Page 12 of Seeking Two Lovers

His “Sure” rumbled with a low tone, ticking me in all the right places.

“Name?” I asked what I always did to identify a customer’s order.

“Blaine.”

I echoed his reply in my head, imagining whispering it while he sank balls deep into my body.

Wet. Panties.

Shit. I bit my lower lip and handed him his receipt, cursing that I didn’t have time to flirt or jot down my number on the back of it.

He ambled off to the side while I forced myself to give the next customer my attention.

I’d rather have been Cheryl working alongside me who took over his order and got to hand him his coffee and bagged muffin.

I could feel his stare, and goosebumps stayed firmly in place along my arms.

“Blaine?” Cheryl called, and he moved in close.

Our gazes clashed again, his shy smile making me swoon.

Cheryl elbowed me the second he turned away, breaking out into song about the joy of the Lord and earning her an elbow right back.

“No God bullshit, remember?” I whispered harshly. “Unless you want puke all over your shoes.”

She laughed at me, but my gaze followed Blaine out the front door. “Tell me he’s a regular.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Cheryl said, taking the next order from my hand.

“Damn.” I let out a heavy exhale and forced a grin—definitely not from the Holy Spirit—and faced the next customer.

“I’ll take a cinnamon dolce latte with three shots of espresso, one pump of hazelnut, and extra whipped cream.” Her snooty voice had me thinking I wanted to reply that I would rather leave her hanging and go back to bed, but I kept my smile in place.

“And can I interest you in one of our warm-from-the-oven blueberry muffins?”

“Too many calories,” she sniffed.

As if the drink she’d ordered wouldn’t already put her over the daily limit if she truly counted.

The second she stepped off to the side, I glanced out the cafe’s front windows.

Mr. Yummy had disappeared.

My smile dissolved, but I decided all wasn’t lost. I still might be able to snag Scott with the gray sweatpants who had a V and bulge to die for.

5

BLAINE

At the quiet singing of the barista, nausea had set in my stomach. I’d been familiar with that song about the joy of the Lord—too much. The gorgeous girl who had waited on me stated the same way I’d felt at hearing the damn tune.

The mention of God made her want to puke.

I wondered over her story while sipping my coffee and striding back to the jobsite. Studied the image of her I’d taken in my mind while devouring the muffin she’d suggested I buy.

Delicious—and I expected she was too.

Big brown eyes with dark lashes, glossed lips, petite…everything Grey’s and my hookup from the night before hadn’t been.

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