Page 2 of Scrape the Barrel
“Should I add anything else, do you think?”
“Needs more flowers. I’ll check on you in a little, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled through a mouthful of food.
I pushed through the swinging door with my shoulder, grabbing the decanter of coffee off the machine before turning. Right as I pivoted, my arm smacked right into a hard chest, causing the handle to slip out of my hand. It fell to the floor with a crash, shards of glass and drops of coffee spraying everywhere.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” I said to whoever I’d run into.
I didn’t bother to look at who it was before grabbing a towel off the counter and bending to mop up the coffee.
“Be careful of the glass,” the man warned as he crouched beside me, another rag in his calloused hand.
“I know how to—” I cursed as one of the shards of glass sliced my finger.
He grabbed my hand, pulling it closer to him to look at the cut.
“You should clean this up so it doesn’t get infected. I’ll take care of the mess.”
I finally looked up into hazel eyes rimmed by dark lashes. I’d never seen the guy in my life. He was all man, his dirty blonde hair curling at the nape of his neck under his tan cowboy hat. He had to be new in town or just passing through. In a town so small, everyone knew everyone, and I’d know if I’d seen this man before.
“Ma’am?”
Blinking, I looked down at my finger. “It’s not that bad.”
“Even the tiniest cuts can get infected,” he stated with my hand still gently gripped in his.
I pulled my hand away, brushing my finger on my apron. I internally cursed at the blood that smeared the fabric. That’d be a pain to get out.
“I can’t have a customer clean this,” I said, grabbing the towel again. If he cut himself, it’d be on me. Though, with hands as thick-skinned as his, I doubted anything could pierce the flesh.
“It’s not a problem.”
I focused on soaking up the coffee with the rag. “It’s a liability thing.”
I needed something to put the glass in so I could clean the rest of the mess. I stood at the same time he did, our foreheads banging into one another. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second as he steadied me with rough hands on my shoulders.
“Should someone this clumsy really be working in a coffee shop?” he asked, his voice sounding accusatory. As if I was the problem here.
I straightened, narrowing my eyes at him. “I amnotclumsy.”
He pursed his lips, his eyes shooting to the mess on the floor and then back to me. “You’ve hit me twice in the last two minutes.”
“Hityou?” Was heserious?
“What else would you call it?”
I grabbed an empty coffee cup off the counter, bending back down to gently pick up the glass on the ground. My head pulsed where we’d bumped into each other, and my finger was stillbleeding, which had to be a sanitary issue, but I couldn’t care less right now.
The man’s boots shifted in my peripheral as I plucked the shards, then disappeared for a second until they came back into view.
“If you won’t take care of it, then at least let me,” he started.
I looked up at him from where I was still crouched. “I’m fine.”
He took a step back, holding his hands up, one of them gripping a wad of paper towels. “Alright.”
I was so over today.
