on snuck a look at her ass. He could hardly blame him, but he still wanted to punch the guy.
She smiled as the customer
left and returned to her spot in front of Charlie. “Do you smell that?” she asked suddenly, and looked from side to side.
Charlie froze and sniffed the air. “Is something burning?” As soon as the words left his mouth, the fire alarm sounded from the kitchen with a loud, insistent beep.
“The muffins!” she yelled, and raced through the double doors to the left of the counter.
Charlie watched her run away. But as soon as he saw the black smoke billowing from the doors she had just run through, he leapt up and took off in her direction. He found her just as she grabbed a towel, pulled the oven door open, and pulled out the pan, which was on fire.
“Oh no!” she screamed, and tossed the pan onto the stainless steel counter. She began fanning the muffins to try and put the fire out, but all that did was feed the flames. She jumped back and landed directly in Charlie’s arms.
“It’s okay,” he reassured. With Lucy snug at his side, Charlie grabbed the spray hose from the sink and brought it over. He doused the blaze with water until the muffins were nothing but steaming carbon.
When the fire was out, they both looked up at the ceiling. The alarm continued to sound above them, but Charlie grabbed the towel from Lucy’s hand and fanned the air below it until the obnoxious sound came to an end.
When all was finally quiet, he looked down at her and smiled. “I’ll just take blueberry.”
Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink and she giggled. She buried her face in his chest and burst into hysterics, her back heaving with each snicker. He had to admit, it was one of the best feelings he’d had in a long time. He wrapped his arm around her and gave in to the laughter.
“Your shirt is soaked,” she finally said into his chest.
“So is yours,” he returned.
“Lucy?” They both froze as the voice came from behind them.
Charlie turned around and locked eyes with the girl that had been in the café the day before. It was then, with the help of the strange look on her face, that he remembered he was basically embracing Lucy. Immediately, he let go and shifted two steps back.
“Hi, Grace,” Lucy said, and wiped the tears from her eyes. “We had a tiny fire.”
“We’re out of banana muffins,” Charlie warned, and then chuckled when Lucy slapped his arm.
“Uh-huh,” Grace said, and slowly backed out of the kitchen.
“I’m crying,” Lucy said, and wiped away another tear. “Oh my God. I haven’t laughed that hard in so long.”
“I haven’t either,” he admitted.
She looked up at him and smiled, her chest moving up and down with each breath. It was an erratic movement that he wished he could interpret. He reached down and cupped her face with his hand, using his thumb to wipe a black mark from her cheek. There he was again, touching her face. Only this time, it didn’t feel so intrusive; it almost felt welcomed.
Her smile slowly vanished. “Frosting?”
“Black smudge,” he murmured.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes wide.
“Let’s clean up this mess.” He stepped back before he lost control, put her up on the counter, and pulled that wet, pink shirt from her body.
“Charlie,” she began, shaking her head, “you don’t have to help me.”
Ignoring her protests, he picked up the charred remains of the muffins and tossed the entire thing in the garbage. “I hope you weren’t attached to that pan.”
“I never want to see it again.” Lucy pulled down a stack of clean towels and spread them out all over the floor. “I’ll get it later.”
“Lucy, customer!” Lucy’s friend yelled from the doors.
“Are you sure you got this?” Charlie asked, looking at the wet floor.
Lucy nodded quickly and dabbed a towel against her chest, which was still wet and enticing as it glistened up at him. “It’s just water.”
Charlie stepped to the double doors and held one open for her, following her out, all the while using his best efforts to ignore the energy between them.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy called to the waiting customer. “Technical difficulty in the back.”
Both the customer and Lucy’s friend, Grace, eyed Charlie who was also covered in water. Charlie nodded to them both and came around to the other side of the counter, where his coffee still sat.
Lucy handed the customer a scone and a black coffee, and then his receipt. “So,” she said to Charlie after the customer walked away, “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I guess I should brush up on my fire safety skills, huh?”
“Yes, you should.” Charlie grinned. It was a warm, gooey expression that hadn’t graced his mouth in a year.
They sat in silence for a while and stared at each other. She was beautiful and he could have looked at her all day, really. He wasn’t sure what she was feeling behind that gaze, but he knew what was going on in his head and it was something he needed to walk away from. As attracted as he was to her, he just wasn’t ready to go further.
“I should go,” he said quietly.
“Blueberry,” she said, and handed him a muffin. “It’s on me, though.”
Charlie took the muffin from her hand and grazed her finger on purpose. “Thank you.” He turned to leave and once again noticed the strange look from her friend. “Grace, is it?”
Grace took a deep breath. “Yes,” she muttered, clearly uncomfortable in his presence, although he had not a clue why.
“Have a good day, ladies,” he said, and walked outside.
* * *
“You’re an asshole,” Charlie said as soon as he walked into the trailer to find Mike surrounded by banana muffins.
Mike eyed him strangely as he took in Charlie’s wet shirt. “You were supposed to flirt, not drown her.”
Charlie blew out a quick breath and looked down at his shirt. He ran his hands along the wet fabric and he couldn’t help but smile at the memory of her in his arms. “She had a small kitchen fire while I was there.”
“And you came to the rescue?” Mike asked, and raised his brows. “That went better than I planned.”
Charlie collapsed into his chair. He raised his hand and closed his eyes. “Just do me a favor and stop helping.”
Mike laughed and picked up a muffin. “Helping?” he said. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“No, as a matter of fact, you’re not,” Charlie said. “I shoved a guy who was rude to her and she thinks I’m some womanizer who sleeps around on his wife. I’m obviously not making a great impression on this girl, so, no, Mike, you’re not helping.”
“Womanizer?” Mike asked, surprised. “Why does she think that?”
Charlie flashed his wedding ring.
Mike looked down at his desk and frowned. “I’m not even going to say it, kid. Don’t ask me to go there.”
“I’m not asking you! I haven’t asked you, get it?”
“Okay,” Mike said, raising his hands defensively. “I thought maybe it would do you some good to at least get a little action, but I’ll back off.”
Charlie stared at him hard and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He subdued the smirk he felt coming and looked out the window to the guys working outside. “Fuck, she looked good in that wet shirt.”
“I bet she did,” Mike said.
“Oh, hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Charlie said. “Jonah needs a job.”
“Jonah?” Mike groaned. “I’d take Hugh or Brandon, but I don’t know about Jonah.”
“Brandon designs buildings; he doesn’t build them. You know this.” Charlie leaned forward. “And you would really take Hugh over Jonah? Seriously?”
“I wouldn’t take either of them. If I had to, though, at least I know that Hugh adapts,” Mike said, rubbing his chin. “Jonah, not so much. He’d leave in the middle of the day to chase a woman across the street and I’d never hear from him again.”
“Hugh would do that, too,” Charlie corrected. “He’d just fig
ure out how to talk his way out of your wrath first.”
“Exactly,” Mike said. “Hugh has more respect than Jonah.”
“None of what you just said makes sense.” Charlie shook his head. “Neither of those idiots have any respect.”
“And you’re asking me to hire one of them.”
“He needs a job, Mike. I need him to have one before he tells my mom that he quit school.”
At the mention of Linda, Mike’s eyes softened and moved to a random spot on the wall. “Where do you want me to put him?” he asked, sighing in surrender.
“Start him on the bottom and let him earn his keep,” Charlie said. “He’s smart, though. It might not seem like it, but he is. He could probably help us out with the financial aspect and help get things in order around here.”
“I wouldn’t mind that, actually,” Mike said, thoughtfully.
“That’s the spirit, Mikey boy,” Charlie said. “You’re a good man.”
“Do not ever call me that again.”
“A good man?” Charlie grinned.
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“Most likely.”
Mike raised his arm and pointed to the door. “Go.”
“Enjoy your muffins,” Charlie said. He slipped a hard hat on and walked out to the site.
* * *
Lucy wiped down the counter and felt a fiery rush creep over her when she thought about standing in Charlie’s muscular arms. She froze mid-wipe and nearly groaned when she thought about the searing look in his eyes. He was definitely battling something when he looked at her. And she could imagine what it was, but that just made her depressed.
She shouldn’t go there with him. She couldn’t go there at all. But how could she prevent him from coming in to the café? Did she even want him to stop coming in?
It all made her stomach hurt. It was too much.