Page 26 of Unhinged Magic
“Yeah.”
She stared at me for a moment, finally smiling, a dimple pressing into her cheek. “Are we talking banana yellow or like a pale lemon?”
I leaned against the counter. “Undecided.”
She shook her head, letting out a laugh. A fucking laugh. My body warmed at the sound.
I watched her deliver orders to the tables before making her way over to give Mr builder/plumber/electrician his americano to go; they all dressed the same, I could never tell the difference.
“It’s all yours,” she said, handing him his coffee.
He smiled that fucking smile again and I struck a hard line through his order on the pad beside me.
He turned his entire body toward her, giving her his full attention. “Thanks, what’s your name?” he asked, and there was no mistaking his intention.
“Latte, one sugar,” she replied, smiling politely and turning back in the direction of the counter.
I laughed then, the kind that rumbled from deep in my stomach.
Tradesman scowled at me before making a hasty exit.
She hadn’t given him her name for a reason. Was that reason me?
“He likes you,” I said, stating the obvious.
Skye placed her tray back on the counter, giving it a wipe with a rag. She shrugged, not fazed by the stranger’s interest. “He was just being friendly.”
I chuckled at how oblivious she was. “Yeah, I bet he orders an extra drink next time he’s in. Latte, one sugar.”
Her order.
She hurled the dish towel draped over her shoulder at my chest, and I caught it against me. Another shake of her head, a wry smile. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied.
I couldn’t help it, I liked this banter. “Wanna put money on it?” I gave her a cheeky look. The kind that got me in trouble more often than not.
She eyed me closely, folding her arms over her chest. “Are you serious?”
I nodded. “Fifty bucks says he’s in tomorrow, adding your order to his,” I countered.
Another laugh and her hand extended between us. “Done.”
I shook her hand, forcing myself not to close my eyes at the contact as a shiver of excitement extended up my arm. Her gaze travelled to where our hands met, still lingering in the presence of the other. Her attention locked on our connection.
We were still touching. I wasn’t ready to let go.
Reluctantly releasing her hand, I reverted to our previous conversation. “How will I know? Can I trust you to tell me if he does?”
She seemed to collect herself, sliding her hands over her thighs as if pressing out wrinkled fabric. Clearing her throat, she directed her pointer finger at me. “That’s easy. Because he won’t.” Her cheeks flushed, a shy smile curving her lips.
I grinned wider, enjoying the moment far too much. “Don’t be so sure of that.”
Without thinking, I flicked the dish towel at her, light enough to be playful but hard enough to make her yelp.
“Hey!” she cried out with a laugh. She tried to grab it off me, but I held it tight in my grasp, pulling us closer.
With the dish towel between us, she stared directly up at me.
My chest froze. My sensorsinhalingher.
