Page 20 of I've Got You

“Sure thing.”

With a knock on the countertop, I retreated to the kitchen. Before I could start on the few items I wanted to work on, I had to step into my small office out back. It didn’t take long to fire up my PC. Once online, I headed to my account on the job site where I’d advertised the position I was hoping to fill. While I had access on my smartphone, I’d made a deliberate decision not to check work when at home with Libby. It was a slippery slope to mix work with family time or my rare downtime. Hell, I even paid Katie to manage the social media pages we had.

There were seven applications. Surprise flittered through me. Town was relatively small, with just a few thousand residents, so there wasn’t exactly a huge pool looking for a job in a coffee shop. I wanted someone with some experience. While I’d trained up Phil and Craig myself, I didn’t want to start from scratch again. Not if I could help it.

I skimmed over all of the applications and scrunched my nose. I thought I knew three of the applicants, possibly. I rarely knew last names, but knew enough of the first names of our regulars—as well as gossip—to work out who three of them might be. None of them would work out. Heck, Harry dropped at least one cup of coffee a week—we now only served him in takeout cups—Joanie had that god-awful spit thing going on around her mouth that would cause us to lose customers so damn fast we’d probably get whiplash seeing them charge out the door, and Calvin swore like a sailor, regardless of where he was.

The other four didn’t exactly fill me with hope either. One could possibly result in an interview, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.

Frustrated, I pushed out of my seat and headed to the kitchen. There was nothing I could do about the position at the moment, so it made more sense for me to focus on something I had control over. Chocolate eclairs. Perfect for the afternoon rush.

It was midmorning when Katie called out, “Hey, there’s someone out front asking for you.” I nodded and quickly glanced around the kitchen to make sure the stove was off before I stepped to the front. Lightness filled my chest when my gaze landed on Scott. He stood near the counter, his side to me, his hands deep in his jeans pockets. I hadn’t had time to study or enjoy the angles of his face before, too involved with conversation or that one hot time we made out. I swallowed hard at the thought. With his high cheekbones and perfectly cut jaw, he was handsome, but not to the point where he looked airbrushed or unattainable. Instead, despite his prominent features, there was a softness that drew me to him.

He did admittedly look well-bred. I would have smacked myself around the head if I didn’t care about causing a scene.Well-bred?But it was sort of true. While not preppy, the way he carried himself, the straightness of his back, his trim body that he clearly took care of, it screamed of a high-class upbringing. I imagined he was usually clean-cut, perhaps prior to his coming out and figuring out who he wanted to be, but his beard growth was definitely more pronounced than a simple shadow. The bristles were evident with the sun as his backlight, a slight blond in his otherwise dark hair. It looked soft, and I spared just a moment wondering how good it would feel under my fingers.

Caught up in ogling Scott from the open doorway, I hadn’t realized I’d stopped short to get my fill. Phil’s “Holy crap!” dragged me out of my daze as he managed to prevent himself from plowing into me. “Geez, I didn’t see you there. You okay?”

Scott’s gaze snapped to mine in that instant. Sure I was wide-eyed, I whipped my head to look at Phil. “Shit. Sorry. Yes, I’ll get out of your way.”

Phil’s brows dipped low as he took a moment to consider me, but he stepped around me. Pulling myself together, I flicked my eyes back to Scott. This time my smile was instant, as was his.

“Hey,” I greeted as I stepped around the counter and made my way over to him. I reached out for his hand. Warmth met mine as he clasped it, and we shook while I forced myself to not think about his firm grip, the strength evident in his long fingers, or the sensation creeping up my arm from the contact. His nearness bled into me, affected me, and I wasn’t quite sure the best way to handle that.

“Hey,” Scott finally said a moment before he released my hand. I wondered if he was as reluctant as I was to sever the contact.

“Good to see you. Have you ordered a drink?”

Scott bobbed his head. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. It was quiet but noticeable since I was all too aware of how close we stood. “Is it okay that I’m here?” His eyes searched mine, hesitancy apparent.

The look, his uncertainty, sat heavily on my chest. “Of course it is, man. It’s good to see you. Let me fast-track your order, and I’ll take thirty.”

His eyes brightened while his shoulders lost some of their tension. “Sounds good.”

“Perfect. Just grab a seat.” I jerked my chin at the empty table in the corner of the room. With a smile, he turned and headed in that direction. And when I dragged my wandering eyes from his ass, I sighed and went to make our orders.

At the machine, I told Katie I was taking a break and that the eclairs were ready to be brought out the front. With a nod, she told me she’d collect them while not so subtly casting curious glances in Scott’s direction.

“Isn’t that the vet?”

I didn’t lift my gaze as I heated the milk. “It is.”

“He’s kinda hot.”

“Kinda?”

She snorted. “Well, you know, for an old dude.”

“Hey.” I angled toward Katie and raised my brows incredulously. “He’s younger than me.”

Her grin was wide. “Seems perfect for you then. Young and hot, but not so young you’d be a cougar.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think men can be called cougars, even gay or bi men.”

Katie shrugged and released a snorting laugh. “Whatever. You know what I mean. But still, nice work.”

With a shake of my head, I didn’t bother setting her straight. She was nineteen, and I swore to God nineteen-year-olds were getting younger every year. Had I ever been that young? I sighed and finished the drink. After giving Katie a friendly wink, I took our drinks over to Scott, who surprisingly sat looking around, possibly people watching rather than having his nose stuck in a phone. It was strangely appealing.

“Thanks,” he said when I placed his coffee before him.

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