Page 37 of The Harborer
Amy glanced over atShane in the Mountain Coffee apron that was too small for his frame, all ease as he placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of a late-afternoon straggler.
“Sorry about the wait,” he told the guy.
“You’re new here,” the man deadpanned, which was kind of funny, since the guy wasn’t a regular, according to Amy.
“I’m just filling in. Temporary help. Still in training.” Shane bobbed his chin and pivoted away. Amy caught his eye-roll when he thought the customer couldn’t see him, and she nearly burst out with a laugh.
She elbowed him as he joined her behind the counter. “I saw that eye-roll for the grumpy guy.”
His eyes went wide. “That eye-roll was forme, not him. I keep screwing up orders. This is tougher than it looks. You’re probably going to fire me.”
“It’s okay, Deputy. It’s not like I actuallyhiredyou. You’re not on the payroll.”
It had just been the two of them since Amy had returned, and his “on-the-job training” had gotten off to a shaky start. Shane had been all fumble fingers and confusion as she’d tried to get him up to speed on the equipment as a late rush of customers had streamed through the door. It didn’t help that she had been operating with a brain too exhausted to sort things quickly.
But she wasn’t complaining about her “help.” Simply being around Shane had a way of calming her jangled nerves, and it had started as they’d driven away from the house she had shared with Micky—the moment Shane had used the word “we.”“We’ll get it worked out, one problem at a time.”Those two simple letters had warmed and soothed her in ways she didn’t fully comprehend. Maybe because by uttering them, he’d made her feel less alone in this nightmare she now found herself. She had someone in her corner, fighting beside her,forher, even though this was no one’s battle but her own.
Every time Mountain Coffee’s front door opened, she expected Micky to come blazing through. Knowing Shane had her back allowed her to ride the tidal wave of emotions roiling inside her without drowning beneath their weight.
Was it any surprise then, when she caught herself staring at him with star stuff in her eyes? He was unflappable, fearless, with a quiet power simmering just below his surface that she’dnever really appreciated before. She’d always known he was a good guy, but now it was as if blinders had been ripped from her face, and she saw the man standing before her for what he truly was. Heroic. Strong. Solid.
Sexy as sin.
Do not go there.
In her sleep-deprived brain, she pictured him as a knight charging to her rescue, raising his sword to slay a dragon ten times his size. Okay, comparing Micky to an enormous dragon was downright stupid. Too far-fetched even for fantasy. But Shane defending her, hustling her away from potential danger with his take-charge presence,didbelong in some kind of epic rescue romance. Who could blame her for falling half in love with him?
Wait. What?
What was wrong with her? She was hallucinating, that’s what was wrong with her. She shook out her limbs and rolled her neck to get control of herself again.
Reece waltzed through the door, with Charlie on his heels. A handful of customers sat at tables, but otherwise the coffee shop was mostly empty. The brothers stopped and grinned at Shane, who, if one didn’t know better, could have been mistaken for the fourth Hunnicutt brother. Not because of any physical similarities, but in the way they all seemed to communicate through facial expressions and gestures alone.
“You look good in an apron, O’Brien,” Charlie chortled. “It’d be better with some ruffles on it though.”
Without looking up, Shane slid his middle finger alongside his nose, and Charlie hooted a laugh.
Amy couldn’t hold back a grin. “We don’t do ruffles in this establishment, but if we did, you can be sure he’d be ruffled up.”
Easy smiles on their faces, the two men strolled to the counter. Reece tilted his head toward Shane, keeping his eyes fixed to Amy’s. “How many dishes has the new guy broken?”
She leaned her hip against the counter, folded her arms across her chest, and ran her gaze over “the new guy.” “No dishes have been harmed in the training of this barista.”
Shane’s head whipped up, and his tawny eyes met hers. Surprise, mixed with a dash of guilt, danced in them. “What about that mug I chipped?”
“That old thing?” She flapped a hand at him. “It was probably on the verge of chipping anyway. You simply helped it along.”
“He’s slow as molasses in January when it comes to serving coffee,” the grumpy guy chimed in. He was one of the few patrons occupying a table.
“Sorry about that, sir,” she called out. He grunted, and she shrugged, turning slightly to face Reece and Charlie. “What can I get you gentlemen?”
“The usual for me.” Charlie pointed at the display case. “And two chocolate croissants to go. I’m surprised you still have any left.”
They had croissants “left” because, in today’s chaos, Amy had forgotten to unpack one of the pastry deliveries. “Joy must be hungry this afternoon.” She put his order into the system.
“JoyandEstelle.”
Estelle. Amy had forgotten about Joy’s assistant, and she suppressed the surge of … She wasn’t sure how to label the emotion. Dislike? But Amy remembered liking her when they’d first met. At worst, Estelle had impressed Amy in a boringly neutral way. So was it possessiveness? Jealousy? The feelings were foreign, and Amy wrote off her befuddlement to exhaustion. She’d sort through the tangle of emotions later—if they were even worth the effort.
