I held up my hand to stop her.
“What?” she said, confused.
“You win,” I blurted.
“Excuse me?” Amber’s mouth hung open. “What did you say?”
I shrugged. “I said you win.Supermanis a romance. Period. Congratulations.”
A smile grew on her face as she pumped her fist in the air. “Yes! I knew you’d come around! You do have a heart, after all.”
I blinked in surprise. “Thank you for noticing.” I glanced over at the door after two people walked in. “That’s my cue. I should get back to work.” I stood and pushed the chair closer to the table. “It was a pleasure chatting with you, Lois.” I wondered how she would respond to that or if she would think I admitted that I had a crush on her.
“You, too, Clark.”
Her smile had taken my heart hostage, along with her words.
Was she admitting she was attracted to me?
Was I a fool for hoping so?
I turned to walk away and—
“Thank you,” she added.
I stopped and spun back around. “For what?”
Amber shrugged. “For changing my mood. For being . . . nice.”
“Ouch.” I winced. “The wordniceis the kiss of death for men. Take it back.”
She giggled. “Too late. Deal with it.”
I chuckled and turned to get back to work.
“Look at you, Mr. Smooth Operator,” Dean said in a low voice as I made my way around the counter toward the espresso machine. “You two were really hitting it off over there.”
“We were chatting,” I said. “It was completely innocent.”
“Says the man with a smitten look on his face,” Dean said, not looking the least bit convinced.
I glanced at the order screen. “Okay, what do we have here?”
“Two drips,” he said. “And I’m not talking about you and me! Ba-dum-bump!” He mimed a rimshot.
I shook my head at his silliness, then filled two cups with coffee from the drip brewer. I placed tops on them and set them on the counter.
“Two Doomsday Drips for Kennedy,” I called out.
“Thanks, Scotty,” she said.
“My pleasure. Thanks for stopping by.” I watched another customer take a selfie with a poster of Keanu Reeves in theMatrix, then I turned to Dean. “I’ve got the weirdest sensation in my body right now, like maybe I have butterflies.”
“A squirmy, ticklish, nervous feeling in your gut?” Dean asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Exactly.”
He grimaced. “That’s gas. Can you move away from me?”