Aroused

by Clover Hart

  As he stands in front of me in his brand-spanking-new pseudo-outdoors jacket, I have to look up to make eye contact, and when I do, my tummy gives a shocking flip. He’s not male-model handsome or anything, but behind those glasses, his eyes are a piercing blue with dark lashes. His hair is sandy-colored and thick, and now I know why he’s used all that gel — to tame it. He’s got a cut jaw with a little bit of stubble, and —

  Okay. I’ve read that baboons gaze at each other when they’re courting, and I consider myself way more evolved than that.

  Even if this guy is sort of hot.

  I look down at the counter and wipe my hands on a towel, then casually ask, “Can I help you?”

  Before he answers, something my mom used to say rattles through my head. Coffee, tea, or me?

  He looks at me a moment too long, and my belly does another stupid somersault. Then he shifts his attention to the chalked menu posted on the blackboard behind me, almost as if he’s so careful about everything he does that he’s constantly double-checking. The few people in line behind him don’t seem to mind the delay, especially when my fellow barista, Tommy, reports for duty and starts to helm the other register.

  Fancy Jeans focuses on me again. “A spicy Mexican mocha and a horchata latte.”

  I pause before even ringing the order up. “Wow. The last time anyone ordered either of those, a women’s group was passing through on their way to glamp in the next county over.”

  He raises an eyebrow.

  I shrug off my own comment. “It’s not that I don’t have the goods and the ability to make those drinks, it’s just rare to hear them ordered here.”

  “Mostly by glampers.”

  “What can I say? Maybe you also have a penchant for cushy beds and French presses in your yurt instead of sucking it up and camping the cowboy way.”

  He peers down at my nametag. “Well then, Mandy, maybe you can toss in a can of Skoal with my order just to roughen it up.”

  Bam! Ten points for the nerd.

  I turn around to get two cups, and when I glance back over my shoulder at him, I find that he isn’t staring at my butt like Cal was this morning.

  Hey, why not?

  So I try a little harder, cocking my hip as I write the orders on each cup with a marker. And — ding, ding, ding!

  He’s sure looking now, and when he sees that I’ve caught him, he stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets and pretends he’s inspecting the menu again. Suck-ah!

  It’s a real possibility that I’m going to have fun with these nerds around, but that’s all it’ll be. Fun. Not a thing more.

  I glance at Abby, but she’s typing away on her keyboard. Still, there’s a little smile on her lips that makes me think she’s paying way too much attention.

  As usual.

  “So what do you have that’s sweet?” Rebel Alliance asks.

  I’m not going to say me.

  I nod to our pastry case where our infamous pies await. “This area is known for its cherries.”

  “What a surprise,” he says, “given that the town is called Cherry Valley. So how about a sour cherry muffin?”

  “You might’ve noticed that we either have pie or … pie.” I smile at him with a big old dose of vinegar disguised as honey.

  He smiles back in a kind of smartass way that makes him even hotter. Yeah, definitely hot. I’m as bewildered as anyone.

  Then he sighs. “Might as well go with the pie, then. Two slices.”

  “Excellent choice.”

  When he hands me a very fancy black credit card, I try not to do a double take. I think this is one of those fabled rich-guy cards that you only see in ads; it’s one of those things that doesn’t really seem as if it exists, like crop circles in doctored pictures online. We’ve certainly never gotten one in here, and I think the rest of Cherry Valley would say amen to that.

  Still, I play its appearance off like it’s no biggie. “How refreshing. People around here usually use cash.”

  “Where I come from, no one actually carries money.”

  Where he comes from, I suspect there are a bunch of headless cars that will soon take over the Earth like drones from the putrid butthole of Skynet.

  Wait — he lives in Skynet, and he’s about to bring it here.

  At the reminder, I get pretty quiet as I run his card through the machine then prepare his pies for him. He seems to notice my cooler attitude as I tell him that I’ll bring the drinks to his table as soon as they’re ready.

  The tip he leaves on the credit card slip makes my eyes widen, and when he walks away, I watch him go, still wondering what to make of him. A harbinger of Cherry Valley’s doom, or a real cute guy period?

  Next to me, Tommy, who has just closed out the rest of his line, leans against the counter. He’s a human scarecrow — tall, yellow-haired, lanky, and way too watchful. Kind of like Abby but with a lot more miles on him.

  “So it begins,” he says with a sparkle in his eyes.

  I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about besides the invasion of the nerds, so I only shrug once again and go about making the absurdly lux drinks Fancy Jeans ordered.

  Chapter 5

  Zach

  When I set Barry’s pie plate in front of him, he doesn’t even notice. He’s in the zone with something on his laptop, and I know better than to harsh his groove, so I sit down and unwrap the napkin from around the utensils Mandy the barista gave me.

  I spent more time in line watching her than I’d meant to. There’re just some girls you can’t take your eyes off of, and in spite of the fact that she’s not my type, I couldn’t help myself. And when I got to the counter … damn. My interest went into overdrive, heating up until I had to shut it down.

  But it wasn’t easy to do that. She’s kind of fun, this Mandy girl. She gave as good as she got — until those last few moments when her attitude cooled and she shut down on me.

  Maybe she’s just a flirt who gets sassy with everyone in line until she gets easily bored with them. Or maybe …

  Hell, I don’t know. I’m thinking too much about it, so I shuck off my field jacket, hang it on the back of my chair, then take out my phone so I can concentrate on something else, which in this case is using an app to check on my apartment back in the city. With a few swipes on my screen, I adjust the inside lighting, then access my security system to see that everything’s still locked up tight.

  My monitor shows that there’s nothing to worry about on that front, so I switch to the heating system gauge. I only wish I could switch off a few things just as easily in myself, because my mind keeps going back to Mandy the barista with her bright eyes and cheeky ’tude.

  Something makes me look up from my screen — instinct, really — and when I see her approaching with our drinks, my own personal thermostat spikes up again, temperature on ultra-hot.

  Damn, she can really wear a pair of tight jeans. But she’s got on a pair of those harness boots that Barry already despises, and they’re a little too country for me, so I picture her in some heels instead — the kind that have delicate straps around the ankles. Black, high, and hot …

  As I realize where this is going, I shake off the fantasy so I can focus on the reality of her again in those faded jeans and boots. Mandy the barista: slender but curvy in all the right places. And now I can’t stop myself from appreciating the way her breasts make the Screaming Beans logo on her shirt expand …

  I come to again, seeing that she’s waiting in front of the table, her hands full with our drinks, her toe tapping. Goddammit, and she knows where I’ve been looking.

  I shift in my chair and lean my elbows on the table, trying like hell to slow the pump of my pulse. My zipper’s starting to feel extremely tight.

  When she sighs, I come to another realization — she doesn’t have anywhere to put the cups because of our laptops and work crap. I clear some room, and she firmly sets down our drinks with a clatter — enough to make Barry look up from his screen.

  S
he practically announces our order. “One La-Dee-Dah Poser Special and one Trendy Cup of Squandered Income.”

  Barry seems slightly impressed at the mocking bomb she’s just lobbed.

  I frown, not wanting him to get too impressed with her. Then I barely acknowledge her while pulling my drink closer. “Thanks.”

  I see she’s sprinkled cayenne pepper on top of my spicy Mexican mocha, but there’s a cream smiley face on the surface of Barry’s horchata latte. Just as I’m about to get kind of irritated that she made him a picture and didn’t do anything cute with my drink, he destroys the smiley with an aggressive stir.

  Mandy only watches, then, with another I-knew-you-tech-guys-were-dicks sigh, she starts to turn around. My stomach doesn’t even have time to sink before she changes direction, turning around once again and facing us.

  “Out of curiosity,” she says with her hands on her hips, “what brings you to Cherry Valley, anyway?”

  I have a feeling she already knows, just as everybody else in this place does, but I humor her before Barry can start in. “We’re doing some recon here because we’re building a tech startup and we need a location for our headquarters.”

  She nods. “Yeah. Actually, I heard about that.”

  “Did you?”

  I’m testing her, and she sends me that little sardonic smile she kept flashing me back at the counter. A challenge. A dare of sorts.

  It does nothing to soothe the simmer I’ve still got going on.

  She nods toward a younger redhead who’s sitting at the counter with her earbuds on the bar. It’s obvious she’s trying not to listen to us, just like everyone else in this place is doing in such a strikingly obvious way.

  Mandy the barista says, “Abby Peters over there wrote a blog about you guys, so that’s how word got around.”

  “Ah, so that’s Abby.”

  Barry speaks up. “She only interviewed us over the phone.”

  For the first time since I’ve known him, he isn’t being a prick, dick, or dirk. He actually sounds capable of having a normal conversation.

  Shit, Mandy has definitely appeared on his radar, but when he looks back at me, I can’t tell what’s going through his head. He only sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over Pizza Rat.

  Mandy’s eyes are narrowed at me now. “With all due respect, Cherry Valley isn’t the place for a tech firm. Haven’t you gotten that vibe yet?”

  I see my first big chance to sell this town on Full Circle, even if Cherry Valley won’t work out in the end. No guy wants to have his game smashed before he makes a real play.

  “Tech brings things like money and fresh ideas to an area,” I say. “To be honest, Cherry Valley could use both of those. At least from what I’ve seen so far.”

  Her mouth parts slightly, as if she’s girding herself. If life were the kind of virtual, mixed, or augmented reality we deal in at Full Circle, armor would be flying out of nowhere to stick to her skin, magically transforming her into a warrior goddess with fire in her eyes.

  I hear Barry laugh slightly as he covers his mouth with his hand to wipe away his mirth. He’s laughing at me because he probably sees how fucking turned on I am.

  “Cherry Valley,” Mandy says to me, “is fine just the way it is. Its small-town roots and old-school charm make it great.”

  It seems that everyone in the room has stopped mid-sip to listen in.

  She isn’t even done. “On Friday nights, we don’t waste our time standing in line for the hottest new pop-up restaurant that’ll come and go. We get together at the high school for the football games, tailgate in the parking lot, catch up with friends. On holidays, we don’t go out of town anywhere, because we’ve got what we need here. There’re festivals where we laugh together and raise money for causes that are close to our hearts, like the roof that collapsed on Delaney Harcourt’s house last winter or coats for people who can’t afford them. We revel in our history and celebrate it, learn from it, try to improve on it. I …”

  She trails off as if she’s just now realized that she’s said too much, but most people around us are nodding, even grinning. Some are expressionless, though.

  But I’m feeling like anything but blank. Her passion makes me sit back in my chair to look at the way her cheeks have gone pink and how her eyes are glowing even more with such conviction.

  I’m beyond turned on.

  “It sounds like Cherry Valley has a lot going for it,” I finally say. “But does it have a sushi place?”

  At first she only gives me a sidelong look. “No. Ew. We’re more about real food here.”

  I shrug and pick up my fork, but Mandy hasn’t left yet.

  “Listen,” she says. “If you’ve got a hankering for sushi, my recommendation is to consult your phone and drive to Marloe, which is the nearest city. An hour’s drive at the most.”

  “It’d be well worth the drive,” I say. “I take it you’ve never tried sushi.”

  “Why would I?”

  A few people nearby titter in agreement. Across the table, Barry’s now watching me with his eyebrows furrowed, as if he can’t decide whether the barista and I are flirting or arguing.

  I’m not even sure myself.

  “You seem like the type of girl who likes to try new things,” I say. “Maybe one day you’ll put something dangerously big-town like sushi on your agenda.”

  To close things out, I take a bite of that pie, and when the cherry flavor explodes in my mouth — tart, sweet — I pause.

  Mandy has a triumphant look on her face. That’s why we don’t need sushi around here, she seems to be thinking. We’ve already got taste.

  She begins to leave, but I don’t want her to go just yet.

  “Hey,” I say.

  She stops, then peers over her shoulder.

  “I’m Zach Hamilton, by the way.”

  She turns to me a little more, crossing her arms over her chest. “Mandy Burnett.”

  “Well, Mandy Burnett.” I grin. “It’s a pleasure to be insulted by you.”

  We look at each other for the next few loaded seconds, and my gut goes tight again, beating, hammering.

  I’ve got her name, and I’d like to get a hell of a lot more, but Barry clears his throat, breaking the moment.

  Oh, yeah. I should probably introduce him, too.

  I jerk my chin toward him. “That’s Barry Aaronson, the other half of Full Circle.”

  He gives a little wave.

  Yet she’s already on her way.

  As she leaves us, I realize there was something in her gaze I couldn’t read very well. I think it’s wariness. She still has that armor on, and God help me, but I think I’m going to fantasize the rest of the day about it coming off, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but what’s underneath.

  Chapter 6

  Mandy

  I walk away from the Full Circle table, shaking my head. Behind me, I hear the customers coming to life again. It’s as if everyone momentarily turned into deer who froze in the headlights of that bizarre exchange I just had with Fancy Jeans, and now they’re scrambling in the aftermath.

  Fancy Jeans.

  Maybe I should start thinking of him as Zach now that I actually know his name.

  As I join Tommy behind the counter, I indulge myself in la-la land for one hot second. I like the name Zach. It’s just normal enough to be cool; it could belong to someone who’s quick-witted and cute, and it’s not pretentious like a lot of the names from a nutty state like California.

  Coming from a place like that, he could’ve been a Rocket or an Apple or Muffin, but he’s just Zach.

  Too bad the perfect name belongs to a hipster Bay Area tech nerd whose company will never belong in Cherry Valley.

  As I grab a towel to clean off some abandoned tables, I try not to think about how Zach might right now be watching me just as intensely as he was earlier when he was checking out my … er … jeans. I think he was even admiring my … shirt.

  And I loved every seco
nd of it.

  Heck, I can’t even bring myself to be offended by the blatant interest. He is boy, I am girl, and there’s something inside me that’s preening and warm, something primal that I’m getting a little high off of.

  Still, by the time I finish with the tables, I know nothing is going to come of whatever happened between us. I don’t know if we were bantering, sparking, or only insulting one another just like Zach said, but I know how this will end up.

  A few years ago I sang that song, drove that road, lit that fire, and it was with a long-term tourist who came and went from Cherry Valley. I really don’t need a disappointing repeat performance from another temporary Romeo. And I sure don’t need a witty dude to talk me into anything, just like Zach was trying to talk me into believing there are benefits to having Full Circle Technologies in Cherry Valley.

  I’ve had my share of sweet-talking.

  With my rag in hand, I go over to where Abby is still sitting … or not sitting. She’s out of her chair and holding her phone, her notebook app running on the screen as if she’s ready to record her impressions during an interview.

  “Thanks for warming them up, Mandy,” she says. “Now I have about fifty more questions I want to ask Zach and Barry about Full Circle after I formally introduce myself. Listening to what you had to say gave me some ideas.”

  Fingers of adrenaline spread through my chest as I picture the adorable journalist wunderkind going over to Zach’s table. Is he as much of a flirt as I think he is, and is he going to hit on her?

  Is he that kind of guy?

  Ugh. Who even cares? I’m not invested in what he does.

  “Have fun,” I say, patting Abby on the shoulder and making my way behind the counter.

  I try so hard not to watch her thread through the tables on her way to that one. But there I am, an increasingly territorial creature who’s tracking Abby out of the corner of my eye as she shakes Barry’s hand, then Zach’s.

  Oh, great. Are they holding on to each other for way too long? I think they are.