I don’t ramble like this. I don’tdonervous babbling, years of polite customer service drilled into my very being. But something about this man—thisunreasonablyattractive pizza man—has me… on edge.
He shoots me a look as he puts the pizza in the oven but I can’t tell if he’s annoyed, bewildered, amused or a combination of all three.
I work in customer service, I can read people like a book.
The fact that I can’t read him?
Intriguing.
He disappears through the swinging door that leads to the back and I blow out a breath.
I glance around the dining room again. Conversations murmur on, overlapping, but I can’t make out any specific words from where I’m sitting. No one is paying me any attention though, or even glancing my way, anymore.
I pull out my phone from the pile of work uniforms in my messenger bag, deciding to kill some time while waiting, and notice a couple of text messages from my nosy roommate, Casey.
Hotshot: Hey! What time will you be back?
Hotshot: You okay?
Hotshot: It’s pretty late and storming out, are you on your way home?
I sigh, trying to decide what to text back. Casey tends to be overprotective and in my space a lot— literally since we live together—and, although I appreciate the thoughtfulness, I’m a big girl, I can come home whenever I want.
One more year, Kallie.
I shoot him a cryptic reply with just to piss him off, then put the phone away without waiting for a reply. I’ll be home soon anyway.
Another shiver runs through me, not from the pizza man this time, and I realize I’m still dripping all over the bench and floor. Without his heated gaze distracting me I’m getting cold, though the warmth of the pizza oven helps a bit.
The amazing smell of baked bread, melted cheese, and warmed tomato sauce permeates the air and I take a breath, pushing my thick mop of wet curly brown hair out of my face.
“Here. For your hair.”
I startle at the sound of his deep voice, letting out a tiny shriek.
Damn, I didn’t hear him coming at all.
How the heck did he get back without me noticing?
Mr. Tall, Mysterious, and Handsome holds out a towel in his hands, a tiny smile curving the edges of his lips. Much to my chagrin, his suit jacket is back on and buttoned up, hiding away his delicious arms.
Sigh.
What I wouldn’t have given to have them wrapped around me.
I cough, trying to clear away myveryinappropriate thoughts.
“Thank you,” I say stupidly, grabbing the towel from his hands and patting my head with it.
He turns and walks away again, movements smooth and self-assured, like he owns the damn place.
Honestly, he probably does, judging by the way a few of the customers nod at him respectfully as he moves past. He carries this kind of aura, like a single look holds more power than any words could.
He disappears through a side door I hadn’t noticed before and reappears a moment later behind the counter. I watch as he pulls the pizza from the oven and slices it with practiced ease. I think I see mushrooms, onions, and ham. It looksdelicious.
He slides it into a box and pushes it across the counter toward me with a smirk.
Oh, god. He has dimples. I’m done for.
