Page 10 of Buttercup and the Beard

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was going to use the bathroom before we eat. Breakfast is done,” I finish lamely.

Practically running back to the kitchen, I’d rather piss in the snow outside and get frostbite on my dick than run into Jem in the hallway.

* * *

Breakfast is an exercise in one-word conversation and not meeting each other’s eyes.

I keep my gaze down as I work my way through my food, and it’s not until I’m trying to swallow a sip of coffee that Jem speaks.

“Oh, come on. They’re just boobs. What’re we doing?”

I lift my head from my plate to find her smirking at me, and I don’t know her well enough to gauge her meaning just off her tone, so I go with the tried-and-true method of apology.

“I’m sorry. I should have knocked.”

She waves a hand at me. “This is your cabin, and as loud as my arrival was I doubt you’re used to having people here all the time. We’ll just chalk it up to a free show and leave it at that, okay?”

I nod. Because what else can I say? I can’t tell her that I enjoyed it. That would make me a perv. I can’t tell her I wonder what her skin tastes like or what sounds she would make under my hands and mouth because that’s worse than being a perv.

Instead, I glance at my phone again, willing the little bars in the top right-hand corner to show some semblance of service so I can call the station and get news on when we’ll be dug out. But the lines are still down, and the only thing changed is the percentage of battery life I still have.

“Are you okay? Your face is pretty red right now,” she asks.

“Not every day that I see a pair of tits before I finish my first cup of coffee,” I say before I think better of it.

Jem laughs. Not a dainty chuckle either. A deep belly laugh that has her mouth hanging open and her hair in her face. The carefree cadence of it makes her even more beautiful.

“Well, that’s just sad. Tits are the cornerstone of my morning, for sure,” she snarks.

The corner of my lip tips up into its own smile, and I take another drink of coffee to hide it. I don’t need to be encouraging her, especially since I have no intention of acting on whatever the hell this is.

I have other things in my life that I need to fix before I worry about my lack of dating life, much less start looking for a significant other.

“How long have you lived in Felt?” I ask, hoping to ease some of the tension.

“About eight years now. After I graduated from high school in Boise, I tried a few places briefly, but this was the first one I landed in where I wanted to stay.”

“You’ve been working for Ally for about that long, right?”

She nods. “Yep. Started part-time when I first moved here. She had just opened about the year before, I think it was. What about you? I know you’ve only been here for about five years, but where’s home?”

“Everette. I grew up in Everette, went to Boise State for college, and worked at a couple of different ranger stations around the state before landing a position here in Felt.”

“Do you like it?”

I nod. “Yeah. It’s what I always wanted to do with my life.”

Jem smiles at me as she pops the last piece of her toast in her mouth and stands, then walks to the sink. I watch as she washes the plate and puts it in the dish rack next to the sink before she comes back to the table for her cup. Seeing my own empty plate, she reaches out as if to grab it.

“I’ve got it,” I say before she can take it.

“Nonsense. You cooked—a very good breakfast I might add—so I’ll clean up.”

“That’s very…fair.”

She shrugs. “I can’t cook to save my life, so the fact that I didn’t have to worry about my first meal of the day makes me pretty grateful, so I don’t mind doing the dishes. Consider it a reward for your efforts to go along with the free show.”

“You can’t cook?” I ask.

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