He doesn’t really strike me as the type, but then, I never thought I’d be the type to call a man’s grandmother to tattle on him for buying my family’s café either.
Not that that was myonlypurpose in calling.
But it was a major part.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Wow. Is that your suspicious face?”
It’s the smirk that does me in.
How he pulls off a self-deprecating smirk that also saysI like your suspicious faceis beyond me, but I get a little warm glow in my chest all because of that smirk. “This is my concerned face. A beach bum who’s constantly wrapped in seventeen layers to stay warm, who has dizzy spells, and who isn’t wearing spikes on a snow trail is always concern for us locals.”
“Abeach bum? You keep calling me that.”
“You’ve lived on the California coast for the past eight years. Ergo, beach bum. Do you need help back to your car?”
He smiles.
Full-onsmileswith his whole, entire face.
Just like he did in Hawaii. I gesture to his whole head, encompassing every part of the grin. “Put that away. I’m playing dirty and I am now immune.”
He ignores me. “You ever seen a beach bum this pasty?” He points to the very small area of his face where I can actually see his skin. It’s basically just his upper cheeks and his nose.
The rest of him is covered in beard, hat, scarf, coat, gloves, jeans, and boots.
He looks like a J.Crew catalog model.
But taller.
And no, I don’t know how tall J.Crew models usually are. I just know this man is toweringly tall, with massive hands and feet and other parts that I am activelynotthinking about.
“Maybe you have an excellent skin care routine,” I say.
“No, you’re confusing me with Zen again.”
Other than both of them being taller than me, that’s not possible, and I almost give in and laugh.
But onlyalmost.
I donothave the emotional bandwidth for attraction to this man when I know he’s going to hate me very, very soon.
I don’t know if I even have the emotional bandwidth to be his friend.
Jitter finally succeeds in pulling me all the way next to his new favorite person, where he pushes his body against Grey firmly enough that Grey slips again.
“You need to go home,” I tell him.
“Wanted some fresh air.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“How often have you been to this trail?”
“Haven’t. Yet. Why I’m here now.”
