"A man like that adding cream and sugar to his coffee. Sacrilege. He'd look like a girly man."
"My father drinks his coffee with cream." I turned back to Sam and waved. "Never mind that. Why do you think he's been coming in here for a year if he hates coffee?"
"You, pretty girl. Get over there and stop playing innocent. You're not fooling anyone."
"Whatever." I rolled my eyes playfully and grabbed a blueberry muffin before heading that way. The plate shook in my hand, and I hated myself for being so damn nervous, but if the poor guy, or anyone else, knew the number of fantasies I'd experienced because of him... I'd die a slow death.
Nate turned his head and licked the side of his perfect mouth subtly. "Jenna. How are you?"
Four words. It was a record.
"I'm good." I glanced over my shoulder to find Sam staring us down. "My boss wanted me to bring this over."
"That so?" He nodded toward the table and leaned back. Cocky ass. "Set it down. I don't bite on the first date."
"This isn't a date." I forced myself to sound like the type of snob my brother would be proud of.
"No? All right then. A year of flirting and no date? Harsh, baby girl. Harsh."
Baby girl? Why did him calling me some silly, childish name leave warmth swirling in the pit of my stomach?
His eyes dragged across me as I stood there, looking like the moron I was.
"Anyway. Here you go." I set the plate down and turned as Nate reached out and grabbed my wrist.
"Thank you, Jenna." He smiled and the world melted around me. I could almost hear the sound of my own screams from the morning before. Coming to the image of him touching me, owning me, fucking me within an inch of my life. If only it were more than an early morning fantasy.
"Anytime," I whispered and pulled my hand from his slowly. His hand was rough, calloused, strong. I turned before I mumbled something embarrassing and gave my internal thoughts life by speaking them out loud.
I wanted him in ways that I'd never voice. Not to anyone. Especially not him.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon was a blur as various customers filled up the small shop. Nate left about an hour after our conversation, which I didn't blame him a bit for. He deserved a real woman, someone who had the courage to invite him out or sit in his lap, or something hot and uncouth.
After cleaning up, I headed home for a quick shower and changed into a cream-colored dress for my sister-in-law’s birthday party. My brother could sit on something and rotate. I wasn't getting Denise diamonds of any sort. I wasn't getting her anything. She was a grown-ass woman with a billionaire husband. If she didn't have it already, he could buy it.
I'd stopped accepting money from my family years before, much to my parents’ aggravation. Why no one could understand that I wanted to be independent and proud of making my own way in the world was beyond me.
I pulled up to the oversized mansion by the bay and nodded at the valet who opened the door.
"Evening, Miss Jenna. How are you?" The middle-aged man nodded. I could never remember anyone's name seeing that my mother replaced staff like she did her shoes - often.
"I'm great. How are you?" I ran my fingers through my shoulder-length hair and pushed it over my shoulder.
"Excellent. Enjoy your evening." He got into my Toyota as I walked toward the house. A couple of deep breaths later, I was walking toward the sound of my family, laughing over something in the kitchen.
"And then Denise told them to try again. She could still hear the cow mooing." My brother laughed loudly, and everyone standing around him did as well. His bombshell blond wife was tucked against his side, her smile as fake as her breasts.
My father turned toward me and smiled. "There's my little girl. How are you?"
Everyone said their hellos, and I walked around and gave out hugs, hating every second of it. Denise squeezed me before moving back and gripping my shoulders.
"Darek tells me that you work down at De Luca. I love that place." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
I still wanted to know where my brother found someone like her. She was plastic. Fake. Cold. A complete lie.
"Yeah, but keep it to yourself. I'm happy living my little undercover life." I pulled back from her hold and moved over to pour myself a glass of wine.
