Page 13 of Angel Eyes

A scrawny kid with braces shot his hand into the air, bouncing on his toes like he had won a sweepstakes. “I am. Do I get something special?”

“No,” I said flatly.

My eyes swept over the rest of the group, but much to my irritation, no one else spoke up. I scrubbed a hand over my face. Why did there always have to be one?

We were already running behind schedule and, as much as I hated to leave without this mysterious student, she was giving me little choice. Fortunately, the rest of the group had been content to wait patiently—no doubt thanks to the mild sunshine and free coffee—but I couldn’t keep them waiting much longer.

“Thank you, everyone, for your patience. We’ll be heading out shortly. Please dispose of any trash and feel free to use the restrooms.” Without waiting for a response, I spun on my heel and headed into the shop.

What was Nora thinking? Standard policy required a name and email address be provided with all reservations for this very reason—when someone didn’t show up.

I stalked to the front desk and snatched my phone off the counter, my jaw clenching as I dialed Nora’s number. She would likely rip me a new one for calling her this early on a Saturday, but at the moment, I couldn’t care less. It was her fault for not including complete information in the first place, so she could just deal with it.

The phone rang once, twice.

“Hello?” A female voice floated across the room.

I glanced up and froze, the phone slipping from my fingers as all the breath punched out of my lungs in a dizzying rush. There she was, standing in the doorway in a pale blue sweater, her brown-gold hair cascading around her shoulders in tumbling waves.

Juliet.

She seemed to recognize me about half a second after I recognized her, and she sucked in a sharp inhale. “It is you,” she said, her voice soft like a whisper of velvet.

I’d forgotten how much I liked the sound of it.

I had the presence of mind to hang up the phone but remained rooted to the spot, my eyes roaming over her, not wholly convinced she was even there. I cataloged the almond shape of her eyes and her delicate features dusted with cinnamon-colored freckles before I let my gaze drop to her mouth, her full lips parted on an exhale, her cheeks flushed with color.

God, she was pretty.

Unconsciously, my eyes dipped lower. Her sweater was like the one she’d been wearing when we met, but the bottom half of her outfit was different. Instead of the floral skirt that had since become imprinted on my brain, she was wearing a pair of cutoff denim shorts that hugged her thighs in a way that would drive a blind man to distraction.

“Juliet,” I said, sounding sturdier than I felt. “You’re … are you here for the tour?”

As soon as I said it, understanding clicked into place. The female student. I had no idea how, but I was certain Nora had something to do with Juliet’s appearance. And instead of giving me a heads-up, she deliberately withheld the information from me, the little minx.

Juliet blinked. “Oh, yeah. Sorry I’m late. I got lost on the way.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, grinding a fist into my sternum to loosen the tension in my chest. Willing my legs into motion, I rounded the desk only to stop a few feet away from her as a breeze from the window carried her scent toward me. Was that vanilla and lavender?

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I took a decided step backward.

“I was just about to get everyone set up with their safety equipment if you’re ready to go.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, and I swear my stomach bottomed out when she peeked up at me from beneath her lashes.

Come on. Get your shit together.

There was no reason she should be affecting me this much, and I needed to get myself in check fast. Because whatever this was, this strange electricity that pulsed through my veins every time I got close to her, it spelled nothing but trouble.

And I’d already had enough of that for one lifetime.

In any case, she didn’t call, I reminded myself, so I might as well take five on the existential crisis. Steeling myself with that knowledge, I nodded toward the door behind her.

“Shall we?”

Two and a half hours later, I stood at the back entrance of the shop, putting away the last of the equipment and double-checking that all the bikes were securely locked.

The tour went well—better than usual, in fact. I’d been in a good mood, so I spent extra time at each location, expounding on the historical and architectural details of each museum and monument we visited. Whenever anyone showed a particular interest in a place, I made a point to answer all their questions. I offered up my services as an amateur photographer whenever someone wanted a picture. I gave restaurant recommendations, pointed out the best gift shops, and even stopped to let the group watch a street performer on roller skates.

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