Page 28 of Mother Parker
“I don’t have a T-shirt your size, but let’s give this a try. It might be a little tight, but it’ll have to do until I can order larger ones.” I handed him the medium-sized T-shirt, and he stared at it.
“You’re kidding, right?” he asked.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re too manly to wear pink?”
His only response was a deep frown. He snatched the T-shirt out of my hands, inspected it closer, rubbed a thumb over the logo—two kawaii bubble tea cups, one pink, one brown, clinking together—and cleared his throat.
“Where can I change?” he said under his breath.
Right here in front of me. No? Not an option?
Dear Lord, I needed a good slap. Yeah. That was what I needed. A good…slap.
“You can change in the back room or the hallway there. No one walks past it. It just leads to my apartment upstairs,” I said and pointed him in the right direction.
He didn’t acknowledge my answer. He gave me a once-over and locked himself in the store room.
I didn’t get the time to fantasize about having superpowers that would allow me to see through doors or anything like that because there was a guy at the counter.
“Hello,” I said. “Welcome to Bubble Bubble. What can I get for you?”
The man, a scraggy blond with a five o’clock shadow and hollow cheeks, looked at me and his lips curved to the side.
I tried not to interpret his facial expression as anything, but it was hard not to think he didn’t like what he saw. That he didn’t like the kind of man I was.
“Is this your first time trying bubble tea? Would you like some suggestions?” I said, determined not to let my own mind get to me.
He met my gaze again and straightened, although he was still shorter than me.
“No. No. I heard you had some trouble,” he said and pointed at the door. “I just came to check on you. I know you’ve only just opened your shop.”
“Ah, yes. I’m fine. It’s all good. I’m sure it was just an accident. Probably someone got too drunk for their own good,” I replied with the widest smile.
My customers, or potential customers, didn’t need to be concerned about a little accident—because I was sure that was what it had been. Wyatt and Ash were just being overprotective. These things happened. Hiccups were part of any new store opening.
“It doesn’t look like an accident,” the man said, eyeing the patched-up door.
Admittedly, having your front door covered in plywood wasn’t ideal when trying to lure people in, but…necessary evils, I guessed.
“It’s fine. I assure you,” I told him.
“Well, if you need protection, just…let me know. We look after a lot of the shops around the neighborhood.”
He offered me a piece of paper with a number written on it, and I reluctantly took it from him.
I didn’t know what kind of protection a guy like that could offer me, but I wasn’t about to insult him to his face. I also couldn’t afford security, so there was that.
“I’m…fine. I don’t need—”
“Keep it. In case there’s trouble again. You never know. We’re only a phone call away.”
Before I could explain, the guy turned on his heels and left the shop. I read the local number on the card and put it in my pocket as Parker came out of the storeroom.
“Oh my—” I started but stopped before I gave myself away.
The T-shirt was super tight on him, giving me a juicy look at his pecs, abs, and biceps while the bright color starkly contrasted his dark features.
But all that did was make him even more…mouthwatering.
