Ricky didn't bother going inside. He could see her through the long row of windows chatting with customers and being her usual friendly, warm self. She looked amazing today in her Rosie the Riveter outfit. He knew a guy in love was supposed to prefer his girl au natural, but he got a some kind of buzz out of Gia's different looks. It was like cosplay on a more normal level; instead of dressing like a favorite movie or comic book character, she dressed up like her mood. It definitely made her easier to read—Gia wasn't a game player by nature, but she was still a woman. Honestly, it didn't matter what she wore. His Georgy Girl was beautiful in ratty shorts and tees while gardening with her grandparents, in flowery dresses that showed off her long pale legs, or sleeveless tops that made him want to touch the soft skin on the inside of her arm just above her elbow. Her blue jeans and hoodie at the movies, her flannel pajamas on lazy Saturday mornings. Rockabilly Babe, Hollywood Glamour Girl, Steampunk Rebel, Boho Chick.
Biker boots and military kilts like she wore yesterday.... He should have known that she wasn't in the mood to be challenged yesterday.
His eyes narrowed when he spotted Barista Boy behind the coffee bar. Staring at Gia. Even with the morning sun reflecting off the plate glass windows, he could see the hungry look in the guy's eyes. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He should go inside and stake his claim. She wasn't on the clock yet. She could have a quick cup of coffee with him before work.
No, that would only tick her off more.
But he couldn't just sit here watching. Spying.
Why was he here? What had he hoped to accomplish this morning?
If only he'd gotten here earlier, maybe he could have caught her in the parking lot before she went in.
As he watched, Gia headed around the end of the coffee bar and struck up a conversation with Barista Boy. A moment later, she headed to the back. His relief was short-lived when Jupiter followed her not more than three minutes later, a cup of coffee—Gia's Mrs. Cullen cup—in hand.
Barista Boy was taking her coffee in the back room.
Ricky's face went so hot he thought the blood in his veins might burst through the skin. His pulse roared between his ears and his chest tightened, squeezing all the air out of him. He had to get out of there before he did something stupid again.
Resting his forehead against his knuckles, he forced his emotions under control, his lungs to expand and contract. When he no longer saw bright sparks at the periphery of his vision, he started his truck and eased out of the parking spot beside Gia's car.
"Idiot," he snarled through the tightness in his throat. For coming here yesterday, for being here this morning, for waiting, and waiting, and waiting.
Oh, he wasn't giving her up without a fight, but he needed a plan. Work was going to suck today. Big time. For once he was glad he was on tire duty at the shop today. Nothing like loud tools and heavy lifting to cool him down a little. Hopefully, he'd be working alone so he wouldn't have to play nice with anyone. He needed to think.