Page 4 of Loyally, Luke
“And not only have you doused me in your vile liquid, but you’ve confiscatedmycoffee.” One golden brow rose in challenge before she pushed the sunglasses back to cover those eyes, which seemed to help him find his thoughts more quickly. “Another one of your tricks to ‘accidentally’”—she made air quotes—“meet me?”
He hated air quotes. It was sarcasm without the benefit of words.
“Wasn’tmyfault.” He turned his cup toward her so that the name scrawled across the outside pointed in her direction.Luke. Crystal clear. “I don’t have to resort to accidental meetings, thank you. In fact, I’m not a fan of meetings at all.” He gestured toward her cup with his chin. “Besides, this ain’t coffee.” He swallowed to clear the taste from his tongue, pushing the cup toward her. “It’s perfume in a cup.”
She took the perfume from him as if touching a contaminant and shovedhiscoffee back at him. “Well, yours is petrol.”
Luke frowned.
Nobody ought to talk about coffee that way, no matter what sort of pretty voice she used.
He plucked the lid off his cup and raised the coffee to his lips, all the while staring into those shaded eyes without flinching. Theundiluted and, thankfully, unflavored liquid met his tainted tongue with glorious rightness. Even his head started feeling clearer.
Oh, his brain was clearing up just fine.
“Bitter, strong, and without a lot of fluff.” He hummed his appreciation. “Just the way I like my petrol.”
Her pink lips pressed as tight as her skirt and, with a glare he felt through those glasses, she raised her chin. “Of course—a drink to match your personality, I suppose?”
“Exactly.” He’d play along. “Yours too, I’d guess?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Her lips tipped in a not-so-friendly smile. “Sweet, elegant, and refined.”
“That what you call it?” He nodded, giving her back the same kind of smile. “Well, must be the language barrier for sure, ’cause those aren’t the words I’d use to describe your coffee.”
“There’s no knowing what vocabulary you might use.” He felt her gaze travel down him more than saw it. “And I wouldn’t want to tax your faculties, so I bid you good day.”
She swept past him and right out the door, taking her sickeningly sweet perfume coffee and tense personality with her.
And she’d just called him stupid.
He was a lot of things, all of which his vocabulary could identify, but stupid wasn’t one of them.
Well, except when it came to women. And in that case, he didn’t need a headache to reach the depths of his idiocy.
No wonder he’d called off dating.
He stared at her retreating form and took a long sip of his coffee just to spite her.
It was a good thing he’d met nicer Skymarians on his first visit to the islands, because if she’d been the personality of the general population, he wouldn’t have come back. No matter how amazing the opportunity for a craftsman.
Life was too short to voluntarily spend time with rude people.
Then the strange sense of someone staring drew his attention back to the counter.
Every one of the servers and two of the three people in line stared at him wide-eyed. One even stood slack-jawed.
Maybe they hadn’t seen many Americans? He looked down over his body. Flannel shirt over a T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
He looked back at them, smiled, and raised his cup in salute. “Good coffee.”
And with that, he left the shop.
Text from Izzy to Penelope:I got him. But he has a headache, and it really must hurt because he kept asking me if people from Skymar drink black coffee. When I asked why, he said the folks in the shop seemed to have a strange response to his coffee. Or the fact he was an American. OR his argument with a Skymarian lady in the coffee shop.
Penelope:He had an argument with someone before he even left the airport?
