Page 3 of One Bossy Date

Easily one of my top-ten awkward moments.

I could have lived with that.

What I couldn’t live with, at least not at that moment, was his gaze. The golden caramel swirl in his chocolate-brown eyes intensified as he raised his eyebrows and aimed his gaze at me.

“It’s not mine,” I said without thinking, even before he had time to react. I grabbed the book and flipped it around, back-side up. He just looked at me. So, I continued, “Somebody left it here. Somebody I’m going to kill later. And you know what?” I smacked my hands together enthusiastically. “I’ll get you a coffee. I just made some for myself, anyway.”

He’d come into my shop looking for coffee, and if that’s what it took to market my services (and make him forget about the book), that’s what I’d do. Okay, mostly, because I needed new clients. Who was I to say that this man didn’t have a dozen cats back home?You never know!

He shifted to face me, and a small crease appeared between his dazzling eyes. “Ah, sure. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Black,” he repeated.

I tried not to dwell on the curtness of his tone as I quickly poured him a cup of my favorite coffee that was brewing in the back. When I reappeared, he was staring down at his cell phone. He slipped it back into his pocket when I handed him the steaming cup.

“So, what kind of place is this, anyway?” he asked, nodding his thanks for the coffee as he surveyed the room.

“Can’t you tell?” I let my gaze roam the place as if to confirm for myself.

“Uh.” His eyes followed mine, but I didn’t notice so much as a spark of realization. Before I could answer, he lifted a hand and scrunched up his face. With a deep breath, he let out another loud sneeze, covering it with the crook of his arm.

“It’s a cat grooming boutique,” I told him, watching as he recovered. “Bless you.”Should I offer him a tissue?

With an almost imperceptible nod, he said, “I see.”

I wondered if he reallydidsee it though, or if he was just saying so to end the conversation. Not really caring one way or the other, I added, “Yeah…it’s actually changed quite a bit. I replaced almost everything in here.” I gestured casually around the room. “And back there. And out there.” I was about to get into detail when his low, rumbly voice interrupted my train of thought.

“The coffee isn’t what it used to be, either.” He raised a brow, stared into the cup, and longingly back out at the rain.

Shocked, I stood as still as a pillar for a moment, my eyes glued to his face.Mr. Grumpy-as-hell is in the house.I couldn’t believe theaudacityof this man—over afreeandfriendlycup of my favorite organic coffee.

Yeah, forget the tissue. I’m sure he can get his own.

Slowly, I sucked in a shuddering breath (for stability in this now-moment) and let it back out. “Well, neither are the customers, apparently,” I returned.

My smile was tight.

His was nonexistent.Geez, cheer up.

His eyes instantly darted back to mine, but I wasn’t about to let his bad mood ruin my day, and I moved swiftly along. “So, do you have any cats?” I asked brightly.

Please say yes. Please say yes.I needed every client I could get. Even a grumpy one with bad taste in coffee.

“No.” He shook his head once, offering me no more than that. He must have noticed that I’d hoped for a different answer. “Not a cat person.”

“Your mom maybe? Or grandma?”

He shrugged. “No. Sorry,” he added as if an afterthought. Apparently the word came from his lips with difficulty. He was clearly the type of man who gave orders and never apologized for anything.

“Wife?” I wasn’t sure why I asked that. I hadn’t the slightest interest in whether or not he was married. But, there was no ring on his finger. “Or girlfriend, maybe?”

“No.”

Oh.That was bad news.

Realizing that Mr. Grumpy and his sexy-as-sin self—but probably not that huge dick after all—really had absolutely no reason to be here and, on top of that, zero interest in chatting, disappointment weighed on my shoulders. New orders would certainly have helped my desperate situation, but with this “not a cat person” in front of me, I was getting nowhere. I tried not to let my shoulders droop as I watched him take another sip from the pale-yellow ceramic cup in his hand.

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