“Cam?” His lopsided grin almost puts me at ease. Except for the whole Adonis vibe he’s got going on. Well over six feet tall, he’s perfection in his Levi’s and snug tee emphasizing his flat abs and broad chest. The kind of guy who can wink at a girl, and she’ll melt athisfeet.
His warm hand envelops mine, and dammit if I don’t hold on a moment too long. He leans closer, as if he’s going to kiss me, and I jerk back. But he’s only reaching for my chair, and a blush heats my cheeks. “Thanks.”
“No trouble finding the place?” Skimming a hand down my arm as he pulls away, he smiles again, and I try not to lose my words completely when he sits acrossfromme.
“I only live a few blocks east. You come hereoften?”
“One of the guys from my dojo owns the place. He gave me shit for months when he saw a Siren to-go cup on my desk. Now I’m here every weekend.” He runs a hand through his short-cropped hair, and I wonder if he’s as nervous asIam.
“So…what’s good? What should Iorder?”
“Do you trust me?” Azure eyes, a layer of stubble along an angular jaw, and a single scar that bisects his eyebrow are probably at the top of most women’s fantasy scorecards. When my gaze lands on his lips, I force a deep breath. This man should be a model…and it's been a long time since I’ve been withanyone.
“Um…sure?” I dig a twenty out of my wallet, but he shakeshishead.
“Mytreat.”
Before I can protest, he ambles off, and I can’t resist watching his ass and the way his back muscles shift under the t-shirt as he leans against the counter. Though my daily swims keep me reasonably fit, West is in another league. One that runs, lifts weights, and probably does CrossFit. On most days, I can’t manage withoutmycane.
My right hand starts to tingle, and I curse.Not now.Stealing another glance at West, who’s smiling and charming the barista, I squeeze my forearm. The thick scar from a white-hot piece of shrapnel has no sensation, but underneath, the muscle spasms painfully until I find the trigger point. Ink surrounds the worst of the troughs from the shrapnel, but no amount of flowers, stars, and doves can mask whathappened.
By the time West returns, my hand’s steady again, and as he deposits the tray between us, I gawk. “I love coffee, but two espressos and a latte? Each? Are you trying to keep me up allnight?”
He winks, and my stomach does a little somersault. “Maybe.”
When will I learn to think before I open my mouth? Then again, it’s not like I’ve had a lot of practice flirting lately. “So…uh…what isallthis?”
“Two different espressos—one from Guatemala and one from Indonesia. That’s the coffeetasting.”
“And the latte?” I quirk aneyebrow.
“That’s not alatte.”
“Then what is it?” I eye the “latte,” suddenly unsure I have any right to call myself a coffee addict. A dark brown heart drawn in the foam slowly spreads as the tiny bubblesburst.
“Delicious.” He nudges a glass of water towards me. “There’s a whole ritual around the tasting. Adam, the guy who owns the place, walked me through it my first time. Before we start, cleanse your palate with the sparklingwater.”
“Okay.” I lift the glass to my lips, and he mirrors my movement. The bubbles burst over my tongue, and I can’t look away from his intense gaze. Squirming in my seat, I wonder what he’d taste like—or look like without that t-shirt.Stop it, Delgado. This isn’tadate.
Even I don’t believe my own bullshitanymore.
“The best flavors are at the bottom of the cup.” He picks up a spoon the size of his pinky and gives the first shot of espresso alittlestir.
Desperate for any distraction, I try to follow along, but maneuvering this tiny utensil in a cup the size of a golf ball proves a devilish task, and as I slosh espresso over the rim, my embarrassment rises, threatening to bubble over. How the hell is he sograceful?
“Now slurp the espresso.” My face must show my disbelief because he chuckles. “You said you trusted me,remember?”
Idid.
When West lifts his espresso cup, I do the same, and I’m surprised at the strong chocolaty scent that wafts from the dark brew. Though I feel ridiculous slurping coffee like a two-year-old, the taste shocks me. Far from just coffee, I pick out several distinctflavors.
“This isreallygood.”
His lips twitch into a half-smile, and his shoulders relax. “What did youtaste?”
“Orange, chocolate, and…butterscotch.”
He nods. “Try theothercup?”
