by Sara Brookes
Patrick held up a hand and shook his head. “No way. I won't have you paying after you just bailed my ass out of trouble. Whatever you want—on the house.”
“I wouldn't let Nick hear you say that too often.” She pointed to a selection of berry scones, cinnamon rolls and coffee flavored Danishes and waited while Patrick boxed them up. As he ducked down to get a larger box, she dropped a twenty into the tip jar. One thing she wouldn't do is stiff the brothers during their first full week.
Her fingers brushed over Patrick's hand as he handed the box to her and she liked the feel of his skin against hers. She couldn't tell if it was a deliberate gesture on his part, but found she didn't mind either way. It wasn't often a guy took the time to flirt with her and even if he forgot about her the second she walked out the door, it didn't matter. For a few seconds, his touch reminded her that she was very much still a woman despite the adeptness with computers and affinity for video games.
He broke the connection as he turned to give directions to the newly arrived barista. She started to leave, but stopped when he held up a hand. “Did you want another espresso for the road?”
While she didn't want anything as strong as the first drink, it didn't mean she couldn't take him up on the offer. Never turn your back on an excellent cup of coffee—especially when it was free. “Can I just get a large black instead?”
“Easy enough.”
That piping hot cup of gold was clutched in her hand a few minutes later as she stepped out of the coffeehouse. Her whole body felt as if it held a rosy glow and an overall sense of calm washed through her. Try as she might, she couldn't wipe the smile off her face because of the chance meeting.
From now on, her daily morning cup of coffee also meant an eyeful of man candy as well.
Now that was something to drink to.
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* * *
Chapter Two
Patrick fondled the business card he'd slipped into his pocket. He should turn it over to Nick so they could have the computer systems at the coffeehouse repaired and upgraded, but once he did, he'd never see it—and possibly Allison—again. Nick, a chronic case of disorganization, would lose the card at some point and the business would either be left in a lurch with a shitty computer system or another company when things became desperate.
The problem could be avoided by telling Nick he would handle the issue and then make the order with Bullseye. Nick would have one less thing to worry about. Considering everything on his brother's plate, it was more than tempting to jump in and take over.
Nick was the major stakeholder even though the purchase of the coffeehouse had been both of their ideas. Unfortunately, the timing couldn't have been worse. Vivian, Nick's wife of four years, cleaned her things out of the house without explanation two weeks ago. Nick was still trying to come to terms with what happened and Patrick found himself left to handle most of the grand re-opening duties. Luckily, right now was the slowest time of year for the small town where they lived.
Nestled amid the northern edges of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia, Gatlin Falls was a town that thrived on its tourist seasons. Each summer, it was the families on their summer vacation who sought relief from the humidity in the lower elevations. The fall brought couples in search of the mysterious romance of the changing leaves and winter appealed to the thrill-seeking skiers who enjoyed throwing themselves down the side of the mountains.
They'd grown up not far from here, so both of them were familiar with how the pattern of life went in the small town. Spring was actually the slow season for the town and that was why they'd timed their opening for mid-April. It would allow them to work out all the rough spots before the summer tourists started to arrive. The first test of that was earlier this morning when the computer system had crapped out on him.
Allison had thankfully swept in and saved the day like some modern day superhero. He'd been so caught up in the preparations his brother was supposed to handle that they had both forgotten the basic necessity to ensure everything ran smoothly. That included the computer system to make sure it ran without any hitches.
Computers weren't his favorite thing to deal with and left them to those who fully understood them. He was helpless beyond checking his email once in a while or finding directions for a business trip. Growing up, his interest had always been more focused on the baseball field.
As he began to count the inventory in the backroom, his mind wandered to a certain someone who'd swooped in out of nowhere. It was easy to remember the way she'd filled out the boy-cut jeans she'd been wearing. They were baggy around her legs, but tight around her hips and across the rounded curve of her ass. He'd taken more than a few long glances at the way those jeans stretched and pulled as she moved.
He couldn't help it. Everything about her, from the fit of her jeans to the fiery red color at the tips of her sandy blonde hair intrigued him and made him want to get to know her better. She was obviously intelligent, if the way she'd handled the computer this morning was any indication. Something in his gut told him that computers were the only thing she sought to take charge of so easily. He was familiar enough with what most women wanted when it came to relationships and sex. Those long glances she'd cast his direction were unmistakable.
His imagination ran wild now and he nearly salivated at the picture in his head as she knelt on the floor before him. Expectation shone clear in those brown eyes and he blew out a slow breath to steady himself at the image. Despite his efforts, his cock stirred and pressed painfully against the zipper of his trousers. With a loud curse, he turned and forced his mind back to the inventory. However, the mindless task of counting supplies was too monotonous and that creative mind wandered to places he couldn't control. He couldn't get Allison—and what he wanted to do both with her—out of his mind.
The sheet of paper fluttered to the ground as he released it in frustration. He had just counted the same box of coffee filters three times. It was time to take matters into his own hands. Besides, Nick had enough to worry about. This would simply help ease the burden and, if things went as he intended, everyone would win.
Before he could change his mind, her work number was already entered into his cell phone and he'd stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the store. The spring sun glowed high in a cloudless blue sky and he tipped his head toward it in appreciation as the phone rang. Birds chirped their sweet mating songs and he thought about how this day just couldn't get any better.
“Bullseye Technologies, Allison Stuart.”
He was wrong—it could.
He closed his eyes in appreciation as her voice sounded over the line. The noise of it ran through his veins and enhanced the images he'd conjured earlier. Given his interests with out-of-the-ordinary sex, it was dangerous to let himself think this freely about someone without knowing if they shared the same interests. It forced him to focus on the task at hand. “I hear there's a new coffeehouse in town that has a barista who makes a mean doppio.”
“Well sure, but their computer system is shit.”
“Imagine that—it's exactly why I'm calling. How are you?” This call would be kept casual, no doubt. At least he was determined to keep it that way. The simple question of how her day was going seemed to be the best option. It would mean there was less danger to his libido that way.
“Calm, for now.” She snorted lightly and he smiled at the noise of it. “My boss wants me to partition a new drive on the server he had me install a few weeks ago. Of course, he won't listen to me whenever I tell him he has plenty of room for right now and I just realized I'm babbling. Sorry, I do that when I talk on the phone sometimes because I'm more of a face to face sort and shit, shit, shit—I just did it again.”
Her fluster was completely charming and his interest in Allison kicked up a few notches. There was more about her that he wanted to know. All in due time. “No need to apologize, it's cute.”
Allison cleared her throat. “Which is to say boring. I've
got two brothers, Mr. Conners. I know what it means when a girl has been fed the cute line. So what exactly can I do for you?”
His mouth formed a thin line as he hadn't meant it the way it sounded. Her curt dismissal of the compliment made it seem as if she wasn't someone who received them often. If he had anything to say about that, it wouldn't continue. He desperately wanted to show her that she was much more than just simply cute. “Well, you said the store needed a whole new system because this one was outdated.”
“You'll need a significant upgrade at least. Even then there's no guarantee it will help because the system may be too old to handle the size of the data we'd throw at it.”
“And here I thought size didn't matter.” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. The intent had been to keep the tone of the conversation light and friendly and here he made some comment that could easily been construed as anything but. Damn his overactive brain.
Nick would scold him at this point in the conversation because he'd stepped far over the line. As he wondered if he'd said too much, gone too far, the musical sound of her laughter drifted through the phone line and Patrick relaxed.
“Now that's cute. My brain seems to want to be everywhere but where it should be at the moment. Now, Davis is the head of the sales department and he's the one you're going to want to talk to in order to get you hooked up with the equipment.”
Disappointment thudded heavily in his gut even though he understood and could sympathize for the inability to concentrate on something. He'd wanted to deal strictly with her in the hope he would get to see her again. He did his best not to let the emotion filter through his voice. “And what's his number?”
“I'm going to transfer you and put a note on the work order that I'll handle the job at the shop personally. It's the least I can do.”
He walked back into Perfect Shot ten minutes later with a wide grin in place. The computer equipment was ordered and Davis had assured him the team from Bullseye would begin the installation of the system on Thursday. Since it was Monday, and he was tied up at the shop for the rest of today, it gave him two days to prep.
Two days to hope for something more with Allison. He was actually excited about the prospect of shopping since his version was by far what most people considered abnormal.
When it came to his sex life, normal didn't even enter into the equation.
Allison flipped the light on in her kitchen and scowled at the stack of dirty dishes that had piled up over the last few days. Her cleaning duties had gone lax even though she promised herself—each and every New Year's Eve—she wouldn't.
Resolution blown months ago, the dishes could sit for another night. Instead, she pulled a clean glass down from an overhead shelf and snagged the cordless phone from its cradle to dial her favorite Thai take-out. The plethora of delivery food services in town for tourists was one of the great things about living in a small but busy town.
She ordered more food than intended, but could always eat it cold for breakfast in the morning. Chilled ginger chicken wasn't the breakfast of champions, but it wasn't as if she were the epitome of healthy eating. Her diet consisted of so much junk food it was a wonder she managed to keep her womanly figured. More often than not, she ate out rather than cooked and had no doubt her father—a doctor—would give a stern lecture about healthier eating choices if he ever found out.
But that was the beauty of being a grownup—her life, her choices.
As she replaced the phone in its cradle, her heavy sigh echoed into the emptiness of the small cottage she purchased after arriving in town. How pathetic could one human be? She'd just ordered food that could be eaten right out of the delivery container in order to avoid the dishes. It was even worse that she already planned to eat the leftovers for breakfast the next morning to avoid the need to cook.
There was a soft chime from the computer in the corner, a signal someone wanted to chat. She scooped up her fat orange and gray tabby, Boo, as she bypassed the computer equipment entirely and sat on the couch.
She was supposed to be celebrating because Davis decided to give her most of the commission for the equipment Patrick ordered for the store. Not only would she make money from the install, she would also pull in extra cash for the sale. Given the amount, she suspected Patrick had no clue what he'd ordered. On the other hand, he could have ordered everything top of the line. If that was the case, then he should be admired for his tenacity to jump right in without knowing what he'd gotten himself into.
Davis had invited her, and the rest of the employees in the department, to the bar to celebrate the large sale. However, she hadn't been in the mood to party.
Her mind wandered instead.
Throughout the day, she'd thought about the banter with Patrick, both over the phone and earlier at the coffeehouse. She still couldn't bring herself to believe he had more than a passing interest and attributed the looks he'd given her as merely natural charm. She was a customer at his business after all.
However, she could still admire from afar. In fact, she excelled at the appreciation of a man at a distance. It wasn't as if there were a swarm of suitors to hang on her every word.
Brainy and boring were not something men went for.
Undoubtedly, she'd see quite a bit of the handsome man even after completion of the install because the store was convenient and served some of the best espresso in the immediate vicinity.
At least she possessed excellent visualization skills and it would provide her with exceptional material for months to come. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, frustrated because it was—sadly—the best prospect for sex in months.
The doorbell rang and she swept Boo to the floor as she dug in her back pocket for some cash. A familiar face greeted her as she opened the door. “Hey, AJ.”
The short, blond teenage boy tipped his head and tapped the rim of his tattered UVA baseball hat in greeting. “How's it going, Alley? Hey, I've been meaning to ask you if you ever got past the level on Halo that was giving you some trouble the last time I saw you?”
She gathered her hair back into a ponytail and secured it with a shake of her head. “Actually, no, I didn't. The team I was with at the time had to split and I haven't had time to log back in to try again. Been swamped with work.”
He pulled a vivid green business card from his pocket and handed it to her along with the white plastic bag filled with food. “Here's my cousin's screen name, he's a whiz at Halo. Any first person shooter game really. I'll tell him I gave you his name and you two can hook up when you need someone to game with.”
“Thanks, I'll give it a shot.” She handed him a few bills to cover the tab and the tip. Still disgusted with the state of the kitchen, she settled on the couch once again and dug into the bag. Her eyes fluttered closed at the scent of the spicy ginger and pulled out a pair of chopsticks to separate them.
She wasn't in the mood to fire up her Xbox, but what other possibility was there? Losing herself in the game world for a while would help her forget how miserably pathetic her life was. The choice to boot up the game system was yet another reason why men didn't beat a path to her door.
Most men didn't like women who worked with computers for a living or even had animated avatars to game with during their down time. It didn't help she was the only female in her department at the office. As one of the few woman in a male dominated industry, it didn't bother her because she knew how to hold her own. It was easy to keep up with the best of them and the fact she'd beaten most of their test scores was her own little personal triumph of genius. One she thought of whenever her male geek friends called or came over just to use the big flat screen television that hung on the wall. It was a damn good thing she was sure of who she was and comfortable with her place in this world or else she might start to feel sorry for herself.
“Bit late for that, isn't it?” Her voice echoed through the empty room. She'd wallowed since walking through the front door a short time ago. The warm glow she'd
experienced when she left Perfect Shot this morning had dulled and faded to leave a tarnished cast on the day. The wild mood swing wasn't characteristic for her.
A deep scowl etched a few wrinkles on her forehead as the wireless headset was slipped into place over her ears. The gaming machine flared to life as she tapped the button under the television. She dug into a container as the game booted and chewed silently on a few noodles as she waited.
This was the downside of moving. She ate alone quite a bit, but it beat the suffocation of living so close to her family. The suffocation had gotten so bad, the need to be out on her own, to simply breathe, had been overwhelming.
Despite the family's protest, she'd uprooted her life a few years ago on her thirtieth birthday and packed everything important in her home on Glass Island and high-tailed it to the mountains of Virginia. Occasions like this made her miss the sparkling Atlantic Ocean just off the coast of North Carolina. Especially the early mornings she climbed the Widow's Walk in the dim early morning darkness and watched the explosion of sunrise with a cup of coffee in hand. The small cottage she currently lived in was tucked into the shadows of the Blue Ridge Mountains. While the sunrise here was certainly spectacular, with the slow rise of the glowing ball of fire over the ridges, they paled a little in comparison to the sparkling blue water.
While the island sunrise couldn't compare, there was one distinct thing the island didn't have.
Patrick Conners to serve her coffee.
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* * *
Chapter Three
“Think we're finished up here. When you have some time, I'll show you the basics.”
Patrick looked at the endless line that stretched away from the counter. For the past week, the three o'clock rush had become a daily occurrence at the coffeehouse. The week had flown by at the speed of light.