Page 5 of Hothead

Wow. The people of Woodvalley sure do like their antique shops.

But it wasn’t the fifth antique shop that she passed that made her look twice this time. It was the diner. Belonging to someone called Molly, if the sign was accurate. There, sat in the window, was a familiar figure. Scruffy brown hair that was well overdue a cut. Black stubble casting a faint shadow on his chin. And a look of doom on his serious face. Luke.

“Gotcha.” She grinned.

Slowing down, she scanned the area for a place to park. Luckily for her, there weren’t too many people in the market for antiques today, so it didn’t take long to find a spot.

Once she was out of the car and marching along the terracotta cobbles, she used the walk to give herself one last talking to. Today, she was not going to get distracted. She was not going to deviate from the plan. And if her stomach started to clench again, she’d order a damn peppermint tea and sort that shit out.

You’ve got this, Bella.

Pushing through the glass door, she didn’t bother surveying the garish bright red room. She knew exactly where Luke was, and that’s where she was heading.

His head was down as she approached, and he was staring into his coffee cup like it had the answers to all of life’s questions. It wasn’t until she slid into the booth seat opposite that he looked up. Well, more like jolted.

“What the—Jesus.”

“Bella,” she corrected, unable to hide her smile. “But I’ll take it.”

His dark eyes narrowed on her again. He liked doing that.Maybe he thinks it’s intimidating?It wasn’t.

“So much for me coming to you, huh?” he groused.

His complaint was met with a shrug. “What can I say, I changed my mind. Besides, it’s not polite to leave a lady waiting, Cappelli.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he took his time considering her. Testing her composure as his eyes dragged over her face, down her neck, across her outfit, and then slowly back up again, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. The way the man looked at her should be illegal. Or at the very least come with a warning sign.

Come on. Think non-sexual thoughts. Sport. Yes, think of a sport. Like, uh, baseball. Um, baseball bats. Baseball jerseys. Huh. What would Luke look like in a baseball jersey? What would Luke look like without a jersey? Goddamnit.

“I’ve been working.” He eventually grunted, oblivious to her internal struggle as her knee began to bounce under the steel countertop. “Night shifts.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, his dark brown stare didn’t waver. It was doing a damn fine job of holding her in place.

Not helping.

Faking nonchalance and doing pretty well pretending his attention wasn’t causing convulsions to near catastrophic levels in her belly, Bella leaned back into the squeaky red cushion.

“So, now that you’re not working, I take it you were just on your way over to see me?”

“No,Bella, I wasn’t.”

Even the way he said her name made her skin all tingly.

Pull. Yourself. Together.

“Then it’s a good job I came toyouthen, isn’t it?” He didn’t answer. Just stared. Holding her eyes hostage and heating her insides.

Stop getting distracted!

Very much needing to put a stop to the air crackling around them, she reached around and pulled Marco’s letter from her back pocket and placed it on the table in front of Luke.

Her plan didn’t work. The intensity between them only kicked up a notch as his gaze remained fixed on her.

She held firm though. Played his game and stared right back into molten chocolate, ensuring he saw nothing but composed detachment.

One minute later, she quietly congratulated herself as he finally broke the silence.

“What happened to him?” Luke asked, his voice cracking.

---