I burst out in piggy snorts, but try to smother them when the person in line in front of me peeks over his shoulder.
“Mom,” I try to smooth the laughter out of my voice. “I think perhaps you’re holding on to a little emotional baggage. It would be healthy for you to talk to someone about it, perhaps offload the burden.”
“Yeah,” she scoffs. “I’m talking to you, and I offloaded you to college. That’s a win-win for me, honey. Now seriously, I have to go. Ted is going to get mad if I’m late to my nine o’clock again.”
I stop for a moment, frown, then check the clock on the wall. “Mom, it’s ten past already.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” she laughs. “I have to go. Have fun today, then call me tonight and let me know how it went. Don’t get pregnant.”
“You have issues.” I shake my head and take a step forward when the line moves. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, honey. Love you.”
“Yeah, bye. I love you.”
I bring the phone away from my ear and hang up, but when a shadow falls over me and the temperature changes – I swear the temperature drops by a few degrees – I glance up to find a guy who stands much too tall for me.
He grins, studies my eyes for a moment, then he nods. “I love you too. I don’t usually jump this fast, but sometimes the stars align, and bam. It’s all over.”
He’s cute. Hell, he’s sexy. But he’s also playing me.
He comes complete with broad shoulders, thick chest, and arms that might each be wider than my thighs. Five o’clock shadow, twinkling eyes, and a heavy brow shadowed under a dark ball cap.
He’s everything I try to stay away from in a man – because if he’s prettier than me, then it’s gonna become an issue when he takes longer than I do to get ready to go out.
“So?” he asks. “My place, or yours?”
I look around the small bakery, the fridges, the pie warmer. I look at the guy in line in front of me, then I look back, and find a woman behind me.
Smiling.
I look back to the guy who may have a mental imbalance, only to ask, “Excuse me?”
“You said you love me.” He looks to the woman behind me, as though seeking corroboration. “I said I love you back. I’m not saying it won’t end bad, seeing as we only just met, but we gotta get started first, right?”
“You’re strange.” I step forward as the line moves. I’ll be damned if I let the guy in front leave me here all alone. “I was talking to my mother, so…” I make a clicking noise with my tongue. “You can just go. We’re cool.”
“So, wait.” This guy has a square jaw, sparkling green eyes, and a slight bend in the bridge of his nose that draws my interest. Someone hit him.
Unsurprisingly, I can’t find it in my heart to be shocked.
He lifts his hands in surrender, and shows off a coffee in one, a paper bag in the other. “You’re seriously just gonna take back the I love yous we so lovingly exchanged? You have no care for my heart?”
“No.” I flatten my lips and reaffirm my grip on my handbag. “I don’t care about your feelings, strange man from the bakery I’ve never met before. And yes, I think I am gonna take my words back. I don’t make a habit of voicing such declarations to men I don’t know. Or, well, to any men, ever. I’m actually kind of late for work, so I’d be happy to just wait in line, get my coffee, then I’ll be out of the way, and you’ll never have to think of me again. So…” I look toward the door in expectation. “You can go.”
“Well, seeing as you’re gonna be in line for about three minutes more…” He turns, faces the counter, and stops so his shoulder touches mine. “I’ll wait with you. My name’s Luke.” He juggles his treats and squishes the pastry bag between his side and his disproportionately large bicep. “And you are?”
“Busy. Uninterested. Trying to get a little quiet before my first day at work.”
“Oh. First day?” He drops his hand and nods. “Cool. What do you do?”
I think of the photos I saw in the shop next door. The beautiful canvases.
“I work in photography.”
“No you don’t.”
Stunned, I turn and glare at the side of Luke’s smug face. “What?”
“You’re not in photography. Try again.”
“Why the hell do you think you get to tell me I’m wrong?”
“Because you can’t lie. You paused before answering, you have a tell, and now I know it, so you’ll never be able to tell a lie again.”
“I work in aged care.”
“No.”
I scowl and take another step forward. I’m imposing on the next guy’s space, but there’s at least twenty-five percent of me that is afraid of Luke.
“I’m a bank teller.”
“Nope.”
“Therapist.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Massage therapist.”
He scoffs. “Only in my wildest dreams. What’s your name?”
“Montana.”
He snickers and brings his coffee up to sip. “You’re not even trying.”
“Cora.”
“Lord, I hope not. I’m scarred by that name.”
I lift a brow and file that away for… never. Because I’m never going to see this guy again. “Ellie.”
“No. You don’t use a shortened name. Whoever you are, you use all of it.”
Incorrect.
“Are you Lucas?”
“Nope. My dad has an unhealthy obsession with Luke Skywalker. I’m just Luke.”
“What’s your dad’s name?”
Why do I care?
“Jon.” He smiles and looks down so I get the full force of his smug grin. “Simple names ‘round here. What’s your dad’s name?”
“Supreme Court Justice Alfred-in-charge-of-domestic-abuse-and-divorces.”
“Wow.” He bursts out in snorting laughter. “His mother sure hated him. Does he use ‘Fred’ for short?”
“No. But he specializes in making sure his daughter is safe, and seeing as how you’re yet to take no for an answer, add in your jacked-up arms, and I think that perhaps he won’t approve of you and your declarations of love.”
“Geez. Way to stereotype. I’ll have you know that I work really hard every single day to get past my ‘roid rage. It’s not easy being me. My momma beat me a lot…” He pauses before adding, “last week.”
“Sounds like a hard life.” I step forward when the guy in front finishes his order and moves aside. “Hi, can I get an iced coffee with whipped cream on top?”
“Fancy girl doesn’t want the regular coffee, Darcy.” Luke tsks and smiles for the girl behind the counter. “Make sure you hold your head high while making that one. I doubt Miss Montana will accept anything less.”
“Hi, Darcy.” I lean against the counter and smile for the woman who looks perhaps a year or two younger than me. “Has he ever told you he loves you?”
She looks from me, to Luke, back and forth for a moment. Only to settle on a nod. “Yeah, he told me he loves me.”