Page 17 of Should Have Been Me

I could have sworn I heard her say, “Holy shit. Not again,” under her breath as she whipped back around to her table and snatched up a wad of paper napkins. “I’m really sorry.” She spoke at a rapid-fire pace as she dabbed and rubbed at the coffee stain on the front of my shirt that was finally cooling, but had rendered another shirt ruined. “I swear, I didn’t do this on purpose.”

A bolt of electricity shot through me at her touch, the current traveling beneath my skin and creating this strange pins-and-needles effect I’d only ever felt when a limb had fallen asleep. Thrown by the sensation, I grabbed her wrists to stop her, jerking when that simple touch caused a static shock I knew she felt by the way those expressive eyes of hers flared when they shot back to mine.

I dropped her wrists, breaking the connection, and did my best to shake off the disconcerting feeling. My brows climbed higher up my forehead. “You sure about that?” I meant it to be teasing, but that simple touch left me flustered. And judging by the way her brows slammed together in a frown, my tone was much more brusque than I meant for it to be.

She promptly stopped smearing the coffee stain, oblivious that she was only making it worse, and shot me a killing look. “Of course I’m sure. I’d never intentionally cause someone pain... or ruin a perfectly good cup of coffee, for that matter.”

“Um, do you guys know each other?”

I looked at her companions. I didn’t recognize the one who’d asked the question, but the other woman sitting beside her was the one who’d assisted with this lady’s cat the day of our first encounter. She elbowed the blonde sitting next to her. “That’s the guy I was telling you about. The one Smoosh climbed like a tree.”

I fought back the curl in the corner of my mouth as I turned back to the woman who couldn’t seem to stop physically assaulting me. “I take it Smoosh is your devil cat?”

“Yes,” the blonde answered quickly at the same time Calamity Jane over there cried, “She’s not a devil cat!”

Her friends did a terrible job of trying to mask their snickers, earning an evil glare from Calamity.

It hit me that I still didn’t know this woman’s name, which sat in my stomach like a lead ball for some reason, but the nickname I’d come up with in my head fit her to a tee.

With her focus on her friends for the briefest moment, my eyes traced every inch of her face, taking in the arch of her brows, the thick, dark lashes that lined her almond-shaped eyes. I warned it not to, but my gaze traveled to her mouth. Her lips were pursed unhappily, but there was still no missing how full and pink they were. I caught my mind wandering to how it would feel if I were to trace that indent on the top lip that made a perfect bow shape with my tongue.

Fucking hell. Get your shit together.

I blinked back the visions of leaning down and kissing this complete stranger as she turned back to me. Christ, my cheeks felt hot. Was I actually blushing? What the hell?

Never. Coming. Into. Town. Again.

“Smoosh is actually a very sweet cat. She just has this weird fear about her carrier. I’m sure if you got to know her, you’d like her.”

“Doubt it,” I returned. I was about as much a fan of cats as I was people, maybe less so. “And you’ll have to excuse me for having no interest whatsoever. Between the two of you, I worry how much money I’ll be flushing down the drain for replacement suits.”

Her entire face crinkled, and damn if I didn’t think she looked adorable as hell, even while trying to look menacing. “You’re just as much to blame as me or Smoosh.”

My chin jerked back at her weak defense. “And how exactly do you figure that, Calamity?”

“I’m not a calamity,” she bit out. “And who the hell even wears a suit on a freaking Sunday, for crying out loud? Haven’t you ever heard of a day of rest?” She threw her hands in the air dramatically. “If you dressed like a normal person, that spilled coffee wouldn’t be such a travesty.”

A bubble of incredulous laughter spilled out of my mouth. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed, incredulous or not. “So it’s my fault for wearing suits? That’s your reasoning?”

“Yes,” she continued snobbishly, even though we both knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on. “That second cup of coffee had to be the universe’s way of telling you to pull that stick out of your ass and lighten the hell up.”

Calamity was a hazard to those around her, and a massive pain in my ass, yet, instead of being annoyed that I was standing in the middle of a crowded restaurant having a grade-school-level fight with this strange woman, I was entertained. I hadn’t stopped once to consider how behind schedule the childish argument we were having was going to make me. Hell, in the past five minutes, I hadn’t thought of work at all.

I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

On that note. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had talked to me the way Calamity just had. It was almost... refreshing. I usually garnered one of two reactions. If people knew who I was they’d fawn over me because of how much money I had or what I could possibly do for them. Or if they didn’t, they found me intimidating because of how I came off and my lack of people skills. This woman didn’t have the first clue who I was, but she sure as hell wasn’t intimidated.

“Um, Jo...” her blonde-haired friend said, her gaze directed over our shoulders at something outside. “We’ve got a bogey incoming, and it seems to have locked on you as its target.”

“What should we do?” the other friend asked. “You want us to block your path so you can sneak out the back?”

Calamity looked in the direction of her friends a second before the color faded from her cheeks. “Ah, shit,” she hissed, all the fire that had been burning hot in her gaze only a second ago going out like a campfire that had been smothered with sand.

Curiosity tugged my attention toward the window her friends were looking through at the same time it pulled my brows into a frown. It took a few seconds for me to recognize the man heading right for the door as Leighton’s fiancé, Bart. Or Barnett. Or Barney, I couldn’t remember.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit. This is the last thing I need right now,” she said in a panic, drawing my gaze back to her as she shuffled from foot to foot like she was seconds away from bolting.

Something uncomfortable and hot churned in my gut, leaving me unsettled. It made my skin itchy and my muscles tight. Jesus, what the hell was going on? “You know that guy?”

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