Chapter One
Melody
“Excuse me, sir, I know this sounds strange, but can I buy that bagel from you?”
He was even more striking when he turned around and taller than I thought when I first saw him. He was very fit by the looks of his gray suit. Sharp, chiseled features, wavy dark brown hair, and thick brows that frowned around crystal blue eyes that reminded me of home in Hermosa Beach.
“Miss, did you ask me a question?” His husky voice broke through the crowd.
Pop’s Bagel Shop was bustling with people. It was a community institution in the Lower East Side. The smell of the old place explained why they were known for their everything bagels. You could smell the delicious crusty goodness around the corner before you saw the line to get in the door.
I cleared my throat. “Sorry, but I need your bagel. I was running late this morning, or I would have been here to grab one before they were all gone. The kabob vendor on the corner loves them. I bring him one every morning when I need to make some extra money,” I rambled.
Two sets of eyes were now staring at me. Striking gray suit guy had a friend who was as gorgeous as he was. Both looked annoyed, but their eyes showed interest, so I kept explaining.
“I busk during lunchtime to make extra money. Living in New York City is expensive, as you know.” Looking at them, maybe not. “I had my mother’s place in California, which isn’t cheap, but it helped. My roommate, Genesis, and I can barely make rent, so I sing on street corners to fill the gap.” They continued to stare without a word. “Harry, the Kabob vendor, has the best corner in Manhattan, and he loves this place. I bring them to him for his generosity. He moves his cart over so—”
Gorgeous suit number two chuckled. “I have a ten-thirty or would stay to hear how this turns out.” He turned to suit number one. “Ben, I’ll see you back at the office?”
“Yeah,” he answered, staring at me. “I’ll be in shortly, Graham.”
Suit two left as suit one continued to stare with his crystal blues.
“So, the bagel?” I hinted.
“What about it?” He waved his hand, and a large gold watch appeared out of his white starched cuffed sleeve.
“Can I buy it from you?”
“No,” he said without a hint of humor.
“Really, after all I told you, you won’t offer me your bagel?”
“Like you said, it’s my bagel, and I plan to eat it.”
He turned to the coffee condiment section as people made a path for him. I lifted my guitar case and caught up behind him. When I placed my hand on his arm, his muscles tensed—apparently, he didn’t like being touched. He pulled away.
“I really do need that bagel. Please. Rent is past due, and the money I’m making at the coffee bar isn’t enough…” I paused when he breathed out deeply. “Sorry, I can overshare. I know it’s not your problem I can’t pay my rent.”
“No, it’s not.”
Hands on my hips, I pushed forward. “I get this is New York and all, but you don’t have to be rude.”
He turned, bringing his face close to mine. I could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne.
“You’re the one who asked me to give up my breakfast because you were late.”
“I wasn’t late.”
“Yes, you were. Why should I be deprived of what I want for some other man’s needs?”
As I took a step back, wiping the sweat from my forehead, he stepped closer.
“What’s in it for me if I relent my bagel?” he asked in a low voice.
“Um... a thank you?”
His laugh was quite sinister, and the smirk on his face sexy and confident. It irritated the hell out of me.
“Kabob guy isn’t only after your bagels, trust me, young lady.”
He went back to the condiments and grabbed a few napkins and a lid.
“Harry is a family man, thank you very much.” Harry was also missing teeth and smelled like the meat he worked with. If he was single, there was no chance.
Suit looked back at me, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter if he’s married. A bird like you, he wants exactly what I would want.”
“What is that exactly?”
“To place some warm meat between your bagels.” He slowly grinned.
“Excuse me, how dare you!” I hissed.
“I’m only being honest.”
Looking around us, I wondered if anyone heard him. I stepped away from the condiments, and he followed me out the door. I stopped by the flashing OPEN neon sign and set down my case.
“I know what you were insinuating.”
“I hope you did. You may have the Marilyn Monroe thing going on, but I was sure there was more behind those big brown eyes.”
I tightened my lips together, trying not to smile at the half-assed compliment. If he wasn't such a bastard, I would have offered to buy his breakfast another day.
“Mister, please.”
“It’s Ben.”
“Ben, I’m sure you aren’t as much of an ass as you seem, but I'm serious, it’s my livelihood at stake. I can buy you another bagel, whatever they have.”
His eyes swept back and forth over mine. “It means that much to you?”
“Yes.” I blew out.
He stared for a moment, and I knew the gorgeous bastard had a heart. He lifted the bag with the bagel, pulling it out toward me with a flourish, and took a bite.
A very large bite, then hummed in satisfaction.
I stood unmoving, mute, feeling the heat of rage coursing through me. All I could do was pick up my guitar and leave before my southern upbringing went out the door.
Chapter Two
Ben
The day started horribly, but with the look on bagel girl’s face, I had to take another bite.
She had taken a page from my playbook that morning. After my blowup in the meeting, the baked good would’ve been a perfect peace offering for Gianna. I thought as much when Graham wanted to make a pit stop at Pop’s. He wanted to pick up the bagels for his family, who loved them. The everything bagel was Gianna’s favorite, and she would have forgiven me the moment she saw the bag, but like blondie said, I was a bastard.
I followed behind the blonde bombshell as she stormed away. I was hoping she would give a hint where she would be performing. She didn’t offer the location or her name in the shop.
My day kept improving when she went into another shop two blocks over. I watched through the window—like a perv—as she lifted on her toes and grabbed bagels from a basket. Her ample ass was begging to be slapped. I had been joking about the Marylyn Monroe bit, but she had her curves. Her dirty blonde hair was in a ponytail, and my palms itched, thinking about the silky strands. Those deep-set brown eyes with lashes that fanned perfectly. The first thing I noticed was her eyes before my cock had me focusing on those plump lips.
However, the moment she opened her mouth, I assumed she was a tourist. She seemed unguarded and too open, but she was only new in town.
I watched as she crossed the street and laid her guitar case against the side of a vendor’s cart. Mr. Kabob was checking out her ass while she was bent over. He would be working his way up from bagels soon enough, it looked like.