Page 10 of Rescue
Chapter 5
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Miles
The next morning, I decide to drive by Mable’s Manor on my way into town on the off chance that it’s open. Like I said, I’m a man of habit and one of those habits is good coffee. Mable’s is the best and I’m like a moth to a flame when it comes to that place. I know she broke her hip, but maybe someone else can run the business for her while she’s down.
I’m pleasantly surprised to see the lights on and a few cars parked out front. I stop and hop out, instantly refreshed and ready for my favorite cup of Joe. Walking in, I’m blasted by the delicious aroma of good coffee and pastries. This is one of my favorite places. There’s just some kind of magic about the small cafe and its owner. Mable brings everyone and everything she meets to life and this place is no different.
I take a look around when I walk in and am surprised to find a young and gorgeous woman. She seems vaguely familiar, but I know she’s not someone who lives around here. I know I would have noticed her if I had seen her around town.
She’s short with chestnut brown hair, a slim athletic figure, and nice perky tits. She’s turns around to grab something off the back counter which gives me a better view of her pert, round butt. She’s wearing a white t-shirt and some tight black leggings under her apron and the way the leggings hug to her skin is making my mouth water. I enjoy the view for a second longer before shaking it off and walking up to get in line. I’m still admiring her amazing figure when she flicks the most captivating green eyes up at me and meets my gaze. Our eyes lock and everything else fades away. Somehow, without even knowing her, I can feel the stress she is under, but I also sense a bit of attraction in her eyes. She blinks and it’s gone, her eyes now masked with mild curiosity and maybe a hint of recognition before returning to her task. She’s working behind the counter on another customer's order, so I wait in line and watch her move.
She’s obviously new since I’ve never seen her here before, but she seems to move around the space with a sense of familiarity and ease, as though she’s done this a million times. After the customer in front of me finishes ordering, I step up and wait patiently. She grabs a pastry out of the case, plates it, and slides it down the counter. She turns towards the espresso machine with a look of intimidation, muttering something to herself she gears up to conquer it.
I don’t know how I can tell what’s going on in her mind, but I’m completely captivated by her, enthralled by the show going on in her eyes. It’s almost as if I can feel an invisible connection between us, unlike anything I’ve felt for anyone else. A pang of guilt runs through me, but I tamp it down quickly. No need to relive the past this morning.
Seemingly surprised by her talents, she is just putting the finishing touches on one of those frozen whipped coffee concoctions when she turns to me. “Hi,” she says in a casual voice, “what can I get you this morning?” She grabs the can of homemade whipped cream off the counter behind her, clearly comfortable multitasking.
“I’d like a large Bold and Busty Bean Flicker,” I say just as she’s tipping the can of whipped cream into the cup. She startles at the drink name and presses a little too hard on the nozzle of the can. Whipped cream sprays out in front of her, covering me, the counter, and the floor in sweet, whipped milk. I shake my hands off, then reach up and run my hands through my hair, knocking some of the cream out of it and chuckle in amusement, “And a sticky bun please,” I say a little belatedly. Somehow, I can’t even find a way to be mad at her.
She stares at me, frozen for just a moment before she noticeably shakes herself out of it. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” she exclaims, running around the counter to try and clean up as much of the cream as she can. She's got a small dish towel in her hand and there’s no way it’s going to be big enough to clean this mess up, but she looks so adorably concerned that I choose not to say anything about it.
I look down to survey the damage and realize there’s so much on me that I’m going to have to go home and shower again. It’s in my hair, on my shirt, and looking down I see that it’s somehow all over my crotch. Yep, I definitely can’t go into the store looking like this. Still, the anger doesn’t come. I take a deep breath.I’m the boss, I think to myself,it’s ok if I’m late every once in a while. I take a moment to note my uncharacteristic behavior, then decide not to dwell on it too much.
She seems to notice the mess all over my pants around the same time that I do. Lost in thought, I don’t get the chance to stop her before she’s wiping me down with her little towel. Mortified, and a little worried that she’s going to notice the lingering bulge in my pants, I quickly grab her hands and help her to stand up. As she recognizes what she was doing, her eyes widen in shock and her face turns an adorable shade of red. I’m standing here covered in what will soon be sour milk, and yet I’m amused and enchanted. “It’s ok, it’ll all wash out. Really, it's no big deal,” I say, trying to make her feel better. I look down and notice that I still have a hold of her hands and quickly let them drop.
“I’m so, so sorry! I’ll make your drink right now. It’s on me,” she finally manages to say through her very clear embarrassment. She rushes back around the counter, looks at a small menu Mabel keeps beside the register for new customers, rolls her eyes heavenward and says something under breath that sounds a little like a curse, then gets to work.
She starts the machine and then hands me my sticky bun without making eye contact. She’s busy for another few minutes finishing up the drink. Finally, seeming to gather all her courage, she turns around with my drink in her hand. “Again, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I did that. It seems Nana got a wild hair to change all the drinks names while I was gone, so I’ve been so lost this morning. Your drink and sticky bun are on the house.”
“Mabel is your Nana? So that makes you . . . Willa’s daughter?” I ask.
“Yeah, Penelope, or P, Penny, Pen, whatever you want really. Well, not YOU you. You, like people who are my friends, not that you aren’t my friend, it’s just . . .”
She stops suddenly, probably realizing that she’s rambling. I must have the goofiest grin on my face, but I don’t even care. She’s the most charming woman I’ve ever met, and that’s not to mention her eyes. I’ve never seen anything like them.
I remember the twins having a friend named Penelope, but they’re 6 years younger than me so we didn’t hang out with the same crowd. “I think you went to high school around the same time as my brothers, Brody and Bryant?” It’s a statement, but I say it as a question hoping she’ll confirm I’m right.
“Yeah, that’s right. So that must make you Miles? Or is it Mason? How are your brothers? I haven’t had a chance to see anyone since I just got back into town yesterday,” she says, and I feel a twinge of jealousy that she’s asking about the twins. That’s weird. It’s not like I even know this girl.
“Miles, yeah.” I give her a smile in confirmation. “They’re doing well. They’re both local firefighters now. I’ll let them know you’re back in town.” I pause for a minute, unsure of what to say. Then it dawns on me. “How’s your Nana? Is she going to be ok? I was worried about her yesterday when I stopped by and the cafe wasn’t open.”
“She’ll be alright. I assume by now the whole town knows about her failed pole dancing attempt.” She laughs as her cheeks redden a little in embarrassment, then says, “She had hip surgery yesterday and Dr. Miller says she should be back on her feet in no time.”
“That's good to hear. I’m glad she’s going to be ok.” I see that she’s been offering me my drink this whole time, so I reach out to grab it. Our fingers briefly touch and a spark of energy runs up my arm. Time seems to stand still for a moment and I am just about to ask her out when a guy clears his throat behind me and I’m brought back to reality.
Trying to shake off the encounter, I suddenly remember that I’m covered in whipped cream. I need to hurry home and shower so I can make it to work. I know I’m the boss, but I think it makes the employees more productive knowing I’m in the building and able to hold them accountable. “Ok then, guess I better go shower!” I say and then curse myself inwardly cringing. Did I really need to announce that out loud to her and everyone else in the cafe?
“Oh, right, you probably need to get going,” she says, seeming to snap out of her thoughts. “I can’t believe I sprayed you with whipped cream. I feel so bad!”
“No worries,” I say and turn to leave. A large line has formed behind me and I’m slightly mortified that so many people witnessed that encounter and that I’m covered in what is quickly becoming sticky, stinky, spoiled milk.
“Tell your brothers I said ‘Hi’!” she says loudly as I’m walking out the door. I nod and wave goodbye.
On the drive home I replay everything that just happened. What is it about her that has me so intrigued? I just met her, but it feels like something big just happened. I remember her as the thin little kid my brothers used to run around with. From the looks of it she’s blossomed into a gorgeous young woman any man would be lucky to have.
I wonder idly if either of my brothers ever hooked up with her. I don’t think I could ever date someone who dated, or slept with, one of my brothers. It just feels wrong. I send up a little prayer that neither of them pulled anything with her.
