My voice comes out a little too bright, a little too rushed.“No time,” I say, waving a dismissive hand.“We should get there right away.Make sure Helen’s not swamped and everything’s under control.”I glance at the door, feigning eagerness.“Plenty of time to change later.She’s used to my strange outfits.”I manage a weak laugh.
I hold my breath, praying he buys it.
The light in his eyes dims, replaced by a thoughtful scrutiny that makes my stomach sink.
He tilts his head.“Is everything alright?You seem… off.”
My wall of breezy nonchalance is clearly riddled with cracks.My mind scrambles for a better deflection, but panic scatters my thoughts.
I manage a small, shaky smile, forcing myself to meet his searching gaze.“I’m fine.Really.”I stall, my mind desperately searching for the right words.“I’m just…” I make a vague gesture with my hand, trying to articulate a feeling that’s not entirely false.“I’m just anxious to get to the café.”
He’s quiet for a long, torturous beat.His green eyes search my face.
He knows.
My heart plummets.
He knows I’m not being honest.
A slow breath leaves him, and some of the searching intensity recedes.“You know you can talk to me about anything, right, love?”He lifts his hand, thumb gently brushing against my cheekbone.
All I can do is nod, afraid of shattering if I try to speak.
His lips curve into a faint smile.It doesn’t quite erase the knowing look in his eyes.“Okay.Let’s get you to your café.”
Relief so potent it almost makes my knees buckle floods through me.But as we leave the sanctuary of his bedroom, I can’t shake the weight of his gaze.
I have to find an apartment.
Fast.
Before the messy reality of my life tarnishes the way he sees me.
With any luck, I can get it sorted out without him ever knowing just how close to the edge I’ve been.
FORTY EIGHT
MATTHEW HOLDS THE door of Maddy’s Place open for me.The café is already humming with lively chatter, punctuated by the rhythmic hiss of the steamer wand.The rich, comforting aroma of freshly ground coffee pulls me into a reality worlds away from the intimate calm of his bedroom.As we navigate the tightly packed tables toward the counter, his hand rests on the small of my back.A solid, reassuring presence.Still, I’m acutely aware of my slinky black dress.A fresh wave of self-consciousness rolls beneath my surface composure.
Up ahead, Grace is at the register, a focused frown on her face as she processes a payment.Helen is at the pastry case, arranging a croissant on a small plate.The customer, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile, thanks Grace and turns away with her plate and coffee in hand just as we reach the counter.
“Good morning,” I say, trying to sound like my usual self.
Helen looks up, a greeting already on her lips, but her eyes land on me and widen.Sharp and assessing.They flick to Matthew standing beside me, then snap back to my face.A thousand unspoken questions, and a healthy dose of triumphant speculation, ignite in their brown depths.Before I can launch a preemptive strike against whatever teasing is about to erupt, she’s beaming, wiping her hands on her apron as she rounds the counter.
“Grace!”Helen’s voice rings out, making Grace look up, startled.“Be a dear and get this strapping young man whatever his heart desires.”Her eyes twinkle as she gives Matthew a thorough, openly appreciative once-over that makes heat flood my cheeks.“On the house, of course!”
“Helen!”I exclaim, my voice a mortified squeak.Grace giggles discreetly.
Matthew lets out an amused chuckle.“Thanks,” he says, watching Helen with fascinated delight as she winks back.
Oh, this is just great.
Completely unfazed, Helen takes my hand, her grip nonnegotiable.“And you are coming with me.”She tugs me towards the back, leaving a chuckling Matthew with a giggling Grace.
Helen drags me with an impatient energy into the organized chaos of the back room.She steers me toward her cluttered desk and, with a decisive nudge, propels me into her chair.It swivels slightly under my weight as she hops onto the edge of her desk, directly in front of me.She leans forward, elbows on her knees.Her eyes are alight with a voracious curiosity as they do a slow sweep from my black stilettos up to the halter neckline of my dress.
A knowing smirk plays on her lips as she flicks her chin at my outfit.“That’s quite the statement piece for a Saturday morning.Is this what you wore last night to confront James?”
