Page 7 of Waiting for Sunshine

Since we got out and have been back home he’s been working on building his business as an architect. We try to go to the gym or the range together as often as we can and he even pitches in at the bar from time to time when we’re slammed. He’s always there when I need him, and I’m not sure I’d ever be able to repay him for everything he’s done for me.

“Yeah, sorry. I ran into someone on the way over.” I say as I make my way over to the weight bench.

“Oh yeah, anyone I know?” he inquires.

“No idea. I literally ranintoher. Spilled my coffee all over the damn place, her included.” I admit.

“And youdidn’tget her name?” Tucker asks in amusement.

“Nope, but she did tell me I owed her a new sweatshirt. Then told me I should take my head out of my ass and watch where I’m walking.” I laugh and toss my stuff on the ground.

“Damn, I like this girl already.” Tucker teases, swatting at me with his towel.

“We doing this or not?” I swat back at him.

“Ready when you are Prince Charming.” He bows with his arms outstretched.Asshole.

After Tucker and I finished up at the gym, I went home to shower instead of using the showers there. I was picking up Riley before going to the bar anyways, so I figured I would enjoy my own shower today.

When we get to the bar, we walk in the back door. The staff that is already here getting ready to open for lunch, greet Riley and give her all the attention she adores so much. I take the moment to walk back to the office and she follows soon after, laying at my feet as she always does. I’m trying my best to stay focused on my work, but those damn ocean-blue eyes keep invading my thoughts. This shit is going to take longer than I thought.

CHAPTER4

SHANE

I stoppedin front of an empty storefront on my way to get coffee, before running errands and job hunting. I stood there thinking about how it would make such a great art studio. I pictured the wooden chandeliers I would hang above the front windows and how I would display different pieces each week until they sold. I tried getting a better look inside to see what other potential it may have but I couldn’t see much. As I was stepping back and taking one final look at the outside, I was hit byThe Hulk, apparently, and was suddenly covered in coffee.

“Shit!” the deep voice muttered, startling me and drawing my attention to where the hot coffee had landed on his arm and hand.

The man is built like what I imagine a Viking god would be sculpted after. He has dark brown hair that is cut high and tight, but is much longer on the top, and dark brown facial hair that lines his perfectly chiseled jaw. He has a muscular chest, and arms that are covered in tattoos and strained against the sleeves of his NAVY t-shirt. The tattoos on his arms go all the way down his hands and to his knuckles, which I find insanely hot. He stands at least a head taller than me, if not more. I quickly realize the coffee he’s shaking off his arm is on me too. I wipe at my sweatshirt, to no avail, and ask if he is okay. When I look up at him, I get a glimpse of his gorgeous eyes. They are a deep, swimmable blue color with a sort of sadness behind them.

When I jokingly told him he owed me a new sweatshirt he was less than pleasant about it. Telling me I shouldn’t stand in the middle of the sidewalk. Like, who the hell says that to someone they just walked directly into becausetheyweren’t paying attention? Today was not the day,Viking Hulk.

“Maybe you should take your head out of your ass and pay attention to whereyou’regoing,” I announce as I stomp off towards the coffee shop. Before opening the door I glance back at where he stands, and the man freaking winks at me.

The audacity.

Wait, am I blushing?

I walk into the coffee shop and march up to the counter. The barista looks me up and down, smiling. “Can I get you a scone with your coffee?” she laughs in amusement.

“What?” I furrow my brow, having no idea what she is talking about. She points down to my sweatshirt and I realize she’s referring to the big coffee stain on it. This is my favorite white sweatshirt from college, and it is a total goner. I sigh and look back up at her, forcing a smile.

“I’ll take an iced vanilla latte to go. Hold the scone.” I smile, genuinely this time, able now to appreciate her wit from before. I grab some cash from my wallet to pay and drop a little in the tip jar. A few moments later she hands me my latte and I’m on my way.

Despite the run-in with the extremely hot, mildly rude coffee spiller, who ruined my favorite sweatshirt, I am optimistic about my day looking for a job.

With that optimismandthe need for a new top, among some other items, I decide to do a little shopping before I go and put in applications at the places I have written down. I had been in such a hurry to pack and get the hell out of Pete’s apartment that I left most of my skincare and shower items there. Thankfully my makeup bag was in my Jeep that day because I would not want to replace all the contents of that bag. I’m not sure I can even afford that right now.

While driving around town, sipping my iced latte, I run my Jeep through the car wash before heading to the store. Two days on the road doesn’t exactly leave a car looking its best. Now that she’s looking shiny and new, I pull into the store so I can grab all the essentials I am lacking. First thing I looked for is a top to change into, since I didn’t want to be applying for jobs looking like a slob. I change in my car and look down at the time. It’s just now 11 AM, so I figure I will make my way to the places I listed to apply at.

Well… this isn’t going great.

ME

Can we please go out tonight? I need a mental break from applying - and getting turned down for jobs.

TAYLOR

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