Page 15 of Lust

“I’ll wait at the entrance,” I call as she heads off to the staff room. I look back atEwan, and I want to laugh at the look on his face, but instead, for once, I take the high ground and walk away.

“Prick,” Ewan mutters.

I can’t help myself this time and spin around, making sure he’s watching, I give him the finger as I continue to walk backwards. “Have a good day, Ewan,” I call, snatching the attention of several people nearby, who all turn to look at him. His face reddens. Mission accomplished.

I wait by the entrance for five minutes with no sign of Syd. Determined to not let her duck out on me, I go in search of her or someone that knows where she is.

There’s no sign of Ewan, but I do find Sheila.

“Excuse me,” I say, interrupting her counting. I don’t like the woman. She turns, and I continue, “I’m looking for Sydney.”

Her eyes narrow momentarily, then realisation hits. “You were here the other day. Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem. I’m meeting Syd for coffee and can’t seem to find her.” Her eyes trail my body, scrutinising my face.

She harrumphs. “Just a moment. I’ll fetch her for you.” She marches away to a door with a sign saying PRIVATE on it and disappears inside.

I bet she has a direct line to Amos and is filling him in on the inappropriate man asking for his daughter right now.

Several more minutes pass before the door opens and out steps Syd with Sheila following behind. Sydney’s posture has taken on a straightness and a deep frown is creasing her brow. As she reaches me, she glances quickly over her shoulder to where Sheila now stands a couple of feet away.

“Look, I don’t know what your game is, but you can’t just show up at my work and demand I go to coffee with you. Not that I’m not grateful for getting me away from Ewan, but I didn’t think you were serious,” she whispers, eyes darting around the shop as though everyone is watching her.

I take note of the bag slung over her shoulder and the coat she’s wearing. “Don’t you have lunch now?”

Looking down at herself, she says, “I do. But…”

“So let’s go.” I gesture for her to go ahead before she can respond, placing my hand on the small of her back and guiding her toward the exit. “If you really don’t want to have lunch with me, once we get outside, we can go our separate ways, although I don’t think you will.”

Her head spins and she glares at me. “Seems Ewan isn’t the only one who can’t take no for answer.”

Outside, we walk until we are out of sight of the shop and its occupants, particularly Sheila, who I know watched us all the way, then Syd rounds on me.

“What are you doing here, Blake?”

I roll my eyes. “Like I said, taking you to lunch, coffee, something else, if you fancy,” I say with a laugh and a wink.

She sighs and throws her hands up in the air. “I don’t know you. Did I agree to coffee with you? Yes, I did. Did we agree a time or place? No, we did not. Do I want to go to lunch with you? N?—”

“Sure you do,” I say, interrupting her and cutting off the ‘no’ I know is coming. “It’s just lunch or coffee, whatever you want. And, in case you didn’t know, every relationship starts with two people who don’t know each other.”

She shakes her head. “This is…not that. And does taking the mick usually work for you as a chat up line?”

“It’s called a sense of humour, Syd,” I reply dryly, losing patience with this charade and contemplating throwing her over my shoulder.

She baulks at my words. “I have a sense of humour, I’ll have you know.” She pouts like a petulant child, crossing her arms.

I laugh. It’s impossible not to when she’s looking at me like that. Not impressed, she stomps past me, nudging my shoulder as she goes.

“And stop calling me Syd. I sound like a little old man,” she calls back, making me laugh harder.

I jog after her. “Okay, I’m sorry. Come to lunch with me? We can talk about that stick Sheila has up her ar?—”

She twirls around and slams a hand over my mouth, unaware of how close I was. Her hand smells of soap and vanilla, and I hold back the desire to swipe my tongue out and lick her palm orkiss it. Time stops for a second as she looks at me. I can see the war waging inside her. A clean split down the middle between giving in or to keep walking.

She yanks her hand away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She takes a step back, and I think she’s going to run. “Okay, let’s go to lunch. But it’s just lunch, Blake. It’s not the start of anything and doesn’t mean anything either. And no more turning up at my work.”

Fuck me if my dick isn’t hard listening to her laying out her terms. I’m so lost to it that I miss the part where I’m supposed to answer her.

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