The next morning I was up before my alarm again. I showered, got dressed in my standard t-shirt and sweatpants, including a bra, and even dabbed on a little make-up. Yeah, I was losing it.
I’d spent the entire night dreaming about Max. Hot, steamy, sexy dreams. It’d definitely been too long since I’d gotten laid. Not that I wanted to think about it. Most of my sexual encounters left something to be desired, usually an orgasm or two, and they were few and far between the last few months. It was time to change the batteries in the only man I’d spent time with lately, my BOB.
Downstairs I flipped on the lights out front, just in case. As I chewed on my nail, I second guessed myself and turned the lights back off and retreated to the kitchen.
My mind went deliciously blank as I baked the muffins, sparing me from thinking about Max and replaying the naughty dreams I’d had. I hoped he’d ‘forget’ his coffee again so I could see him, but I knew the chances were small.
When I heard the snowplow pass the shop my heart skipped. No shit, it skipped a beat. I debated on what I should do and immediately felt like those stupid teenaged girls I hated when I was in high school. At 31 I could not let a man run my life, even one small portion of it.
With my brain back on track I continued with my morning, barely noticing the plow still circling the lot when I flipped the lights on out front and started filling the case.
I also barely noticed when that same plow pulled out of the driveway and disappeared into the darkness of the early morning.
Barely.
What a waste of a bra.
When I opened the store I was in a shitty mood. He never promised to come back or to talk to me again, but it still felt like a slight. Like he was blowing me off. Like the compliments he paid me the morning before were only to get his coffee and muffins.
The worst part was I fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.
Oh, well, another one behind me. All it cost me was a tiny bit of stock and a chunk of my pride. I never should have mentioned him to Lexi. Everyone would ask every single week what happened with him and if he’d been back. Eventually they would give up. I hoped.
I turned the lock on the door a few hours later and waited for customers to start flowing in.
Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long. My morning was relatively busy as I filled coffee cups, passed out muffins, and forced thoughts of the sexy snowplow driver from my mind.
At nine-thirty, faithfully, my favorite customers came in bundled in their heavy coats and scarves. Mr. and Mrs. O’Neill had lived in Winterville their entire lives. They were high school sweethearts and still in love sixty-two years later. They came in every morning for cupcakes and muffins.
“Good morning, Charlie. How are you today?”
“I’m doing great Mrs. O’Neill,” I lied as I grabbed their usual order of a blueberry and a banana nut muffin on a plate for them to eat there and two vanilla bean cupcakes to go. I added one large cup of coffee that they would share and set everything on the counter between us. “How are you both doing today?”
“We’re great. Our youngest granddaughter called last night and is having a baby so we’re celebrating.”
“Oh, how exciting! That’s Molly, right? It’ll be your 23rd or 24th great-grandchild?”
Mrs. O’Neill beamed. “Our 24th. Molly is so excited. She and her husband said they’ve been trying for a while and were starting to get worried it wouldn’t happen. Her parents, our boy Roger and his wife Beth, are thrilled.”
Mr. O’Neill stood proudly behind his wife, looking at her with such a look of love that it nearly took my breath. The way they looked and spoke, the baby could have been theirs. To feel that joy and excitement was something I hadn’t experienced before. Being an only child and not having any cousins, a baby was something I’d only known the joy of in movies.
Going through a pregnancy with Mandy was the closest I’d been to sharing in someone’s happiness. Seeing the O’Neill’s filled with that joy and knowing after six kids, fourteen grandkids, and now twenty-four great-grandkids their excitement hadn’t diminished was… intoxicating, refreshing, and heartbreaking.
I wanted that love in my life.
That means letting a man in!
I didn’t like that little voice, but I knew she was right. Sex was easy because it could be done without any real emotions. But love… Love required trust and feelings and all those petrifying things I wasn’t sure about, even if I wanted them.
I’d have to settle for being happy for others, living vicariously through the joy around me. Even though I couldn’t touch it or feel it, I could witness it. It would have to be enough. Until Bite Me! was set up again. Then I could start to imagine it.
“You’ll have to let me know if you have a party. I’d love to bake you some cupcakes.”
The O’Neills were always looking for an excuse to have a party. Any little thing in their family seemed to be a reason to celebrate. After growing up with only me and Grams even reasons most people would celebrate, like birthdays and Christmas, were small, intimate affairs. It was only ever us.
Being a part of a family, something bigger, might have been nice. But Grams did the best she could. She loved me in a way no one else ever did. She gave me everything, and I’d never regret the way I grew up because I always had her.
“Actually, we were thinking about having a little party this weekend. Would you be able to pull something together before then?” Mrs. O’Neill asked with a big chunk of hope.
I smiled and knew I’d do anything to help the sweet couple. They had been customers since I first opened and there was no way I would say no to them, no matter what. “Of course I’ll do it.” I grabbed a notepad and pen and peppered them with questions. “How many?”
“Not everyone can make it so we’re thinking about 40 people will be there.”
“Okay, how many kids?”
Mr. and Mrs. O’Neill counted out the families that were coming, going back and forth about whose kids would be there before turning back to me. “Twelve kids.”
I nodded and wrote the information down. “Any allergies or preferences?”
“No allergies. You know we’ll want vanilla bean, but everyone else is a little more fancy with their tastes. We trust your choices.”
“Usually I’ll do two cupcakes per adult and one per kid. That puts us at 68 cupcakes. Does that seem too high or too low to you?”
Mrs. O’Neill shrugged and turned to her husband. He smiled at her in a way that told me he was only doing the party because she wanted to. He didn’t care how many cupcakes there were or what flavors they were. He just wanted to make her happy.
“That sounds perfect. Is it easier for you if it’s an even number?”
“Nah, I’m good with whatever works for you. Do you want to pick them up Saturday morning when you guys come in or is the party Friday?”
“Saturday will be perfect Charlie. Thank you so much. I don’t know what we would do without you.”
I grinned at her. “I wouldn’t be here without customers like you. Besides, you know I love this.”
Mrs. O’Neill nodded. “By the way, did you hear about that site you were looking at. You said it was across the street? Are you going to be moving over there?”
I shook my head, still disappointed that I didn’t get the location I wanted. “No, someone else signed a lease before I put in an offer.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry to hear that. What are you going to do?”
I shrugged. “I wish I knew, Mrs. O’Neill. I’m still looking. I have an appointment this afternoon to tour a few other places. That site was pretty ideal, but I’ll find something perfect. I just hope my customers are willing to follow me wherever I have to move to.”
“You know we will, dear. If there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”
“Thanks. I will. Enjoy.”
“We always do.”
When the O’Neill’s moved away from the counter I moved back to the cash register where another customer was waiting for me. I didn’t even glance up before asking, “What can I get you?”
“Hello Charlotte.” I knew that voice. I’d dreamt of that voice. Of dirty things that voice would say to me as our bodies met in a sweaty and pleasurable way.
My head snapped up to meet his eyes. I was surprised to see heat in his gaze, but also regret, or maybe guilt. For what I had no idea. It wasn’t like he owed me anything. Maybe he’d seen my light on that morning and thought I’d be pissed that he didn’t stop.
It didn’t matter. We both had jobs to do that required early morning hours and he didn’t owe me anything.
“Hi Max,” I said as evenly as I could manage. I hoped he didn’t hear the breathy way I said his name, or the longing that was plain to my ears.
“I figured I’d come back when the door was unlocked and I didn’t have to barge my way in.”
“Was the coffee okay yesterday?” I asked, looking for any excuse to talk to him. God, I was pathetic.
“Best cup I’ve ever had. And those muffins… God, those were delicious. I almost knocked this morning just so I could get some more, but I didn’t want to bother you. Again.”
I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. Max was wearing its match, and looking at me in a way I couldn’t interpret. “I guess you’re looking for the same today then?”
Was I flirting with him? I couldn’t tell. I felt like I was, but how could taking his order be flirting? Then again, the throaty sound of my voice made me think I was offering up myself instead of my muffins. I had a muffin top, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t interested in that.
Max eyed the case carefully, considering his options. As he looked at the sweets, I looked at him. His short, dark hair curled over his collar and looked a little wet as though he’d just showered. The tan jacket he wore gaped down the middle leaving me staring at his broad chest. I loved it when men wore shirts that were fitted well enough that you could tell what they were hiding underneath.
The sleeves of his jacket moved as he ducked down giving me a mouthwatering idea of just how bulky his arms were. Arms that, in my fantasies, could actually hold me up.
What the hell was this guy doing to me? I’d known him a day and I was drooling over him and dreaming about him. That wasn’t me!
“I’ll definitely have a cup of coffee and two of those muffins, but I think I need to add a Salted Caramel cupcake too. That sounds delicious.” He smiled at me, making my own lips curl in response.
I filled his cup as he spoke and handed it over before bagging his muffins and grabbing a box for his cupcake. “Those are my favorite cupcakes too. And my favorite muffins.”
Max grinned when I handed over his cupcake. “If your favorite cupcake is half as good as your favorite muffin then I know I’ll enjoy it. Do you mind if I sit?” He nodded toward the barstools at the far end of the counter.
I shook my head and watched his ass as he walked the few steps to the stools. When he sat down he looked back at me and caught me staring at him. His cheeks turned pink, but he looked pleased that I was checking him out.
I busied myself with cleaning the counters, restocking the muffins, and waving goodbye to the O’Neill’s when they left. When I glanced at Max I saw him watching me. He smiled and said, “As good as yesterday. The coffee is a little different though.”
Taking his opening for what it could be I worked my way down to where he was sitting. Without anyone else there, I could talk to him. I told myself I would do the same with any other customer and it wasn’t just because he dominated my dreams.
“Yeah, I keep the good stuff in the back. Most of my customers don’t like coffee as strong as I do. You got my personal pot yesterday, which is always super strong. I basically live on coffee.”
Max grinned again. I was starting to wonder if he was the happiest person on the planet or if there was something wrong with him. He smiled constantly. It was a great smile though, one that lit up his eyes and showed off his perfect teeth. A dimple appeared on his right cheek that made him look that much cuter.
“I guess that’s what I get for showing up with everyone else. Maybe one of these days I’ll be able to talk you into another cup of your special coffee.”
He was staring into my eyes, sending my pulse skipping. I wasn’t sure how to answer him. A part of me wanted to run into the back and bring him a cup right then, but I’d already finished my pot and hadn’t had time to brew another one yet. “Maybe tomorrow you’ll get lucky. I don’t have any coffee ready right now. Usually I drink it throughout the day.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” Max said with a serious look.
He really wanted my special coffee. Too bad I wanted something else from him.
In the kitchen I brewed a fresh pot. While I waited for it to finish I contemplated my attraction to Max. Yeah, he was hot, easily one of the most attractive men I’d ever seen. His smile drew me in, making me trust him even though I had no reason to do so.
I’d had plenty of relationships in the past. A psychiatrist could have a field day with my need to find love, my desire for a relationship. But men in my life were always temporary. From the first moments of my life that was the truth. Grams told me my father told my mother he didn’t want anything to do with me when she found out she was pregnant. He was a drunk so I know I was better off without him, but it still hurt that he wanted nothing to do with me.
Of course my mother wasn’t much better. She stuck around long enough to pass me off onto Grams, her mom, and vanished. Every so often I would get a birthday or Christmas card from her or a phone call, but it was never regular and always late. When I was in middle school she died of a drug overdose.
I never knew what happened to my father. And I really didn’t care.
In spite of that though, I was constantly searching for someone to fill that void. The void I wanted to believe my cupcakes filled, but knew they didn’t. I’d tried many times with many men.
But none of them ever fit.
And none ever looked like Max.
Maybe that was the draw. Maybe it was only that he was so gorgeous that I wanted him. Maybe it was that the last time I’d had anyone keep my interest was way too long ago.
Or maybe there was something different about Max.