Page 9 of Sweet Surrender
I suspected it had something to do with the strong coffee Brian hadinsisted on paying for, plus the three expressos I’d nailed when I got to work.
Thankfully, everything had gone smoothly. The coffee machine hadmiraculously been repaired overnight, every customer paid before they left, tipping me generously, and no bratty kid ran head first into me, caking me in beans.
As the last of the morning customers left, and I set about wiping downthe counter, the chime rang to indicate the door opening. My heart leaped into my throat when I looked up and my eyes clashed with silvery-gray eyes that I had thought about more than I should have.
Nash didn’t tear his gaze away from me as he beelined to thecounter, or rather, to me, walking with a confidence that made it seem like he owned the place.
His broad frame filled the aisle leading to the counter, and in his slickdesigner suit, he looked out of place in a greasy diner like Bean and Gone.
“Hello, Savannah,” he said when he reached the counter and perchedon a stool.
Like a total idiot, I stood gaping at him, momentarily forgetting how toform coherent words. Fuck, he was handsome. The memories I’d replayed over and over throughout the night did not do justice to how gorgeous he was in reality.
“Wh…what are you doing here?” I said when I found my voice.I hated knowing that my cheeks were on fire.
His head tilted to the side, and a smile graced his face. “Do younormally ask your customers why they come here?”
There was a hint of teasing in his tone, yet my cheeks flushed evenhotter. My eyes darted around to see if Harry was nearby and had heard me being rude to a customer. Luckily, he was in mid-conversation with Paul, who was cleaning the stove.
“Right, sorry,” I said, running a hand down my bean-free uniform.“What can I get you?”
“Coffee, black, no sugar. Thank you.”
“Sure,” I replied, getting straight to work, and feeling Nash’s eyes onme the entire time.
At the end of the counter, Charlie and Michelle, the two waitresses Iregularly worked with, whispered excitedly to each other while staring at Nash. He paid them no attention, I imagined he was used to women losing their heads whenever he was around.
“One black coffee,” I said, placing the steaming mug in front ofhim.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, no,” I replied, waving a hand in dismissal. “It’s on me. It’s theleast I can do to say thank you for your help yesterday, and for getting Brian to give me a lift this morning.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said, before giving me a smile that hit mestraight in the core.
For a moment, neither of us moved. There was something about thisman and his hypnotic gaze that made it impossible to turn away. Without thinking, my tongue ran across my bottom lip, and the audible sigh he let out caused a flutter deep in my belly.
“I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered dinner?” he tentatively asked,breaking the electric air between us.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say yes. Fuck, I really wanted to,and I wanted to eat a whole lot more than just dinner with this man. But common sense, or perhaps self-preservation, kicked in.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my tone full of regret.
He sighed again, this time in frustration. “Can’t blame a man fortrying.”
I gave him a small smile, while in the back of my head, a little voicewas yelling at me, wondering why the hell I had a self-imposed ban on men.
Liam Olsen. That was why.
“Actually, I did come here for more than just coffee and a bruisedego,” Nash said, his lips twitching into a smirk, and pulling me out of the dark hole I was teetering on thinking about my lousy, rotten ex.
“Oh?” I replied, unsure why a spark of hope zapped through me.
“Yeah, one of the mechanics at the garage I use took a look at yourcar. Aside from the damage from the crash yesterday, your brakes are completely worn, and the head gasket has blown. It’s likely to cost a few thousand to repair.”
“Oh,” I repeated as my shoulder slumped. I didn’t know why, Iwas expecting that to be the answer, yet the news still felt like a blow.
Wiping down the side again, I tried not to let the disappointmentshow. “It’s not worth a few thousand, and even if it was, I don’t have that kind of money.”
