Page 11 of Shy Girl
“On the h-h-house,” she said.
“Thanks, Dag.”
She headed back to the counter before I could meet her gaze, a rogue wisp of hair floating around her temple. I wanted to tuck it behind her ear and out of the way of her eyes.
Charlotte watched her go, then made a little tutting noise under her breath. “She’s got the hots for you, primo.”
I scoffed. Nah, women were too afraid of me. The whole cop-vibe carried even into life without my uniform. Like we had an aura we couldn’t shed, or something. Charlotte made a face that suggestedyou’re wrongbut said no more. Her gaze followed Dagny behind the counter.
“That’s too bad,” she murmured as she reached for her drink. “A stutter. Must be hard to work at a place like this when you can’t get words out. No wonder she’s so quiet. I would be too.”
Dagny’s shoulders stiffened under my cousins not-so-subtle words. When I glanced over, Dagny’s lips had pinched together, but her face was a glass mask, as serene as any I’d ever seen. A rush of embarrassment, then annoyance, flooded me.
“I never noticed,” I replied coolly.
Charlotte’s eyes widened at my tone, then closed on a grimace. “Oh,” she whispered as heat flooded her cheeks. “I didn’t mean it likethat.”
“And yet,” I muttered with a glare, “you said it,idiota.”
Charlotte cast a concerned glance to Dagny, then mumbled something I couldn’t understand in Spanish. Dagny’s shoulders relaxed a little, then turned to the drive thru window as a car pulled up.
After Charlotte and I swapped family gossip, ate our desserts, and caught up on her love life—which was far more plentiful than mine—she stood up.
“It’s good to see you,” she murmured with a half smile. “Please, come back home? We all want to see you.”
I nodded.
After a quick hug, she marched up to the counter with all the presence of a bull. Dagny eyed her warily.
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said. “I made a comment about your stutter that wasn’t meant to be mean, but probably sounded like it. You present yourself beautifully and I’m sorry if what I said came across as anything else. You’re braver than me.”
Disbelief colored Dagny’s expression. “I-it’s f-f-fine,” she said, then added a heartfelt, “Th-thank you.”
Charlotte smiled, turned with one last nod to me, and disappeared out the door. When I approached the counter with our crumb-littered plates and my empty coffee mug, Dagny glanced at me through her eyelashes. She shoved her phone in her back pocket and straightened up a bittoostraight. Ah, a guilty face. I knew that better than anything. So what, exactly, had she been texting about?
“Five stars, as always.” I pushed the cup back toward her. “Thanks, Dagny.”
A smile tugged at the edges of her lips. “F-five s-s-stars,” she countered with a glance to the door where Charlotte left. “S-s-tutter comment n-notwithstanding.”
I tilted my head in silent question.
“L-l-last week, your date was three s-s-stars. The w-week before that was four, and the w-week before that was two.”
Understanding dawned moments later—Dagny wasratingmy coffee dates. I laughed, taken off guard by the witty amusement in her eyes. Then I laughed harder when I realized she’d been rating my cousins . . . and she didn’t even know it.
“Fair,” I said, thinking back. “Very fair.”
Most of my cousins were female. There was only one other male, Miguel, amidst all twenty-something of us. But Miguel and I met over dirt bikes, not coffee. Most of them lived up the canyon, in the bigger mountain town of Jackson City, so she wouldn’t know them on sight. Because of that, Dagny probably thought these women were love interests. I doubled over now, laughing harder.
Her nose wrinkled. “H-have I m-missed something?”
“My cousins,” I said and wiped the tears out of my eyes. “Those girls are all my cousins, not my dates.”
Dagny blinked in surprise, then giggled. Several moments passed before I’d calmed, then I studied her. “How are you?” I asked. “After the crazy lady, I mean. I heard you’re pressing charges. Good for you.”
“F-fine.” She shrugged. “Y-you saved the day. S-sorry I w-wasn’t very talkative the other day. I ap-p-preciated you coming to check on me. I was just . . . j-just s-surprised, I guess. I don’t always have the words.” A tilted smile came to her lips. “I-in a lot of ways.”
Her easy nonchalance struck something inside me, and I realized then why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
