Page 7 of Brew
I smile warmly as he comes into view. “Hello, Haze, how was your weekend?”
“Ugh, you know, one Gilmore Girls re-run after another.”
I laugh. “You do not watch Gilmore Girls.”
“Really? Shows what you don’t know about me.”
“Are you sure you don’t mean Dexter?”
He scratches his chin, looking up to the ceiling in mock deep thought. “You’re absolutely right, it was Dexter, my bad.”
I smell his cologne before I see him.
I shouldn’t know it by heart.
I should have absolutely no clue that the top note smells like cedar and cardamom. Herbal, warm and subtly spicy, topped off with a dark caramel base note that lingers. Just like him.
I clear my throat. “Good morning, Brew.”
I feel his presence behind me, and ripples run up my neck and the back of my arms. How can he evoke such a feeling in me and I haven’t even seen his face yet?
It’s like I can feel my palms starting to sweat. Not good, Erica, not good at all.
Pull yourself together!
“Erica.” Even his voice has the ability to render me senseless. It’s deep, masculine, rich and…I shouldn’t be thinking like this…
I have to do all the talking because he would never ask me about my weekend or what I’d been up to, not like Haze. In fact, Haze often invites a conversation, just to get a rise out of his brother.
He comes around to the front of the counter and our eyes meet.
He’s a monster of a man. Huge. Not as wide-set as his stocky brother next to him, but he’s taller. Leaner. An impressive, thick beard permeates his face, and while he has a steel gaze, he also has pretty eyes. Too pretty for a biker, anyway. His arms and hands are covered in tattoos; even the fingers on his left hand are covered with some kind of ink. Not that I’ve been staring, but it’s not hard to miss.
“And how was your weekend?” I ask casually, knowing I’ll just get a grunt if I’m lucky. “Do anything interesting?”
He’s still staring at me when I look back up from my screen. Yes, I can multi-task. Ta-da.
He doesn’t answer, but his eyes narrow. Is he… Is he assessing my new haircut? I cut it shorter, sue me.
Before I can even process that thought, he says, “You did something to your hair.”
Haze chuckles from over by the water cooler meant for the customers. “Subtlety isn’t his strong suit,” he says to me, patting Brew on the shoulder as he leaves. “Really needs to work on that.”
I smile at Haze, my gaze returning to Brew’s. He’s still waiting for an answer.
“Oh,” I say, my hands flying up to my hair. “Do you like it?”
He frowns a whole lot more. “No.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“I mean… Women are… I like long hair.”
Noted. Bummer to be me then, I guess.
My eyebrows shoot up. “So you don’t like me now because I cut my hair?”
“Didn’t say that. Just said I like long hair.”
