Page 8 of Feverburn

“Why is that?”

“I respect my dad and grandpa enough to make sure they never have to see it close down.”His eyebrows knit together.“I guess I just feel obligated.”

“Obligations are tricky, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, I’ll be honest; you’re the first person to ask me that in a while.”

I slid the drink across the counter.“That’s a shame. Here, have a sip.”

He picked up the medium-sized cup that looked like a children’s size in his clutch. Veins lined the back of his hand, his left ring fingerbare.“That’s really good. What is it?”

“It’s adirtychai. An iced chai tea latte with anextrashot of espresso. If you want two shots next time, ask for afilthychai.”His eyes widened slightly at the wordsdirtyandfilthyescaping my mouth.

Kaylee clamored in, interrupting our bubble of flirtation as she jutted the door open with her hip, her arms wrapped around a large box.“The freaking bastards gave me orange straws! I don’t want straws, you know, to save the sea turtles! But I vividly remember ordering black straws!”

Carson went to help her with the box, but she heaved it on the counter before he could.“Hey dude, glad you’re here. Did Ro tell you the idea she had?”

“No,”was all he answered, looking between us.

She gestured at the tables, launching into our vision. He stood there patiently, listening to her. His demeanor was calm, damn near stoic. He must’ve felt my gaze on him because he side-eyed me once and stood up straighter, puffing out his chest. After a few minutes of listening to Kaylee, he went to leave. He held up his cup at the door and said a simple thanks while looking directly at me. Watching him leave, I gritted my jaw to keep it from slacking.

Well fuck.

Chapter Four

I walked back to my store, holding a cup of heaven. I had no clue what Rosie put in it, but it wasamazing. It was sweet but complex and addicting, much like her presence. The sticker on the cup that was supposed to show my name and drink order instead saidDirtyReno. I chuckled while taking another sip.

A grunt came from behind the register.“I see you visited the witches,”Hank said. He readjusted his flat ass on the stool, his crossword skimming his puffer vest as he tucked it under his arm.

“What do you mean, the witches?”

His fuzzy white eyebrows shot up against hisrichBlack skin.“They’re over there selling rocks and tea. That’s some witchy shit. Back in the 70s, everyone got really into their horoscopes andsex. It was a good time to be alive.”He slurped some coffee from an enamel mug.“God bless ‘em. I’d much rather have that across the street than a bunch of kids screaming for ice cream.”

“Hank, aren’t you supposed to behappyto see kids around? You’re a grandpa.”

“Yeah, but I only like my grandkids. And only for about four hours. Then they start bitching about wanting their iPad. When I was their age, do you know what an iPad was?”

I sighed, staring straight ahead.“A lake.”

“Exactly. Your parents raised you the same way. You turned out okay.”

“No, I didn’t. What are you talking about?”

“Don’t start that shit again, Carsyboy.”

“What, the truth?”

A customer came in, and the day whooshed away, but I couldn’t help thinking about the woman across the street. I’d catch myself glancing out the window, wishing I could see her coffee bar instead of the display window for Kaylee’s crystals.

Seeing Rosie in daylight was a privilege. She was the prettiest woman to ever stand in front of me. Sure, last night she wasnaked, but I’m a gentleman who averted my gaze. The raccoon helped. Even stuck indoors at work, she wascaptivating. Her almond-shaped eyes set fearlessly on mine. The jade-green color hypnotized me with a hint of mischief and definite intellect. Herpale, heart-shaped face was astrikingcontrast against her fiery curls.

When she tucked some of her hair behind her ear, it was pierced in all these places I didn’t know were possible. She had thingoldenhoops and tiny gems nestled to perfection with the delicate anatomy of her ear, making her look like a damn faerie. Considering the piercings and tattoos, I was already impressed with how Rosie adorned herself. She wasn’t typical, far from it.

Her mouth was small but kissable, with lips the most enticing shade of pink. I wondered what other parts of her might be pink but decided I couldn’t go down that road at work. She was short, but compared to me, most people are. She was petite but looked healthy, covered in softness in all the places I liked as a man. Her curves were fuller at the bottom, with shapely hips and thebestass I’ve seen in my entire life. When she turned around to make my drink, I almost groaned, staring at it.

I’ve been around crusty men for too long at the store. A woman around my age shouldn’t put me in a tailspin, but seeing her walk around making my drink made me feel like a fucking idiot. Even worse, I had to finish the damn mural with her staring at the back of my head. I took a deep breath, trying to formulate a plan. I texted my buddy Barrett for a distraction, making sure he was going to the pub quiz tonight.

Leaving my store, I damn near ran into Rosie coming through the back door. Kiszka pounced on her, which was unlike him.

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