"Good morning, you must be Alexis. I'm Jonathon."
I closed my eyes, pulling myself back.
"Good morning." My response came out in a whisper. I shook myself to regain my composure.
"I thought your cafe would be open by now."
He smiled, displaying his pearly white teeth,
"We are only open for brunch on Sundays to accommodate the church goers," he said waving me ahead of him.
He led me to a small two-seater table near the back with a full view of the fishing ports where men were already unloading for the day. I watched the men work as he pulled out a chair for me to sit. Before he was able to sit down himself his shirt pocket began to vibrate. He pulled his phone out with an apologetic look warming his dark eyes. Instead of ignoring it his whole face darkened with barely leashed anger.
"I am sorry, Alexis, but I must take this." The growl in his voice cut through the smile he tried to hide it with. Even in the next room the walls were too thin to completely block out his end of the call.
"Sebastian…" The conversation muffled inaudibly. "Can it not wait?" The same growl laced his question. His voice rose and fell harshly. Whoever Sebastian was I could already tell they did not have a great relationship. Moments later Jonathon re-emerged, outwardly unaffected by the call.
"Again, I apologize for the interruption." His whole attitude never gave way to the anger that Sebastian clearly invoked.
"This interview may have to be brief. I have some rather urgent business that has come up."
"That’s okay." The growls of my stomach echoed that sentiment. His eyes ran up and down my resume with the same hint of intrigue any red blooded male would give a pretty girl. The temperature in the cafe rose exponentially within seconds, running its own path along my body.
"So how soon can you start?" His heated gaze finally giving me the attention that my body so strongly desired. I was instantly falling while his eyes pierced that oddity that I held inside of me. I couldn't do anything but brace the table and breathe through it.
"Ms. Davis, is everything okay?" But the feeling was gone so abruptly, without his questioned concern I would have thought I imagined it.
"Everything is fine, Mr. Evans. I skipped breakfast this morning and I think I’m paying for it now."
"Then that is a much better reason to cut this interview short. Is there anything else?"
"Is this how you conduct all your interviews?"
His smile would have made any dentist swoon.
"I mean, you don't have any questions for me? I have never actually worked in a cafe before." Great, now I was stammering.
His laugh came out just as perfect as that smile. The sound was pure masculinity in its most raw form.
"Well, Ms. Davis, if I didn't know better I would say you are trying to talk me out of hiring you.”
"Oh no, I would very much like a job." Even his nod of acknowledgment was disorienting, what the hell was wrong with me?
"Like I said, this interview needs to be short and I don't see a reason not to hire you. So if you want the job, come back at eleven to get acquainted with your position."
"Of course." The heat and weirdness of this whole interview began to fade, and I was thankful for that. With nothing else to discuss, Jonathon rose and came around the small table. When I stood up Mr. Evans cocked his head as if he was contemplating something.
"What is it, Mr. Evans?"
He stood silent for a moment as if he was trying to figure out how to put words to his response. "Is money of no consequence to you?"
It took me a moment to realize what he meant. I never once asked what the hourly wage was. I just accepted his offer with no questions of my own. I couldn't tell him the truth; that his eyes made me feel like I was falling into a bottomless pit and the worst part was that I wished I would have let myself fall.
"Maybe the unorthodox methods of your interview tactics caught me off guard," I said with smile instead.
"Maybe." His eyes shined with mischief.
"May I ask, what is the starting pay?” I was homeless and far from anyone that could help me. So why hadn't I thought to ask him how much I was going to get paid?
"I will see you at eleven if you are still interested in the job." Did his voice just lower an octave or two? With that he headed towards the back with a low chuckle trailing behind.
Since the cafe wasn't open and I was starving I set out in search of a restaurant that was open for breakfast. I found a perfect little bistro that sat right up against the shore. There was even a notice that stated: IN CASE OF LARGE WAVES, RESTAURANT WILL BE CLOSED. The only way to get closer to the ocean would be to rent a boat. The restaurant’s balcony had perfect seating giving me a great view of the water. I wrapped my shawl tighter around my arms, protecting my skin from the salty wind that every so often reminded me of its presence. They didn't have my caramel macchiato, but plain coffee with a bit of real cream and sugar would work just as well. As I sipped my coffee and waited for my breakfast I watched the fishermen make deals with local buyers. I even became fascinated with the seagulls doing a bit of fishing themselves. My intrigue in the scenery extended well past the time I was finished with my meal.
"I assume since you are finished with your coffee I shouldn't expect to be wearing it this morning."
His sudden appearance spiked the irritation that I had built up from yesterday. I was planning on leaving soon anyway, but the mystery man was suddenly standing in my path. The way he stood smacked of curiosity rather than the loosely sheathed anger from yesterday. His husky blue eyes didn't elicit the same effect as earlier today with Jonathon but they held something in them that I couldn't name. He cocked his head back and forth, further emphasizing the animal like qualities he'd exhibited earlier.
"Sir, if you would excuse me I have to get ready for work," drawing out the word work on purpose. His eyes flashed with something unrecognizable as he took in my tattoo.
"Ms. Davis, I am quite aware of your plans today, but I am sure you have a few minutes to spare. Walk with me; I need to make amends for my prior behavior. I’m usually not so short with a beautiful lady."
Who was this guy? I was sure he learned my name from my resume so stupidly left behind. I wished I could kick myself for that, but how did he know my plans for today? Hell, I didn't even know what they were until a few hours ago.
"Are you stalking me now?" I wasn’t generally so blunt; maybe his rudeness was rubbing off. His laughter caught me off guard. I watched as his chest rose and fell, molding his gray t-shirt around his muscular build. I had to focus; this was the same pompous ass from yesterday. I quickly tore my eyes away, refocusing them on the key to my escape; the exit. I jumped as he reached to touch my elbow as if he were going to guide me out with him.
"Don't even think about it. I need to pay the tab and be on my way." My annoyance was quickly boiling over to anger, making my tone harsh. I looked around to see if any of the other patrons would come to my aid. Everyone else that had taken their breakfast on the balcony acted as though they didn't see us at all. Even with the shrill in my voice he made no move to drop his hand from my sleeve.
"Look, I don't hold grudges so there is no need to make amends for your foul, stuck up attitude. I've always believed that a man shows his true nature when caught off guard." I couldn't help the sneer that laced my words.
The laughter ceased immediately giving way to the same features that I had filed away under how to describe the owner of Antiques and Oddities.
"Ms. Davis…” he began.
"My name is Alexis," I interrupted. I hated such formality. I have always been the type to treat people the way I would want to be treated but in his case that just wouldn't work. I hated to be interrupted so as a rule of thumb I never interrupted anyone else, but I guess I needed to operate on the same level as him to be able to leave—faster and alone. I watched his jaw tick as we stared at each other on the balcony of the restaurant.
"What is your name?" My curio
sity led me to lose whatever battle we were in. "The name I have for you is quite unappealing. I don't think you would like it much."
His tick faltered while he fought against a smile. I was beginning to wonder about his mental stability.
"Ms. Davis, my name is Sebastian Gates. It is a pleasure to finally be formally introduced. I also have taken the liberty of paying off your breakfast tab. Now, may we go?" The introduction sent chills up my spine. Behind those true blue eyes I saw calculation and a predator that sat dangerously close to the surface. That was how he knew about my new job. He was the call that had interrupted my interview. Unless there was more than one Sebastian, and that would be a hell of a coincidence. I also knew that defying his request would not be a wise choice.
"Alexis, again, call me Alexis." I was sure he was fully aware of my sudden tension. I couldn't hide it. If he did, he didn't question it.
As we walked towards the cafe I couldn't help but admire Sebastian Gates. Aside from his blatant intolerance and bloated arrogance, the external package was straight out of one of those romance novels my mother used to read. His movements were sleek, with a predators glide; further defining what I had thought of him so far. His lean body and wide gait gave definition to the clothes on his back instead of vice versa. Normal people wore clothes to accent what they have but for him the opposite was true. His true black hair, again, ran in a braid that extended midway down his back. I had a momentary image of running my hands through it, loosening the braid until...I shook myself releasing the unwanted image. No, I could not think of Sebastian Gates that way. Why would I? The list of cons outnumbered his pros ten to one; the only pro being his appearance.
During my inner monologue Sebastian had slowed and was now keeping pace with me helping to break my assessment.
"Ms. Davis...I mean Alexis. Do you always walk with little regard to where you are going?"
I blinked and looked around, noting that instead of the cafe we had wound up on the steps of the Inn. I wasn't sure of the game he was playing. What was his goal in walking with me? We had no conversation nor did he attempt to make up for his previous behavior.
"Thank you for the company, I have to change my shoes and be on my way. I'm sure I can handle it from here." I purposefully disregarded his question.
He inclined his head in acknowledgment without taking his eyes from mine. A warm shiver slid down my spine.
On my way towards my room I couldn't help but turn to see if he had left. He was still standing there, staring at me with vicious intensity. A vivid flash of a memory not my own had me working not to stumble. Warm, rough finger tips ghosted across my stomach. The feeling of his hard sex pushing against my back had me reeling, reaching for the railing that ran the length of the hallway. With forced effort I finished my trip without breaking out in an all-out run. The door slammed behind me and my breath was hard and heavy as blood boiling heat surged through my body. My legs were numb and buckled, sending my body sliding down the door. I could still feel warm hands riding up my bare legs. His callused thumbs sliding against my slick heat. The smell of sweat and cedar filled my nostrils, overloading any other sense.
"What the fuck was that?" I knew my question would go unanswered by my empty room but the release was all I was aiming for. I don’t know how long it took me to remember where or why I was even here. When my legs began to regain their feeling I changed into a pair of Puma tennis shoes, ran a brush through my hair and checked my makeup in the mirror. I said a quick prayer that I would be alone for my trip to work and headed out the door and was thankful that the spot that had once occupied Sebastian now sat empty.
CHAPTER THREE
The cafe was only a few blocks away, and I made it without acquiring another stalker. The closed sign still hung in the front window but unlike this morning, a sleek blood red Jaguar sat in front of the two-story building. But the main attraction was my new boss leaning against the hood of the car. I pushed any thoughts of Sebastian out of my head, focusing completely on the man in front of me. Jonathon made a damn attractive hood ornament in his pinstriped business suit. His dimpled smile and relaxed stance gave the high dollar car a run for its money for who was the real show stopper. In a town like Reedsport, which prided itself in its work in the fishing industry, I couldn’t figure out why there were not one, but two men that could easily fit in somewhere like New York City. Instead they ran small businesses here. Maybe they had close ties here that couldn't be broken. But a more pressing question was how I wound up dealing with both of them on the same day. In school I was lucky just to grab the attention of the professors.
Jonathon looked as though he was memorizing every aspect of my arrival as I closed our distance, never once changing his leisurely stance. I saw his eyes hesitate over my chest and stopping at my shoes. His eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. He didn't seem to care for my choice in footwear but there was no way I could work in heels. I just wasn't wired that way.
"Good afternoon, Alexis," he purred.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Evans."
Jonathon pulled himself away from his car placing his chest right in my line of sight. The tailored suit fit more like a glove, accenting every ripple that it was trying to hide. Prying my eyes away, I noticed he had his hand extended and waiting. I met his jet black eyes with embarrassment written clearly across my face but he gave away little more than patient amusement. I clasped his outstretched hand and without time to react he pulled me flush with his body.
"Why did you change your shoes?" His breath fluttered against my cheek. I shuddered from the contact, causing Jonathon to flash a mischievous grin in return.
I stepped back without needing to feign confusion. I still held his hand which engulfed my own.
"I don't know about your other waitresses, but there is no way I could work in heels." If I was going to be on my feet for eight hours, comfortable shoes were a must.
"Alexis, do you really think I would hire you to be a waitress? Our manager left quite unexpectedly and you will fill her position."
I mentally poured over my resume to try to find any reason he would have to find me qualified to run a café; nothing. He stared at me begging me with those sexy eyes to question his decision.
"Thank you, Mr. Evans," I said, my voice coming out shaky. His nearness had me flustered.
"It has always been my pleasure. Now please call me Jonathon." He finally let go of my hand, giving us a little distance. His eyes grazed my body giving one more obvious assessment before turning towards the cafe.
My shoes crunched into the gravel as we wound around to the back of the building where three other cars were parked. Thankfully, all of them were more like mine. He led me through the employee only entrance that opened into a hallway, passing an office and heading further into the main part of the building. I ignored the loud squeak of my shoes as the sound traveled in front of us down the hall. He was breathtaking even from behind. The thought of what must lie under all those clothes fluttered across my thoughts, leaving as quickly as it came. Finally, the hall opened up into the cafe that I remembered from yesterday.
"Would you like to meet your co-workers?" he asked, turning to give me a mind blanking smile.
The cafe was a writer’s dream. Soft lighting gave the cafe a laid back quality. Two plush sofas surrounded a refurbished wooden coffee table and about a dozen free standing tables were randomly placed throughout the space. A small stage lined one wall. I wondered if they had karaoke or a poetry night. It was quaint and cute and fit perfectly in this small town. Our entrance caught the attention of two girls that looked not much older than myself. They barely gave me a second glance as they set out condiments and table cloths on the various tables. Sweet smells of pastries and coffee wafted from the kitchen causing my stomach to grumble with unexpected hunger. Jonathon whistled and waved the staff over to where we stopped by the sofas. A tall muscular man in a cook’s uniform caught my eye as he came out from somewhere in the kitchen that sat just out of sight. Everythi
ng from his mocha complexion to his honey colored eyes was attractive. I wasn't into older guys, but even his salt and peppered hair cut short against his scalp made it easy to bend my normal standards for him. He reminded me of a football player but the softness in his face and deep laugh lines said he had stopped long ago. The cook gave me a polite wink and smile as he came to stand next to me at the sofa. He smelled delicious, like freshly baked pastries with a hint of spice mixed in.
His entrance made Jonathon stiffen visibly; standing up so abruptly the sofa that he was lounging on made a groan in protest.
"Alexis." The thick irritation in his voice was almost palpable. His arm curled around my waist, herding us to the farthest side of the lounge area as far from the cook as possible.
My instincts vibrated with defiance, so instead of conceding I strolled back to my original spot. My eyes locked with his in complete challenge. I didn't know how long we stood there, both of us stubborn in our own right. I could tell he was at war with himself; whether to let it be or grab me and jerk me back to his chosen spot. But if he knew me at all by now he would know he couldn't win. Finally in defeat, he poured himself back onto the sofa regaining his carefree presence.
Everyone else in the room seemed to have found something way more interesting to hold their attention. By their expressions they must be used to him being the Alpha; but I didn't do submissive. Alexis one, Jonathon zero. My score caused a small smile to bloom across my face. Jonathon arched one manscaped eyebrow clearly not getting what I found amusing.
Throughout our impromptu meeting I learned that the two waitresses were Jo and LeAnn, and the cook was Mack. The girls normally took separate shifts unless it was Sunday rush and Mack was the only cook on staff. Jonathon stood to introduce me, placing his hands lightly atop my shoulders. The warmth from his hands felt natural against my skin. My body reacted in delight—almost like it had been in mourning all these years, making concentration necessary to not relay my reaction to the others. It became harder and harder to maintain normalcy when he pressed the length of his body against my back. I forced myself not to reciprocate by arching myself into him. The world tried to spin, forcing me to inwardly pull all my self-control front and center. That helped me think and assess the situation a little better. He acted as though I was a possession that needed to be claimed and my brain adamantly denied that thought while my body wanted to melt into his possession.
Aconite (The Elektita Series Book 1) Page 2