Page 17 of Once You're Mine

Harper plants a hand on her hip. “You don’t have to like him. You just have to fuck him.” She moans, closing her eyes and licking her lips. “I bet you’d need both hands to fist him and that he fucks like an MMA fighter on crack: hard, fast, and so, so good.”

“I’m not interested in getting my ass whipped.”

She bursts out laughing. “You actually cursed. Nice. But seriously, I’d be all over him if he weren’t yours.”

My gasp is loud in the coffee shop. I drop my gaze to the register and rearrange the bills inside. Alex never has them facing the same way like they should. “Mr. Bennett isn’t mine. Honestly, what happened yesterday was a coincidence. I doubt we’ll ever see him again.”

“Maybe.” Harper huffs. “If I’m right and he shows up here, then you have to flirt with Mr. Be-my-lawyer-daddy Bennett. If you’re right, then you have to promise to go out with me sometime so I can find you a man.”

I chew my lip in thought. I’m supposed to start my job at T&A tonight, and I have no idea what my schedule is going to look like going forward. The last thing I want to do is plan something with Harper and then bail. Or for her to find out why I can’t go in the first place.

“I’m not in love with either of those options.”

She glances at the clock. “It’s almost 6 a.m. Bleh. To be continued.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Harper dashes to the door and unlocks it to let the early birds in. She returns to stand behind the counter and winks at me.

“Good morning, Mr. Bailey.”

The shift begins like it always does, and I settle into the workday by assisting the regular customers. Some people hate routine, but I find it soothing. Knowing what to expect removes the anxiety of the unknown.

“Phew,” Harper says, wiping her forehead several hours later. “The brunch rush was worse than yesterday. We’ll have to get Alex to hire someone else to help us. I’m not trying to get yelled at everyday just because the line is long.”

“I know.” I snatch up the dish rag and wipe the counter to remove a pile of crumbs. “At least we didn’t have any issues like yesterday.”

“True. Do you want to take your break now?”

I frown and look at her over my shoulder. “Why would I? It’s not time yet.”

“Oh, yes it is,” she says in a sing-song voice. “Good afternoon, Mr. Bennett! It’s great to see you again.”

My entire body goes statue-still, shock paralyzing me. I didn’t expect him to come back, but now that he has, I need to gather my composure. At least enough of it to avoid acting like an idiot.

“Welcome to the Sugar Cube,” Harper says, her voice carrying threads of impishness that makes me want to smack her. “What can I get you?”

After taking a fortifying breath, I slowly lift my head, refusing to cower before him—only to find his gaze is already on me. Whatever air I pulled into my lungs leaves me in a rush.

“Nothing,” he says. “I’m not here for sustenance.” The man tilts his head, his gaze boring into me. “I need to speak with Miss Green.”

“Okay.”

“No way.”

With both of us answering him at the same time, the responses are a jumbled noise. I clear my throat and square my shoulders. “There’s nothing for us to talk about.”

Harper swings her gaze to me, her lips parted in surprise. But I ignore her. Bennett has my undivided attention. I’m not sure I could look away even if I tried.

He tilts his head. “Are you telling me that you don’t want to find your father’s killer?”

I can feel all of the blood rushing from my face, bringing stars to my vision. When I sway on my feet, Harper throws her arms around my shoulders. Right as Bennett reaches across the counter for me.

My friend shoots him a dirty look, and he retracts his hand. Then she pats my cheek, her gaze clouded with worry. “Are you all right, honey?”

“I’m fine.” After taking a deep breath, I give her a wobbly smile and step away from her supportive embrace to prove it. “Give me a moment to sort this out, okay?”

She nods. “Take all the time you need. And here…” Harper rushes to the display case and slides the glass door open before returning to my side. “Take this cake pop and eat it, before your blood sugar drops again.”

I’d love to blame my response on something medical, but that’s far from the truth. The real reason for my uncharacteristic display of weakness is due to the man staring at me from across the counter. The one who I’d hoped to never see again.

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