Page 3 of Leo
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Leo
I’mbusy serving coffee when I see the beautiful curvy brunette and her friend leave my coffee shop.
She’s come in here a lot, and I’m always blown away by how beautiful she is. But, somehow I’ve never had a chance to actually speak to her.
Today, I could tell something was wrong.
She’s usually so happy. A huge smile on her face. Laughing and talking with her friends like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
But today, her shoulders were slumped and she looked on the brink of tears. It physically hurt me to see her so upset. I had to clench my fists at my side. Fury building up inside me. A primordial need to punish whoever hurt her.
But then, I heard the name of her tormentor…. Hawthorne.
As in Rupert Ulleses Hawthorne III. My pretentious, douchebag of an older brother.
Shame washes over me like a bucket of cold water. My blood turns to ice.
And now, as I watch her shapely ass leave the building, I decide to do something about it.
Waving at one of the baristas to finish the order I’m making, I literally jump across the counter and run after her.
“Wait up!” I yell, pushing through the door, and elbowing a man out of the way.
She turns to me and I freeze.
The sun is directly behind her, lighting up her hair like a halo. I walk towards her in a trance. My mouth is bone dry. My palms are sweaty. A hardness in my pants threatens to burst out from its prison.
“Is something wrong?” she asks, her hand on her hip.
There’s an air of impatience about her. But, at the same time, I can’t help but notice her checking me out. It makes my body tingle, having her look at me like this. I want to wrap her up in my arms and slay her body with my rock-hard length.
“I'm Leo," I say. "I own Beans 'n' Cream. I couldn’t help but overhear what you were saying in there.” I step closer until we’re only a few inches apart. “About the Hawthorne Group not paying their bill.”
“Yeah, well, what do expect. These rich assholes, they do whatever they want whenever they want. I was stupid to ever get involved with them.”
“It’s not your fault,” I growl. My teeth are clenched and it’s hard for me to control the anger boiling up inside me.
She takes a step back. Her friend stands next to her with her hand buried in her purse. Probably with her fingers wrapped tightly around a can of mace. Thinking I’m some psycho accosting her on the street like this.
I take a couple of deep breasts and close my eyes. Calming myself. Following through with the instructions I’ve learned from studying yoga and meditation the last few years.
“I want to help,” I say, the tension in my shoulders disappearing as I look into her aqua blue eyes.
“Great,” she says, “just what I need. A guy with a hero complex coming to my rescue.” She puts her hand on her hip and scrunches up her face. I’m sure she’s trying to look badass, but it only makes her look even cuter than she already did. “I don’t know who you think you are. But I got myself into this mess. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself out of it. And… if I can’t, well… that’s no business of yours. I really like your coffee shop. The cakes you sell… they’re delicious. So, let’s not let this conversation go any further. I really don’t want to have to find somewhere else to go for my morning cappuccino.”
She turns to leave, and I reach forward and grab her elbow. She jumps back as if I’ve just punched her in the gut.
“I’m sorry,” I put my hands in my pockets and shake my head. I don’t know what I was thinking. Grabbing her like that. We don’t even know each other. It was a major step over the line. But right now I’m desperate. Desperate to help this beautiful woman. Desperate for her not to turn away and leave. “Just hear me out, okay? Five minutes of your time. I don’t have a hero complex. And I respect you wanting to go it alone. But… it’s hard to explain. I know this Hawthorne Group. You’re right, you never should have got involved with them. They don’t care about anything other than their bottom line. Squeezing out a profit at the expense of anyone that gets in their way. But I think I can help. There’s no reason that one little mistake like this should put you out of business. And yeah, I’m sorry I was eavesdropping. It’s totally not cool. But I heard you in there. I heard you say that you only have a week until the bank forecloses on its loans. Don’t you think you should at least hear me out? If you don’t like what I have to say, then you can tell me to go screw myself, and I’ll give you free coffee for a month, just for wasting your time.”
“Free coffee for a month?” She looks at her friend, who nudges her with her elbow and smiles. “I guess five minutes can’t do any harm. But keep your hands to yourself, okay?”
I lift my hands in the air and pull a dorky I’m-sorry face. Mr. Non-threatening-coffee-shop-owner at your service.
Although, keeping my hands off this woman is going to be easier said than done. She’s absolutely perfect. And her tight black tee with the v-neck is really showing off her cleavage.
The temptation to bury my face between those large, round breasts is almost overwhelming. “Hands to myself,” I say, my eyes hovering on her lips as I imagine what it would be like to take this woman home and rip off all her clothes. “Got it.”
