Page 21 of Crash
“I ain’t noMasterchefbarista, but I do know a good bean,” he said as the smell of coffee began to fill the kitchen.
“Thank you.”
He poured the steaming liquid into a mug and nudged it across the bench. “You’re welcome.”
Curling my hand around the handle, I picked up the mug and breathed in the rich scent of coffee before taking a sip.Wow.
“Good?” he asked and I nodded. “Told ya. It’s the fancy organic kind from Indonesia, you know the one where monkeys eat it, shit it out, and they wash and sell it.”
My eyes widened, and for a beat, I thought he was serious. “Don’t,” I said, cracking a smile.
Bobby started laughing. “I knew I’d get you to smile sooner or later. Glad it was sooner.”
“By telling me my coffee is a derivative of monkey shit?”
“You are a Fuller, right?” He cocked his head to the side.
“Point.”
“New jobs can be rough,” he went on. “It’s nice to have a mate. Believe me, I’ve worked in some shitholes.I know.”
“Thanks.” Yeah, I didkindalike the guy.
“I’ll slide this in your inbox later,” he said, waving the invoice around.
Movement out the corner of my eye made me pause awkwardly, the mug poised halfway up to my lips.
“Stop being such a dirty bastard.”
Like it was my default reaction, I froze as Lincoln appeared beside me. After the other day, I’d avoided him like the plague. Actually talking to him wasn’t part of my new super-duper plan to conquer my fear and grow my confidence tree.
“Hey,” Bobby complained. “You took it there.” To me he said, “I’ve known the guy for a week, and look how he treats me.” He winked before turning to start picking up some of the boxes.
I shifted from foot to foot, the coffee in my hands forgotten. Lincoln turned his attention to me, obviously wanting to say something but hesitating. His green eyes were bright, and in that moment, it was like we were…Idunno, more. I wondered if it was actually me that had him tongue-tied or just plain old regret at letting it slip he knew my secret, but for the first time, I didn’t want to run. I guess that was progress.
Turning, I sat the mug down on the bench, glad for the short reprieve from his gaze. How could a guy look at me like that? I mean, really look like he could see right through me.
“Violet,” he said after a beat. “Can I talk to you?”
I shrugged, not trusting myself to speak.
He glanced at Bobby who’d disappeared out into the storeroom. “In private?”
I nodded. “Upstairs.” There was no way I was going to avoid this conversation, so it was better it went down sooner rather than later.
Deciding I needed the coffee more than ever, I picked up the mug and left the kitchen with Lincoln hot on my heels. As he followed me up the stairs, I was overly aware that he was right at ass height. Did he like the look of my ass? Oh, fuck. The stupid shit I thought.
Opening the door, I flicked on the light and sat my coffee down on the desk. Lincoln stepped in behind me, and suddenly, my little home away from home felt really small. I almost cracked a window to let some air in.
He closed the door softly, his eyes on mine again, and I found myself having another ‘deer in headlights’ moment.
“Listen, about the other day… I didn’t know that Ash hadn’t mentioned he’d told us.”
“It wasn’t his business,” I snapped, still irritated as fuck that he knew.
Lincoln sighed, his brow furrowing. “It doesn’t change my opinion about you, Violet.”
“It does,” I said, my voice wavering. “I can see it in your eyes.”
