I looked down at the brown shoes I’d been told to wear to this fitting, cheeks going the same color as the suit fabric.
“The sweaters I have for you guys for the reception are so touchable, too. Iggy’s gonna be all over you,” Seth enthused.
“What makes you think I want Iggy all over me?” I asked, risking a glance at Seth, who was grinning like a kid in a candy store.
“You wouldn’t be all tangled up about it if youdidn’t,” Seth said. “If you weren’t interested, you wouldn’t care.”
I didn’t have a response to that.
“You’re taking Iggy to the wedding,” Seth repeated. “And that’s final.”
8
Iggy
“You’re supposedto be resting that wrist,” Dante said for what felt like the hundredth time since he’d driven me to the coffee shop this morning.
Stupid best friend looking out for me.
“I am resting it,” I said, as I tucked the splint I’d taken off into the pocket of my apron. “Look, it’s sleeping.”
Dante raised an eyebrow, spreading cards out on his regular table.
I grabbed the takeout cup marker from beside the register and drew three little Zs on it, holding it out for inspection.
“That’d be cute if you weren’t risking, like, permanent injury.”
“It’s a sprain, it’ll be fine. People don’t die of sprains.”
“I don’t have a comeback for that,” Dante said, flipping the first card he’d spread out. “But that doesn’t mean this is a good idea.”
Mrs. Torres shuffled inside at that moment, rescuing me from Dante’s disapproval. “Take a seat, Mrs. Torres. I’ll bring it over.”
She’d ordered the same thing—a triple-shot latte in a small cup—every single day since I’d opened the place.
It was nice to have regulars.
“I could do that,” Dante said without looking up from his cards.
“She’d send it back,” I said softly. Dante worked the odd shift here and there—more often since Liam left me and wasn’t here to stand over him with a permanent scowl on his face—but Mrs. Torres only accepted coffee from me.
Which was flattering, but wasn’t doing my wrist any good.
“I’m reading this spread and then putting an apron on,” he said, flipping the last card. “And putting a bandage on that wrist for you, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
I gritted my teeth as I tried to tamp down coffee grounds with my left hand, the sudden spike of pain all the way up to my elbow making my eyes water.
It was maybe, possibly possible that Dante had a point.
“Cards telling you anything interesting?” I asked, grabbing a cup for Mrs. Torres.
“Gonna rain,” Dante reported as the espresso machine purred into life.
Theo gave a tiny puppy woof from where he was sleeping in the corner, watching the machine suspiciously.
“It’s okay, baby,” I cooed. “And I’ve seen the weather report for today, too,” I added to Dante. “What else have you got?”
“Well,” Dante began, touching each of the cards spread out in a cross in front of him in turn. “I do see a hard working, reliable, handsome knight with a huge dick in your future.”
