Page 30 of Average Joe

“Oh, yes.” I mentally high-fived myself for not jumping Joe’s half-naked body during our earlier tiff. “Thanks for trading shifts.”

“Anytime.” She filled a plastic venti cup while I readied two shots of espresso. “Oh, hey. Prius Guy asked for you.”

“What? He speaks?” Prius Guy never struck up a conversation, let alone asked questions. “What did he want?”

“He just asked, ‘Where’s the other one?’ I told him you’d be in later today.” Lilly finished with her customer and closed the window, turning to face me. “He took his coffee, gave me a weird look, and drove off.”

“Hmm.” I’d never given the man much thought. He was handsome in an understated way. Pale, clear skin always shaved baby-butt smooth. He wore his dark hair combed back. Strong jawline. White teeth. Dark brown eyes. Always wore a dress shirt and tie. No wedding ring.

“Anyway.” She emptied the tip jar and started to sort the bills from the change. “You ready for the party next week?”

“Party?” I reached above the storage cupboard to adjust the air conditioner. Best to keep the small sweatbox cool. Nips equaled tips.

“Marco’s birthday,” Lilly scolded, dropping the change into our charity collection pouch and tucking the bills into her handbag. “Please tell me you didn’t forget.”

I forgot.

“No. no. I didn’t forget. That new club in Belltown, right?”

“VIP section, baby,” she hollered, dancing where she stood. “Heard it’s amazing.”

Cue the long-winded internal groan. “Can’t wait.”

“Good.” She stepped behind the closet door and shimmied out of her costume. “We’ll pick you up. Hired a driver so we can party like rock stars and not have to worry about getting home in one piece.”

“You spoil him. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, but that beautiful man spoils me right back,” she said, shoving her arms into the sleeves of her Henley. “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet your Marco.”

"No." I shook my head. "I'm an independent lady. Got my house. Car. Run a successful business. Own a top-of-the-line vibrator. Marley needs no man," I lied. I longed to experience an unconditional, unwavering, 'til death do us part kind of love.

“Everybody needs somebody.”

“I have you. I have my Pink Sweets girls. I have Prius Guy.”

“Not every man is gonna hurt you like Warren did.”

Every important man in my life had hurt me. Warren had only been the first. Followed by Dylan Senior, Dylan Junior, and many others not important enough to mention. “Not gonna have this conversation.”

“Fine. I’m running to the post office. Need anything?”

“No, but thanks.”

“Be back in thirty.” A quick hair fluff, and she snagged her keys and handbag, leaving me to my thoughts and an inventory check.

Three iced drinks, four hot black coffees, and two offers of kink into my shift, a familiar rumble caught my attention, making my skin tingle. The roar of engines was nothing new. One block north, a motorcycle repair shop thrived. Choppers of all shapes and sizes passed by during the spring and summer months. However, one machine roared louder, grumbled meaner than most—the bike belonging to my neighbor.

I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered, “Please keep driving, please keep driving,” repeating my mantra until the rumble vibrated my window and I could no longer avoid my shit luck.

Sucking in a courageous breath, I forced my friendliest grin and offered a sticky-sweet greeting. “Hey, handsome. What can I get for you?”

Joe wore an open-face helmet and dark glasses. He hadn’t looked my way, allowing me a long gander at his strong jaw and that talented mouth.

“Yeah, I’ll have…” When he turned his head my way, he went silent for a long, irritating spell. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark frames, but their heat scorched me nonetheless. “Marley. Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

I cleared the nerves from my throat.

Joe’s head turned left, then right, like he was checking the perimeter for perps. “This is your place?”

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