“Blind spots, huh?”
“That’s right.”
A group of twenty-somethings comes through the door and Brynn offers me a smile. She hesitates, almost as if there’s something more she wants to say, but…
“Well, I should get back to work.”
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“Anytime.”
I sit back in my chair and watch Brynn as she handles her customers. She’s personable. Sweet. And she has this bright, magnetic personality that draws me to her like a fucking moth to a porch light. I won’t act on these impulses—she’s far too young for me. She’s twenty years old—literally half my age. But Jesus Christ, do I want to. I really do. Young or not, there is just something about this girl that re-lights a fire inside of me. A fire that burned out a long time ago.
The twenty-somethings get their coffee and depart, leaving me sitting at my table with about half a dozen other people scattered around the coffee shop. I watch Brynn wiping down the counter and laughing with her co-workers. Her voice is high and light. It’s musical. Not to be too poetic or anything, but her voice, and especially her laughter, reminds me of the crystal wind-chimes hanging outside my bedroom window.
As if she feels me watching her, she glances over. Her eyes sparkle, and a small smile turns the corners of her mouth up. Yeah, I would really love nothing more than to sit her on that counter and rail her right now. But I can’t. I won’t let myself fall into that rabbit hole of lust and desire. It wouldn’t be good for either of us.
I turn away from her and focus on my report. As I do, a man in a dark suit walks into the coffee shop. I’ve always had this innateability to read people. To get a sense of them. It’s not perfect, of course, but my gut feeling about a person is usually right more often than it’s wrong. And something about the guy who just walked in immediately sets my teeth on edge, so I sit back, quietly observing him as he approaches the counter.
He smiles widely at Brynn, and I frown, liking the guy even less. A few inches shorter than me, with a lean build and professionally styled hair, about the only thing the guy has going for him, in my view, is that he dresses well. His suit is designer and well-tailored. But he’s got an air about him I find completely off-putting. He chats Brynn up, making her laugh, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from jumping up, dragging him out of the coffeehouse by the lapels of his designer fucking suit, and throwing him into the street.
Although my face is buried in my computer, I’m listening to their conversation. He’s flirting hard with her. Brynn is giggling a lot and sounds nervous. For being as beautiful as she is, she doesn’t seem like a girl with a lot of experience with men. And this guy is laying it on thick. I want to stand up and tell her this guy is feeding her a line. That he’s full of shit and is just playing her to get into her pants. But it’s not my place.
It’s harder than hell to remain silent, though, when he invites her to dinner. Brynn is reluctant but agrees, and I have to force myself to stay calm and not put a hole in the wall. Letting out a long, deep breath, I calm myself down. I have no claim to this girl. I can’t dictate who she does and doesn’t go out with. But… I can make sure she has all the information she needs to make a good decision.
On a scrap of paper, I jot down the fucker’s name. I may not have a claim on Brynn, but there’s something I don’t like aboutthis guy, something that starts red flags waving in my mind, so I want to make certain she knows what she’s getting herself into.
2
CHAPTER 2
BRYNN
“That guy is so hot,” Shelby squeals. “I can’t believe he asked you out. No, wait. I can’t believe you even hesitated to say yes! What were you thinking, girl?”
My cheeks flush, and my gaze falls to the floor. Everything happened so fast that I really haven’t had time to stop and consider it all. Instead, I keep wiping the counter, scrubbing off imaginary stains and crumbs, giving myself a minute to settle down. I glance at the table in the corner, but see that Mr Black-Coffee-PI is gone, and I feel a slight pang of disappointment.
“Brynn?”
I shake my head and turn to Shelby. “What?”
She laughs. “Already daydreaming about that guy naked, huh?”
“Yeah, something like that,” I lie.
The business card with his cell phone number on it is sitting on the counter. Shelby snatches it up with a giggle.
“Cole Dosset,” she says and frowns. “What istalent acquisition?”
“He said he worked in the casting department for a couple of reality shows or something.”
Shelby squeals again and jumps up and down. “Is he going to put you in a reality show?”
“Bite your tongue. I’d do porn before I’d do reality television.”
“Rawr,” she teases.
As the last customers filter out of the shop, I snatch the card back and slip it into the pocket of my half-apron, then turn away. Shelby, though, won’t leave me alone. She walks right behind me.
