by Vella, Wendy
"Y-yes," Willow took a deep breath as she looked at him. He’d served her exquisite coffee and the most delicious muffins in the world for twelve months at Gryphon Cafe. She’d lusted after him for every one of those months, despite speaking no more than five words to him every morning.
"I never got that," he said leaning one arm on the counter. "I mean you ate a muffin that had more calories than most everything else I had in the café, yet you ordered a skinny latte."
Willow couldn't breathe, her lungs had seized and all the saliva in her mouth had dried up. Dear God it was him. One day he'd been there for her to daydream about, the next he'd been gone.
"I guess it's your preference though right," he added standing upright again, as if her inability to speak was entirely normal. "So what's the deal, New York? You're a long way from home."
"I-ah," Willow tried to force the words past her lips.
"You all good?" He leaned over the counter and looked into her eyes. "You look kind of strange."
“No. I mean, y-yes, I'm good thank you.” She'd always thought his eyes were the color of dried sage, green with a hint of grey. He had indecently long lashes and a big solid body that had made him seem out of place behind the counter in a New York Café. But as soon as he started working, that thought had been dispelled. His elegance in the kitchen had quite literally taken her breath away the first time she'd watched him work.
"If you want your usual," he said as if she'd been in here yesterday, "then you'll have to wait while I wrestle with the coffee machine first."
Willow briefly closed her eyes to break contact and regroup. Opening them she looked at his chin. "I-I actually came here to speak with Theodore James Griffin, if he's on the premises?" Willow managed to find the calm she was known for. It had taken years of her life to perfect and she wasn’t letting a man with gorgeous eyes fluster her, even if it was this man.
"Why do you want him?"
His eyes narrowed and the temperature dropped a few degrees, as he braced two large arms on the counter. She instinctively looked to his right one, where the sleeve of his white t-shirt rose, showing the black ink of his tattoo. She'd only ever caught glimpses of it, and had always desperately wanted to see more.
"I have some papers I need to discuss with him, if you could please direct me to his location?"
His eyes held hers for a few tense seconds, before running slowly over her face and down her body. She knew what he saw; the same woman he'd seen every day in New York. Brown hair twisted in a neat bun, clothes tailored, court shoes with a sensible heel. Nothing to excite him…or any man for that matter.
"You've been directed."
"What?" Willow took a moment to understand what he'd said. "You…you're Theodore James Griffin?" She hadn't meant to sound so disbelieving but she had, and his eyes became as cold as the lake at his back.
"You have a problem with that, New York?"
"Willow," she said quickly. "Or Miss Harper, if you prefer."
She had watched this man for so long, believing him to be a hired hand, helping in the Gryphon Café. It was a shock to learn he was in fact the owner.
"If my hunch is correct and the reason you're here, New York, is to try and get me to sign something, then I'd prefer that you turn around and walk back out that door."
With those words, the man whose name she hadn't known until now turned his back on her, presenting those fine shoulders, and walked away.
"Oh but—"
"We're closed!" he roared.
Willow watched him disappear around a wall and then she was alone. Looking around her, she wondered what she was supposed to do now. Coming here and getting the papers signed had been her last chance for promotion; she couldn't leave now when she was so close.
"Will you at least talk with me?" She had to get him to sign the forms before she returned to New York or her career was over.
"No!"
"Can I have a coffee before I go?" Willow tried again. If she could just get him to come out and talk to her, perhaps he'd see what a good offer it was. "And something to eat? It was a long drive from Brook," she said raising her voice to be heard.
"There's a general store in town, I'm sure they'll have something in a packet."
Willow was suddenly revising every dream and opinion she'd ever had about the man. She'd put on six pounds because of him. Every day she had sat in the same seat, the one that was the perfect angle just to watch him work. She'd imagined so many things about him, envisaged so many scenarios, and now she knew none of them were true. He wasn't a struggling artist living in someone's bedroom, or a doctor in his last year of med school working in the café so he could eat one good meal a day. There was no grandmother who he visited once a week, taking her a favorite treat, and there was definitely no silly happy ending where he suddenly looked at Willow, really looked, and realized she was the woman he'd always loved.
She knew it wasn't justified or rational to feel as if he'd let her down, but she felt it just the same. Add that to the fact that he now held her future in the palm of his large hand and this was fast becoming one of her worst days ever, and she'd had a few of those over the years.
I gained 6 pounds because of this man!
"Asshole," she muttered, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. Willow didn't speak without thinking, nor did she curse…well hardly ever. In fact Willow Harper rarely did anything that wasn't the right thing to do.
"Pie, Griffin, stat!"
She moved to one side as two men walked in. The first, the one who'd spoken the words, wore a woolen hat pulled low to cover his ears, and a black coat with the collar up. He looked big and vital, his dark eyes snapping with energy.
"Hey, Baker Boy, get your butt out here now, I need coffee!"
The second man had a slow southern drawl, and he was equally as handsome. His black hair peaked out from a Longhorns cap which confirmed his origins, and he a thick caramel Shearling Jacket with brown wool lining. Bright blue eyes were studying the cabinets as he drew near.
"Fuck off!"
Willow couldn't help it, she gasped, which drew the eyes of both men.
"Pay him no mind, sweetheart, Griffin's just sore because I kicked his ass last night at cards."
The Texan then offered her a smile that she was sure made woman sigh, but not her. She was to tense to be charmed.
"You got a paying customer Baker Boy. Perhaps you ought to come out and serve her," the other man said.
"She was just leaving."
Both men studied her after these comments from the kitchen.
"You know him?" The green-eyed one said.
"Yes…well, no…kind of."
Dear God she'd never spoken like this before. Willow was precise and succinct. It was what had gotten her the job she was currently trying to hold onto.
"Now you just have to elaborate on that," green eyes said. "But before you do, I'm Jake and this is Ethan," he slapped the Texan hard in the chest making him grunt.
Willow felt her cheeks start to heat as the men looked at her for an explanation.
"I thought I told you we're closed!"
Willow dragged her eyes from Jake and Ethan to look at the angry owner of The Hoot Café as he stormed out from the back room.
"Griffin, this here is a lady, and my uncle always taught me that we show them respect."
Theodore didn't appreciate Ethan's words because his snarl became more pronounced.
"She's from New York and is sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong."
Jake and Ethan turned from Theodore after his little speech and once again looked at Willow.
"What’s this about?" Jake said softly, his eyes less friendly now.
"Documents," she said. "Documents that will make him a very rich man."
"Now don't go spouting off your mouth, New York. These men don't need to hear my business," Theodore Griffin snarled. "Besides, like I told your colleague, I don't want to sign. So tell your boss to stuff those forms up his corporate
ass!"
With these words, he once again stormed back to the kitchen, leaving her alone with Jake and Ethan, who were no longer as friendly as they'd been when they'd first walked in the door.
"What's your name?"
"Willow Harper."
"Well, Miss Harper, I think my friend has made his decision, so it would be best if you left now," Jake said.
Desperate now, Willow decided to plead. It wasn't her usual way of doing business, but if it achieved the results then she'd do it. "Please, just help me to get Theodore to look them over—"
"Wait…what did you call him?" The Texan said smiling.
"Theodore,” she repeated, not sure if she’d said something wrong.
"Thank you," Ethan raised his eyes skyward and started howling with laughter. "D-did, you kn-know that was his n-name?" he turned to Jake, tears now streaming down his cheeks.
"Of course I knew, you idiot," Jake said, although his eyes weren't quite so hostile now. "I went to school with him."
"A-Annabelle knows?"
Jake just gave him a look that to Willow suggested that whoever Annabelle was, she did indeed know. Ethan's laughter got louder.
"Tell me you didn't just use my Christian name in front of this asshole!" Theodore erupted out of the kitchen once more.
Seriously, the man just needed to stay in one place; all this storming backwards and forwards must be making him dizzy. Willow took a step back—this time he held a rolling pin, and he was pointing it at her.
"But it's your name," Willow said slowly. "And a very nice one it is too. I like it."
"Well fuck!" He roared at her.
"God damn, this day just got even better," the Texan said wiping his eyes.
"I don't understand," Willow looked at Jake. He was the only one not laughing or glaring at her.
"Everyone here has always known him as Buster," he said.
Willow had a sinking feeling as she looked into the angry eyes of Theodore. This meeting was not going at all as she'd planned. In fact she'd lost ground the minute she'd realized who the owner was and promptly insulted him, and had never regained it.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know," she whispered. "We…we were never on first names terms in New York, so I didn’t know Theo—” She stopped when she heard a growl from behind the counter. “Sorry, Buster’s name."
"You knew each other, but weren't on a first name basis?" The Texan frowned. "What did you call each other then?"
"She was a customer in the café, you idiot. We weren't friends!" Buster Griffin snapped. "And I told you to leave. What the hell are you still doing here?"
Willow felt the sting of tears behind her eyes as he glared at her. She wasn't a crier; it must be because she was exhausted. She hadn't even cried when she'd walked away from the only home she'd ever known all those years ago.
"Buster," the Texan spoke in a deep voice that she was sure made people jump to attention.
"What?"
"Don't speak to Willow like that. She may be bringing those papers that have you all riled up, but is she the one behind them? Or is she just a minion doing someone else’s dirty work?"
"Are you a minion?" Buster asked her.
"No," Willow felt her own anger rise. "I'm a qualified accountant with a reputable firm, and I came here, out of my way, to assist a colleague who did not have the time to do so." Okay so that was stretching the truth slightly, but she hated the word minion, because she'd spent the last two years doing what she needed to advance her career, but in no way would she ever classify herself as a minion…to anyone!
"I'll add a please to the request for you to leave then."
Willow was here to get those papers signed, which in turn assured her promotion, and there was no way she was leaving without this man's signature. "I-I'm staying here for a while, I'm combining the trip with a vacation." She said the words quickly, which made the three men give her a look that suggested they knew she'd made the story up on the spot.
"You're vacationing here, in the winter, when there's a chance of a big dump of snow, when you could go some place hot?" Jake said these words. "Seems to me you've got that all wrong, Willow."
"I burn easily," she added.
"You've sure got nice skin," Ethan said looking closer.
"Thanks," Willow felt herself blushing again. She wasn't used to people complimenting her, especially not men that looked like these ones.
"You're hitched to my best friend!" Buster growled.
"I'm not asking her to sleep with me, Baker Boy. A woman likes to be complimented, which could explain your single state."
"Fucking silken-tongued Texans," Buster snarled, before storming back to the kitchens.
How Sweet It Is – coming soon!
OTHER BOOKS BY WENDY VELLA
Historical Romances
Regency Rakes
Duchess By Chance
Rescued By A Viscount
The Langley Sisters Series
Lady In Disguise
Lady In Demand
Lady In Distress
The Lady Plays Her Ace
Stand Alone Titles
Duchess By Chance
Christmas Wishes (Novella)
The Reluctant Countess
Contemporary Romances
The Lake Howling Series
A Promise Of Home
The Texan Meets His Match