by Isabel North
“You are a tease, Kurt Evans.” She looked pointedly at his hold and he let go. “Is this an ego thing for you? You turned me down two seconds ago, and now you’re smoldering at me?”
“I’m not smoldering, for god’s sake.”
“Stop looking at my mouth, Kurt.”
He swore and glanced up, guilty.
Lila threw her hands out. “You are the biggest flirt I’ve ever met. You turned me down. Three seconds ago. Kurt.” He was staring at her mouth again.
“Goddammit.” He thrust a hand through his hair. “We’re a bad idea, Lila.”
Was he trying to convince her or himself? No need to convince her. “I agree. Flirting is fun, being yanked around is not. Let me clarify. Being yanked around in bed, bring it on. Being yanked around emotionally, fuck no. You’re doing it again. Cut it out. My proposition is off the table. I’m telling you here and now, if you try to kiss me, I will bite.”
“I have no doubt.”
“The kissing train has left the station.”
“The kissing train?”
“As far as you’re concerned, all the sexual trains have departed. The kissing train. The fooling-around train. The where’s-my-underwear train. Wait, what’s that?” She cupped a hand around her ear. “That was the orgasm train. No orgasms for you. Not from me.”
Kurt’s eyes were fixed on hers. “You’re making this hard, Lila.”
“Sucks to be you. Oh, the sucking train? That’s gone, too.”
Kurt seemed to be half turned-on and half trying not to laugh. “God, I wish it was worth it, but…it’s not.”
Lila felt breathless, as if she’d been winded. “Not worth it?”
Kurt shook his head.
“I’ve been rejected a fair few times in my life. Until today, no one has ever told me to my face that I’m not worth it.”
“I didn’t say you’re not worth it. I said you and me hooking up isn’t worth it. People will get hurt. Believe it or not, I don’t like hurting people.”
“The woman you said isn’t worth it does not believe you don’t like hurting people.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Lila.” He ducked to look into her eyes. “Shit. Honey. Are you going to cry?”
Was she going to…? Asshole. “Keep talking and someone’s going to be crying any minute now. Spoiler alert: it won’t be me.” Kurt edged away. “You might want to get all the way behind your desk,” Lila told him sweetly. “I can still reach you from here.”
CHAPTER TWO
Griffin Burke was used to attracting attention, and being stared at. He didn’t like it one bit, but he was accustomed to it. Burke was what you’d call a big guy.
A less flattering way of saying it was, he was built like a brick shithouse. This was his least favorite. Then there was built like a grizzly, a mountain, a tree.
People always seemed to refer to his appearance in terms of landscapes, rough and functional architecture, or wild animals.
Sitting at one of the small tables in Megan’s coffee shop with a large cup of coffee and a plate of cupcakes in front of him, it was fair to say that Burke did not fit in. Emerson Beans and Bakes was all golden wood, soft acoustic guitar music, friendly people in bright colors flitting around like butterflies.
Burke was a continent of uncompromising muscle and bone in dark denim and flannel.
Again, this was something Burke was accustomed to. He hadn’t ever managed to fit in anywhere. At this point in his life, he’d stopped trying. He ignored the occasional measuring stare, and concentrated on his cupcakes.
He had three. A vanilla and strawberry, a coffee and chocolate, and a lemon. He normally had four, but he was cutting back. He was closing in on thirty-eight. Sooner rather than later, his metabolism was going to throw up its hands and say fine, get a gut, see if I care.
Shorting himself a cupcake was a whole hell of a lot easier than dragging his sorry ass to the gym, which Burke hated to do.
Derek Tate, his friend and boss at Rawlings’ Auto Repairs, kept nagging at Burke to go with him. Recently, he had stepped up his campaign to a level of insistence that made Burke suspicious enough that he’d called Derek on it.
“Are you trying to tell me I’m fat?” Burke had demanded.
Derek had blinked. “No. You’re not fat. You’re big.”
Burke had scowled. “Then why do you keep hassling me to come to the gym? Do they give you a discount if you rope some poor bastard in to handing over half his paycheck every month for the privilege of exercising in front of an audience?”
“I sign your paycheck, and I can assure you it doesn’t cost half. I thought you might want to expand your horizons, is all.”
Expand his horizons? “I’m not looking for a date,” he had told the grinning Derek, “but nice try.”
Burke picked up the vanilla and strawberry cupcake. He took an appreciative inhale of the thick pink frosting, and got stuck in.
The sweetness of sugar, a delicate sharp edge of strawberry, all wrapped up in mellow vanilla, exploded across his taste buds. Burke had to make an effort not to moan.
Cupcakes were his secret vice. He was more than aware that a man who looked as he did should have a secret vice like chasing tattoo-needle highs, or drinking a bottle of bourbon straight for lunch, or at the very least being in an underground fight club, but what could he say?
He was a freak of nature, and he loved cupcakes.
He made short work of the vanilla and strawberry before he remembered he only had three today. He should pace himself.
As usual at this time of the morning, the coffee shop was crowded. Residents of Emerson were rushing in and out to snag a to-go cup of coffee and a pastry before work or, if work was as close for them as it was for Burke, choosing to eat at one of the tables.
Burke’s table was as far away from the bustle as it could be. He had his back to the wall and a clear view of the shop. On one side of him was the condiment bar with coffee stirrers and packets of sweeteners or sugar, creamer, and napkins. On the other side was a table packed with a group of young women.
Burke chose this table every cupcake Tuesday because it was the quietest area of the popular establishment. Most people wanted seats at the wide front window so they could drink their coffee watching the activity on Main Street, could see and be seen. In all the time he’d been coming here, he’d never found the table occupied or, worse, been obliged to share it.
Until today.
He’d picked up his second cupcake—chocolate and coffee—peeled back the wrapper and taken a huge bite, again managing not to moan, when he glanced up and saw her.
Lila Baxter.
As if he’d bellowed her name like a moose in rut rather than thought it, she stopped scanning the shop with a fierce frown, and looked right at him. Her gingerbread-brown eyes focused with determination, she picked up her coffee, and she headed in his direction.
Burke’s heart skipped a beat, then threw itself into a dizzy rhythm.
Lila was on the phone. She had an enormous tote hanging over her shoulder, held her phone to her ear with one hand and carried the to-go coffee cup in the other.
It was to go. Why was she coming over to his table? Why wasn’t she leaving?
Burke couldn’t look away. Lila strode through the shop with a graceful swing to her curvy hips, navigating the cluttered path to his table with ease despite her high heels.
She was almost here.
Burke shot a quick glance around. Oh. His was the only table with an empty chair. That was why. No need to panic.
Lila came to a halt across from him, made deliberate eye contact, and smiled. She raised her brows.
Burke dropped his cupcake.
It landed, of course, frosting-side down.
Burke sighed.
When he looked up, Lila was still smiling. She raised her brows again, and tipped her head at the empty chair in question.
Burke jumped to his feet. Lila’s eyes widened and she watched as he stepped around to h
old the chair out for her. She stared at the chair, then at him. Then she sat, he scooted her in, and Burke took his own seat.
Lila gave him a thumbs-up.
Burke started to smile and stopped himself, frowning down at his cupcakes instead. Giving her privacy for her important call.
She didn’t recognize him, even though last night at Kurt’s, she’d actually touched him. A jackass watching the game had knocked into her, Burke had stopped her fall, she’d squeezed his shoulder in thanks. And then she’d blown him a kiss.
That kiss, so easily thrown his way, had kept him awake for hours.
Of course she didn’t recognize him. She didn’t even know he existed. Burke liked it that way. He’d put effort into keeping it that way.
From the very first moment he’d laid eyes on Lila Baxter, Burke had known he was in trouble.
It had been at Kurt’s. Burke didn’t go there often. He wasn’t a fan of crowds, or people, or socializing, but every now and then it seemed like a good idea.
That night, it had been a terrible idea, because that night he’d seen Lila.
She’d been with Jenny Finley, and they were laughing together at the bar, celebrating something or other. He couldn’t hear her words from where he sat at the other end of the bar, but her laugh had made him look up. Once he had, he’d found it impossible to look away.
His entire nervous system had just…lit up. The darnedest thing. He’d literally tingled. His heart had twisted in his chest, his lungs had stalled, and his knuckles had whitened as he’d gripped the sides of his bar stool to stop himself from getting up and drifting over to her side. He’d tucked an ankle around the stool’s leg and hunched his shoulders as he’d rubbed his chest.
Was he having a heart attack?
He was thirty-seven. Way too young for a heart attack. Right? He’d eyed the plate of spicy wings beside his beer, and pushed it away. He did not work a high-stress job. He was a mechanic. He was fit. He ran five times a week. He ate healthy food, apart from cupcake Tuesday—and occasionally cupcake Thursday—and, okay, tonight was spicy wings Friday, but still. He took care of himself.
It seemed unlikely that he was having a medical emergency.
Since Burke knew better than to fall in love with a woman he’d never met, he’d decided that it must be nothing more than lust.
Not a surprise. His last relationship had been a good three years ago. Four? Being naturally reserved in social situations, he’d never gotten the hang of casual hookups. It made sense that seeing someone like Lila could blindside him.
She was perfect. A perfect little package, a dainty fairy princess in stilettos and a pencil skirt, with a laugh that—he’d shivered when it cascaded across his sensitive nerve endings—a laugh that had him sitting there, smiling like a fool into his beer.
The visceral, primal response to her was beyond his control. His actions, however? Those he could control.
Burke had made a point of avoiding Lila. It wasn’t hard, until Jenny had started dating Derek. Suddenly Jenny and Lila were at the garage all the time and it took some serious effort on Burke’s part to keep their worlds from touching.
He’d managed it, though. Managed it well enough he had started to feel a complete idiot, ducking and diving to avoid a tiny little woman. But he was quite desperate about it. He didn’t want to meet her. He couldn’t afford to meet her.
If he actually interacted with her, how was he supposed to convince himself that these ridiculous feelings she aroused in him were nothing more than lust?
If he knew Lila as a real person, he’d fall in love. He wouldn’t be able to help himself.
Burke wasn’t stupid enough to fall in love.
Especially with someone he could never have.
Thank god she was on the phone. If they had an actual conversation, that was it. Game over. He’d be lost forever.
“Okay,” Lila was saying. “I’ll get it done this morning, and you can send it out after lunch. Yes? Great.” She ended the call, put the phone down, and looked up at Burke. “Hi!”
Burke made a noise at the back of his throat that might perhaps have developed into an appropriate response, but before he had time to get out anything more than some sort of animal grunt, her phone rang again.
It was Lila’s turn to growl. She picked up the phone, checked the display. “Excuse me,” she said to Burke, and took the call, launching right in to talking about contracts and surveys and stuff.
Burke shifted in his chair and switched his attention to his cupcake. He was eating it a lot slower than necessary, he registered with a scowl, and watched her from under his lashes.
She dug a stack of manila folders out of her tote and shuffled through, dragging one to the top. Jamming the phone between her shoulder and ear, she flipped open the folder and started to page through it, all the while continuing her conversation.
“Uh-huh. I hear you. I still think that if we hold out, we can push them to go higher.” Lila dropped the pen, glanced around and spotted the condiment bar. She leaned toward it, reaching out, and promptly got clipped by a teen with a nose-ring and combat boots. The teen yelped, juggled her cup, and nearly upended it on Lila.
“Sorry!” the teen said.
Lila waved it off and sat back. “I know you wanted three hundred,” she said to the person on the other end of the phone. “I’m telling you to hold it, and I’ll get you three point five.”
The teen fixed her coffee and scurried off.
Lila made another play for the sweetener. She leaned, groping across the distance, but her arm was too short. She half-rose, then sighed and plopped back down. “Let me check the figures. Again.” She went back to paging through the folder.
Burke got to his feet, scooped up a handful of sugar packets, a handful of sweetener, and a stirrer. Sitting, he dropped them in front of Lila.
She blinked when they hit the table, and glanced up at him. Spreading her fingers wide, she touched her hand to her chest and mouthed, Thank you. Then she separated one sweetener and the stirrer from the small pile, pushed them and her coffee cup toward him. All of this with dancing eyes.
Burke’s cheeks heated and he ducked his head. He popped the lid off her coffee, shook the packet and tore it, sprinkling the powder into the rich black liquid.
Stirring, he pondered creamer. Something told him Lila took her coffee black. He set the lid back on, lifted the cup an inch to check it was secure, and slid it to her side of the table.
Lila, still on the phone, slid a napkin over in return. She’d drawn a smiley face on it.
Burke hid his own smile in his coffee, which had cooled to barely drinkable. He should have left for work already. He drained the coffee then peeled the wrapper from his last cupcake and ate it in three bites. He folded the wrapper in preparation to leave and started to get to his feet.
Lila’s hand landed on the back of his wrist.
Burke froze.
She tapped, and he glanced up.
Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth and back up.
He swallowed. Hard.
Lila did it again, then licked her lips.
His gaze locked on. He couldn’t drag his attention away. Her lips curved in amusement as she tapped his wrist again.
Every muscle tightened. What was she doing? What did she want?
Did she want to kiss him?
A shock of raw, explicit desire coiled through Burke at the thought.
At the thought of Lila sweeping the folders off the table, climbing over it and pressing her mouth to his, breathing into him, opening up while Burke lifted her, pulled her closer, wound his hand in her hair and…
Lila pulled a small mirror from her tote, flipped it open, and held it up.
Jesus.
Head filled with passionate images, Burke was confronted with his reflection.
The good thing was, his thoughts didn’t show on his face. His eyes were burning, sure, but the intense glitter made him look kinda mean, rather than like a man
who was thinking about the hot wet slide of tongues, the intimate brush of skin on skin.
That was the good thing.
The bad thing?
He had frosting on his lip.
Burke dragged the back of his hand over his mouth, standing abruptly. He tried to get between the two tables, then changed direction when he realized he couldn’t fit.
“No, wait—” Lila reached out to stop him.
Burke gently took her hand off his forearm, and strode out.
CHAPTER THREE
It was possible that Lila had embarrassed him.
Yeah, she’d embarrassed the hell out of him.
It was the exact opposite of what she’d been trying to do.
As the girl who had on more than one occasion in high school walked around with her skirt tucked into her panties or toilet paper stuck to her shoe, or had been oblivious to the dreaded nerd/dork/fat-ass sign slapped to her back—so original—Lila made it a point to always tell someone when they were in a similar predicament.
Although, she’d never before had to tell a mountain of a man that he had a streak of pink frosting above his pretty mouth, and it had been there the entire time she’d been sitting at the table.
And he did have a pretty mouth. Wide, nice shape. A plump bottom lip that, now she came to think of it, Lila wanted to bite. He was lucky she’d shown him the mirror instead of leaning over and licking the frosting off.
He’d have been horrified, no doubt. He’d seemed shy. Also familiar, although she was almost sure she hadn’t met him before today.
Had she? No, she didn’t think so. The line of his heavy shoulders, wide and straight, did tweak her memory, though. And his eyes. He had thick black lashes around lovely clear hazel eyes, with enormous pupils like black shining pools.
He really was familiar…
Her phone squawked. “Lila? You said wait. Wait for what? Wait what? Are you still there?”
Right. Important business call. “Yep,” Lila said. “I’m here. I’m checking the figures again. Hmm.” She swallowed the last of her coffee and scooped the folders together. “These numbers don’t look right. Celeste, I’m going to have to call you back when I’m at the computer. Does twenty minutes work for you? Great. Talk to you then.”