Page 2 of Bride By Coronation

"Next," a whiny barista calls out.

He turns, steps in front of the counter but off to the side, then pins his heated stare on me. "What do you want, Fiona?"

"You know my name?" I blurt out, my pulse skyrocketing so fast I get dizzy.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it.

I bite on my lip.

"Can I help you?" the barista interjects in an annoyed tone.

The man claims, "Your friend said your name outside the bathroom."

"Oh, I forgot," I admit, recalling Zara interrupting my hot moment with Mr. Bad Boy.

"Sorry, but there's a line forming," the barista snaps.

The man narrows his gaze, scolding, "You're being rude."

The probably high-school-aged boy, wearing a name tag that says Theo, shrinks and cringes. In a nicer manner, he offers, "Sorry. How can I assist you?"

"Fiona?" the man asks, motioning for me to step next to him.

I obey and give my order. "Long macchiato, one pump caramel, one pump mocha, add whip." I turn to the man. "What's your name?"

Amusement flares in his eyes. He states, "Kirill."

"And what would you like, sir?" Theo pushes.

Kirill doesn't take his stare off me. He answers, "Large coffee. Fiona, have you tried the oatmeal raisin cookies here?"

I shake my head. "No."

He turns toward Theo. "Add on two cookies."

"Name?"

"Bob."

I stifle a laugh. "Bob?"

"No one can spell or pronounce my name."

I add, "You definitely don't look like a Bob."

"That'll be eighteen forty-five," Theo announces.

Kirill taps his card, displaying a tattoo of a hand necklace. Tiny pink hearts on top of crossed bones hang off a black chain. It runs over the sides of his thumb and pointer finger.

My knees weaken, and I grab the counter to steady myself. I had a guy hold my neck once and apply a tiny bit of pressure, but that relationship didn't last long because other than that, he bored me to death. I've craved for another guy to hold me like that, but I haven't had much luck. Everyone I date seems to be duller in bed than the previous one. So I blurt out, "You have a hand necklace?"

He freezes, then studies me, and the ache in my core turns into an inferno.

"Sorry. I'll agree your tattoo is rather fascinating, and I don't mean to be rude, but would you please step down to the end so other customers can order?" Theo interrupts.

Kirill shoots him more lethal daggers with his glare, then steps back. He motions toward the pick-up counter, his hand necklace on full display. "After you."

With wobbly legs, a racing heart, and zings flying through me, I force myself to move to the end of the counter.

---