The Coffee Girl

by Shanna Hatfield

  Brenna lifted her eyes to his again. Twin spots of soft pink colored her cheeks before she ducked her head, unable to speak.

  If she was more confident in her ability to understand or read men, she might have thought the look in Brock’s eyes held something more than just friendly interest. The way he stared at her brought a flood of heat that began at her head and ended at her toes. If she had to stand up and walk at that very moment, she was convinced her wobbly knees would crumple beneath her.

  Always too busy or too timid to spend much time dating, Brenna knew she’d never felt like this around another man before. She’d certainly never had one make her feel like a tongue-tied ninny, unable to talk or form complete sentences, by their mere presence.

  Brock continued to watch her, further flustering her until she finally yanked her thoughts together long enough to mutter “thank you.”

  Sensing her discomfort, Brock started asking her about her mother’s business, Avery’s flower and gift shop, and her plans for the bistro. Grateful for the distraction, Brenna was soon chatting away about the future of all three businesses.

  The waiter brought them each a piece of hot apple strudel, fragrant with spices under a steaming crust, but Brenna didn’t recall ordering it. She picked up her fork and glanced at Brock, noticing his smile.

  He pointed to her plate. “Hope you don’t mind I ordered for us both. Their strudel is the best I’ve ever had.”

  “No, I don’t mind.” Brenna took a bite and enjoyed the mixture of flaky crust, cinnamon, and apples that filled her mouth.

  She realized as she ate her dessert how much she enjoyed being around Brock. Not only was he very attractive, he was also attentive, funny, and kind. He made her feel special, like she was the only woman in the restaurant and that was definitely a heady feeling. If she wasn’t careful, she could find herself completely distracted by the charming construction guy.

  They finished their dessert but didn’t linger over coffee. Brock suggested they stroll around Mt. Angel. Since it wasn’t raining and the evening hadn’t yet begun to chill, Brenna readily agreed.

  As they meandered along the sidewalk, Brock slid his fingers down until he captured her hand in the callused warmth of his.

  Brenna glanced at their joined hands then at Brock, offering him a pleased smile that nearly made him trip over a rise in the sidewalk.

  He grinned at her and more firmly clasped her hand as they strolled along.

  “So, Brenna, your mom said you’re still working in the city. When do you think you’ll give your notice?” Brock asked. Letty had filled him in on all the details about Brenna’s despicable boss. She said her determined daughter had stuck with the job a lot longer than anyone else would have tolerated his bad behavior.

  “Probably another month or so,” Brenna responded, looking in the window of a cute gift shop and admiring the display. “If our construction guy keeps things on schedule, I’ll probably give my notice in three or four weeks. He’s only been on the job a few weeks, but so far, things look promising.”

  “I’d crack the whip on that construction guy if I were you.” Brock tried to sound serious. “I heard he spends too much time watching for the boss’ daughter to come in the store and not enough time getting the work done.”

  Brenna gave him a saucy grin and playfully smacked his arm before continuing their walk. “Shame on you for having a crush on a married woman. I’m going to have to tell Greg about you ogling Avery.”

  “Funny. Real funny, coffee girl.” Brock shook his head. “You know which daughter I’m talking about and it isn’t the one who plays with flowers.”

  “Oh?” Brenna enjoyed their teasing conversation as they strolled along the quiet street. “What does she do?”

  “She makes the most wonderful baked goods I’ve ever eaten, smells like springtime, and shamelessly flirts with the devastatingly handsome construction guy at the coffee shop every morning.”

  Uncertain if he was serious or teasing, Brenna stopped and stared at him. The grin tugging at the corners of his mouth made her lips curl up in response.

  She turned her back to him to hide her grin and shrugged. “Devastatingly handsome? I wouldn’t go that far.”

  He feigned offense at her teasing and slapped a hand to his chest. “That hurts, profoundly.”

  She giggled. “Flirts shamelessly?” Brenna continued moving down the sidewalk. “If I were you, I’d stay away from that kind of girl.”

  “And just what kind of girl should I hang around?” Brock walked beside Brenna, so engrossed in their lighthearted conversation he wouldn’t have noticed if the sky had suddenly opened and began pouring down buckets of rain.

  Brenna shrugged her shoulders and glanced in a store window as they strolled past it. “That’s for you to decide, I suppose.”

  “What if I decide I like the coffee girl with the golden curls, beautiful blue eyes, and freckles on her nose?” Brock asked as they stopped to look at a fountain that ran year-round.

  “It’s hard to account for some people’s taste.” Brenna pulled a penny out of her bag and tossed it into the water where it landed one among hundreds.

  “Is that right?” Brock lunged at Brenna with a laugh as he suddenly bent her backward over his arm, hovering inches above the cold water of the fountain.

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Brenna struggled to catch her breath while she clutched Brock’s biceps. His fingers scorched her, even through her coat, and the feel of his muscles beneath her hands was an overpowering and entirely discombobulating experience.

  He could have dropped her into a lake at that point and she wouldn’t have cared. The wonder of being held close to him was too exciting, too delectably perfect, to think of anything else.

  As he held her over the water, Brock looked long and deep into Brenna’s eyes, liking what he saw there — trust, mirth, awe and something else. Something mysterious and intriguing. Slowly moving his lips into a smile, he turned and placed her back on her feet away from the fountain.

  “You’re right, I wouldn’t. But it’s fun to tease you.” Reluctantly, he let go of her and took a step back. He felt the cool air surround him where before her warmth had engulfed him. “You should probably learn right up front that I like to tease.”

  Unsettled yet thrilled by his antics, Brenna scrambled to gather her wits. She couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be than right back in his arms. It was the single most wonderful experience she’d had in her entire thirty years.

  In mock dismay, she placed a hand to her forehead and rolled her eyes in a move that would have made even the most proper Southern belle proud. “Whatever will I do?”

  Brock laughed and offered her his arm in a gallant gesture as they strolled back toward his pickup.

  “How about going to the movies with me? I promise to behave the entire time we are in the theater.” His words were innocent enough, but the look on his face was pure devilry.

  “The entire time?” Brenna didn’t want him to behave for five minutes. She liked his fun and confident manner, finding it unbelievably appealing.

  “Yep. The entire time.” Brock unlocked his pickup door and offered her his hand.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound like much fun.” Brenna flashed an impish grin before climbing inside the pickup.

  Amused, Brock shook his head as he walked around the pickup to the driver’s side. No doubt about it, Brenna was something special.

  A short while later, they stood outside the theater, realizing their choices were limited to an animated cartoon or a thriller. Brenna voted for the cartoon. She hated to be frightened and if they went to the scary movie, odds were high she’d have nightmares for days.

  Brock barely managed to keep from sighing in disgust at the thought of sitting through a cartoon and paid for their tickets. Brenna insisted on buying the popcorn and drinks then they settled in to watch the show.

  Mindful of his promise to behave during the movie, Brock had approximately ninety-three
more minutes of sitting quietly and keeping his hands to himself. Brenna’s scent settled around him much like the darkness of the theater slowly lowered around them as the movie began. He quickly directed her to seats in an empty top row.

  Brenna held the popcorn bucket between them and nibbled on bites, paying a lot less attention to the movie than she was her date. Brock smelled like musk, woods, and incredibly rugged man. He looked so handsome, she was surprised she was able to keep functioning normally.

  If she’d tripped coming up the stairs in the theater, dropped the popcorn, or sat on someone’s lap in an already occupied chair, it wouldn’t have surprised her at all. She was that wrapped up in Brock.

  Maybe he wasn’t the most gorgeous guy she’d ever seen, but he was definitely good-looking, funny, smart, and more charming than any man she’d ever encountered.

  Feeling very fortunate to be sitting right where she was beside Brock, Brenna pretended to watch the movie. She kept waiting for him to slip his arm around her or try to slide in any one of the many moves guys tended to make under the cover of darkness.

  A quick glance his direction revealed he seemed absorbed in the movie. He couldn’t seriously be interested in the cartoon, could he?

  Brenna tamped down a sigh. She took a drink from her water bottle and stuck her hand in the bucket of popcorn, bumping into Brock’s. Before she could pull her hand back, Brock turned and gave her a smile that bordered on sizzling as he caressed her fingers in the buttery cardboard container.

  With a roguish wink, he grabbed another handful of the salty kernels and returned his attention to the movie.

  It took Brenna a moment to gather her thoughts and a handful of popcorn. Her reaction to his touch was something new.

  Typically when she went to the movies with a guy, she remained tense and on edge, dreading when her date would do something annoying or obnoxious that would force her to act indignant and irritated.

  Now, she was indignant and irritated that Brock was obviously not going to try anything.

  Aware that she wasn’t beautiful, she did have the impression that Brock found her attractive. At least she assumed he’d been showing interest in her the past few weeks. They met every morning at the coffee shop for a caffeine jolt and a little innocent flirting.

  She certainly hoped this date wasn’t just some strange attempt to gain favor with her mother over the construction project.

  Releasing a little huff, she sat back in her seat and tried to focus on the rest of the movie while reining in her thoughts.

  Brock surreptitiously glanced at his watch in the dim light from the movie screen and counted down until his self-imposed good behavior could end. Nineteen minutes.

  Patiently biding his time, he watched the end of the movie with a lack of real interest in the predictable ending. As the credits began to roll, Brenna gathered her empty water bottle and the popcorn tub. She started to rise to her feet, but Brock placed a restraining hand on her arm, pulling her back down beside him.

  “Let’s wait a minute,” he said, bending close to whisper in her ear.

  His breath fanned across her neck and caused an involuntary shiver to slither down her spine. Unable to speak, she nodded her head, wondering what Brock was thinking.

  When the last person left the theater, Brock turned to her with a wink and planted a sloppy, slobbery kiss on her cheek.

  Laughing, Brenna wasn’t surprised Brock looked at her straight-faced. “I told you I’d behave through the movie, but it’s over now.”

  “Are you sure?” Brenna offered him a reproachful frown. “Technically, it isn’t over until they stop rolling the credits. Based on that, you didn’t keep your promise.”

  “Oh, cut me some slack.” Brock stood and pulled Brenna up beside him. He took the empty popcorn bucket from her hand and placed his other at the small of her back, directing her out of the empty theater.

  For the last hour, he fought the temptation of taking Brenna in his arms and covering her with kisses. When he asked her to stay while the theater emptied, he’d planned to do more than just kiss her cheek, but when he looked at her and saw her innocent smile, he decided to keep things light between them.

  With a variety of dating experience thanks to his mother constantly setting him up on dates, no matter how reluctantly he went, Brock was well versed in the ways of women. He’d dated bankers, real estate agents, business executives, super models, and even had two dates with a movie star who happened to be a devoted fan of his mother’s designs. None of them had ever fascinated him the way Brenna did.

  After dropping their garbage in a can by the door, he held Brenna’s coat while she slipped it on then they walked outside.

  “Gosh, it really cooled down while we were inside,” Brenna observed as he helped her into his truck.

  “Yeah. Feels like it might rain again, too.” Brock climbed behind the wheel and headed his truck back toward Silverton. He didn’t care if it rained, snowed or hailed. The weather was the last thing on his mind.

  He was consumed with the lovely girl sitting on the other side of his pickup, appearing far too appealing for his overwrought senses. The soft spring-like fragrance of her filled the cab of his truck, her voice teased his ears, and her smile tempted his heart.

  If she wrinkled her nose up one more time when she laughed, he thought he might come completely undone.

  “Such is life in this part of the state.” Brenna glanced out the window then back at him. “Have you ever been to Eastern Oregon? I’ve heard the summers out there can be long, hot, and dry.”

  “I’ve never really spent any time there,” Brock said, trying to focus on the words coming out of Brenna’s mouth instead of his overwhelming desire to kiss her pink lips. “My dad and I drove through Burns one August on our way to Boise and I think you could actually see the heat waves dancing across the pavement. It is definitely a different landscape than what we’ve got here.”

  “Although I could do without quite so much rain, I think we live in an especially lovely little corner of the world.” Brenna stared out the window at the muted darkness.

  “I’d have to agree.” Briefly, Brock shifted his attention from the road to Brenna. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. She offered a shy smile before returning her attention to what she could see through the window into the night.

  Reluctant to release her fingers, Brock almost jumped when she gently squeezed back, giving him a glimmer of hope that she was interested in him. At least a little.

  Brenna was disappointed when the movie ended and all Brock had done was give her one slobbery, teasing kiss on the cheek. She’d hoped he would put his arm around her, offer some gesture of interest or show her in some way he found her appealing.

  Now, they were driving home and if she sat any further away from him, she might as well be in the bed of the truck instead of the cab.

  Once again, Brenna took stock of what she had to offer a guy like Brock and found herself lacking. She felt better when he squeezed her hand. Warmth curled from her toes in tingly waves all the way to her head when he smiled at her. Timidly, she returned the pressure to his fingers and enjoyed the rest of the ride home.

  Her parents had long ago gone to bed but the front porch light glowed through the darkness like a warning beacon. She experienced a crazy sensation of being sixteen and coming in late from a date with Will.

  Brenna’s mouth went dry and nerves threatened to get the best of her as Brock parked his pickup and turned off the lights. In the darkened cab, she waited a moment before unbuckling her seatbelt and picking up her purse. When she turned to thank Brock for a wonderful date, she found herself staring at his chest. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten from her position next to the door to the middle of the pickup’s seat.

  “Brenna…” Brock’s voice had dropped to a low rumble that made goose bumps prickle her arms and neck. “That was one of the nicest evenings I’ve ever had. Thank you.”

  The simple act of nodding her head in
agreement was almost more than she could accomplish as the awareness of his thumbs tracing gentle circles across her palms rendered her speechless.

  “Do you remember at the restaurant, when we were talking about before and after tastes?” Brock asked, sliding closer to Brenna. She stared at him in wide-eyed confusion.

  Again, she nodded.

  “Remember I asked you to help me with a little project?”

  “Yes.” She inhaled deeply of his unique, musky scent, hoping a deep breath would help her focus. Instead, she became more fuzzyheaded.

  “Are you still willing to help?” Brock traced a thumb across her cheek and down her jaw. His eyes bore into hers and Brenna wanted nothing more than to surrender to the charismatic force that was all Brock.

  Another nod.

  “Good.” One strong, callused finger traced down her nose, over her chin and slowly, so slowly, trailed across her lips. He stuck his finger in his mouth, as if he was licking batter stolen from a batch of cookie dough. “Before taste is perfectly sweet, with a hint of salty popcorn and undertones of strawberry lip gloss.”

  Brenna’s eyes widened as she tried to make sense of what Brock was doing. Her time for trying to evaluate his actions was cut short when he dropped his head and pressed his mouth to hers, gently — tenderly.

  Sensations she’d never experienced rocketed from her lips throughout her body, leaving her lightheaded. Not one boy, or man, she’d kissed had ever made her feel like this — hot and languid, scrumptiously engaged and undeniably passionate.

  Glad she was sitting in the pickup, Brenna was sure Brock would have needed to pick her up off the ground if she’d been standing outside when he forever altered her world with a magnificent blending of their lips.

  When he pulled back and grinned, she returned his smile.

  “Aftertaste is sweet perfection,” Brock whispered, giving Brenna a moment to push him away. She blushed as she realized his experiment had been tasting her lips. Rather than pull back from him, she leaned closer, lashes fluttering as she closed her eyes. In agony, he groaned and buried his hands in her golden curls, absorbing the rightness of being close to Brenna.