Page 4 of Chasing Danger

“Hold on just a moment, I’m coming,” someone called from the back.

A young man shouldered his way through the swinging door, his hands laden with a large tray of freshly washed mugs and cutlery. His eyes were downcast, focusing on keeping the tray balanced, so I had a moment to observe him unnoticed. Fair, with tousled chestnut hair that hung longer in the front than in the back. Since he was turned to the side, I could only see him in profile, but he had a heart-shaped face with a small straight nose and just enough pronunciation in his cheekbones to give his face some definition without losing its natural softness.

All in all, just my type. Even his height was perfect. He stood on the shorter side of average. If I held him, his head would tuck comfortably under my chin.

From the side, I could just barely read the nametag on his uniform.

Oliver.

It was a fitting name. After such a hectic day, and the loss of my previous lover, it felt like the universe was offering me an olive branch by at least giving me something nice to look at.

“Sorry for the wait,” Oliver said when he finally finished setting the mugs and silverware back in their place and turned toward me. “We’re getting ready to close so I can’t… oh.”

Large hazel eyes stared at me, flickering down for a moment over the rest of my body before he seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly focused back on my face.

“I… sorry, I can’t offer you much.”

I knew I cut a striking figure. It wasn’t a matter of arrogance. A lot of effort was put into my appearance for that very purpose. In my position, making an impact the moment I entered a room was half the battle, and had saved my life on more than one occasion.

Tipping my head in just a little to the side, I let my face settle into a charming smirk that almost always earned me a partner for the night.

“Good thing I’m not picky. What’s the strongest thing you have available?”

“Um… the strongest?” He looked down at the counter, as if searching for something he couldn’t find. A light blush dusted his cheeks.

It was only then that I noticed the man’s most prominent feature that I’d somehow entirely overlooked. A large burn scar covered most of the left side of his face, all the way from hairline to jaw. The only excuse I could give was that his bright eyes wereparticularly distracting. Plus, the way his hair hung longer in the front and was parted more to one side did a spectacularly good job at hiding the scar.

It looked old. More silver than pink, signaling that the skin had healed a long time ago and the scar had settled into place. Still, based on its size, the burn must have been traumatic. It was a wonder that his eye hadn’t been damaged.

He seemed to realize the moment my gaze settled on his scar, for he automatically turned just enough to the side so that I was mostly looking at the right side of his face. It was such an automatic move, like he hadn’t even thought about it. He was obviously used to always presenting his “good” side to people.

“You’ll have to be more specific. I’m not sure what you want.”

My smile almost dropped.

What I wanted should be obvious.

Right, this conversation was aboutcoffee. I’d almost forgotten my initial purpose for stepping into the cafe.

Still, there was no reason for flirting and coffee to be mutually exclusive. I could have both.

I leaned my hip against the counter, purposely angling myself so I could see more of the left side of his face. Scars weren’t a turn off for me, and I wanted him to know it.

“Well, I want a lot of things.” I trailed my gaze down his body, purposely lingering until I was certain he’d noticed. “However, for now, I’m looking for whatever drink you can offer that’ll give me the most caffeine in one cup.”

“Ah.” His eyes lit up, making the hazel color practically sparkle. “The nurse’s special.”

“What?”

The blush returned to his cheeks, though he didn’t look as shy as before. “Oh, there’s a pretty big hospital nearby. A lot of nurses come here on their breaks, and they’re often looking for something to help them get through their long shifts. So, we came up with a recipe just for them. It’s basically, like a maxed-out espresso. Would that work?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great.”

He grabbed one of the neatly stacked to-go cups and turned to the elaborate coffee machine at the far side of the counter.

“You got here just in time. I was about to clean out the machine and shut everything down.”

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