The Coffee Girl

by Shanna Hatfield

  “Now that might be fun to watch.” Brenna giggled as she walked to the bags of bubble wrap and opened one. Quickly discarding her high heels near the coat rack, she started wrapping whatever Brock handed her and then helped him place the items in boxes. She tried to keep the contents of the boxes organized but the men were more interested in getting everything packed as fast as humanly possible rather than in an orderly fashion. Levi wrapped while Mike shoved items into boxes. By the time the pizza arrived, a noticeable dent had been made in the packing.

  The four of them laughed and teased as they sat around the living room eating pizza. Brenna felt comfortable around Mike and Levi, which was odd for her. She was usually reserved with strangers, especially men, but she liked the brothers immediately. They were fun and friendly and if Brock thought they were good guys, she assumed they must be.

  After finishing their dinner, Brock and Brenna took boxes to his bedroom while Mike and Levi gathered Brock’s things from the kitchen.

  Brenna admired photos of Brock’s family as she carefully wrapped and placed them in a box. She asked him questions about his grandparents and parents. Her favorite photo was of Brock with his uncle Andy, both of them covered in sawdust, holding chainsaws like warrior’s swords.

  “This is a great photo,” Brenna said with a laugh. “You two look like you had quite a day.”

  “We did.” Brock stood next to Brenna and looked over her shoulder at the photo. “Uncle Andy and I always had a lot of fun. I’m looking forward to living a little closer to him, too. I’m hoping when he and auntie return from their latest round of travel, he’ll still want to get his hands dirty with my construction business once in a while.”

  “I think it’s pretty special you and your uncle are close.” Brenna finished wrapping the last of the photographs and moved on to a shelf full of odds and ends. A few high school wrestling trophies caught her eye. It didn’t surprise Brenna that Brock was a wrestler. He had the solid build to be good at it.

  Pieces of wood, like a knot of pine, along with a few odd looking rocks drew her attention. “What are these, Brock?”

  Brock looked up from the lamp he wrapped and set it aside. He took the reddish-toned rock from her hand. “It’s petrified wood. See the grain here in the pattern?”

  Brenna bent a little closer to get a better look, following where Brock’s finger pointed. He picked up another piece and set it in her hand.

  She balanced the hard, heavy object on her palm. “How does wood petrify?”

  Brock set down the rock in his hand and selected another, shifting it from one hand to the other. “Trees fall and are covered in sediment. The sediment cuts off the oxygen and slows the decay. Groundwater containing silica seeps through the wood either replacing all the organic matter or just replacing the cell contents and spaces leaving the original structure — or tree — intact. Eventually the silica crystallizes into quartz, preserving the wood.”

  Brenna processed the information. The piece she held was a different color from the purple-hued rock on Brock’s hand. “What about the colors?”

  “The minerals in the silica water create the colors. You can get shades of yellow, red, black, blue, purple, brown, white and even pink.” Brock wrapped the piece in his hand in bubble wrap before placing it at the bottom of a sturdy box. “Leave those bigger pieces for me. They’re pretty heavy.”

  “No argument here.” Brenna grinned as she wrapped the piece she held and added it to the box.

  They packed for a few more minutes in silence. Brock studied Brenna as they worked. Her shoulders still looked tense and a frown kept pulling the corners of her smile down.

  “What’s wrong, coffee girl? You can talk to me.” Brock set a pile of books into an antique trunk.

  “I’m fine, Brock.” Brenna thought she’d done a better job of hiding her anger with Wesley. Why did that obnoxious man have to disrupt everything, even when he wasn’t around?

  Brenna knew her lingering annoyance was because she let him have too much power over her, let his opinion and his words matter to her more than they should. She really needed to learn to let things go instead of mulling them over and over in her mind.

  Although she was enjoying her time with Brock, Wesley’s tirade kept invading her thoughts, interrupting her happiness and that made her even more upset.

  “You’re not fine.” Brock took the antique toy car she was wrapping out of her hand and set it back on the shelf. Turning her toward the bed, he tugged on her hand until she sat down beside him. “If your shoulders get any tighter, they’ll be permanently attached to your ears.”

  The look she gave him held a warning of caution.

  “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Did Mike or Levi say something to upset you?” Brock rubbed her shoulders with a gentle hand that, unbeknownst to him, seared her skin through her blouse. She had abandoned her suit jacket shortly after she discarded her shoes. He liked the feel of the silky material beneath his hand and imagined it would feel like Brenna’s skin, all soft, smooth, and warm.

  “No, nothing like that. They’ve both been great.” Brenna’s deep sigh seemed to arise from her soul. “I had a little problem with Wesley this afternoon and I guess I let it get to me more than I should.”

  Brock felt his shoulders stiffen. Although he and Brenna hadn’t been dating for long, he knew she disliked her boss and was unhappy with her job. From what Brenna hadn’t said, he got the idea that Wesley often hurt her feelings and made things miserable for her at the office. “What happened?”

  Brenna stared at the hands clenched on her lap. “He got a little upset when a report wasn’t on his desk when he thought it should be and confronted me about it. The problem was that I wasn’t the one he asked for the report and didn’t know anything about it. By the time Kat and I tracked it down, it was after five. When I took it in to him, he said some rather unpleasant things that I should have ignored.”

  “What did he say, Brenna?” Brock struggled to control his urge to hunt Wesley down and punch him in the nose. He sounded like an awful person to have as a boss.

  “Just that I’m a… it’s not important, Brock. Really, I’m fine. I’ll have all weekend to get over it.” Brenna forced a cheery tone into her voice. “Let’s get back to your packing.”

  “Not quite yet.” Brock took her hands in his and studied her face. Despite her assurance she was fine, he could see something greatly bothered her. “Go on. What did he say?”

  “Brock, I’d rather not…” Brenna decided Brock would probably keep asking until he got an answer. It was in his nature to want to help others and one of the things she admired about him. “He said if it was up to him I’d be standing in the unemployment line. He called me blondie, a stupid little twit, and an incompetent idiot who managed to worm my way up to a management position. Then he ordered me out of his office.”

  A look of thunder settled on Brock’s face and he bit his tongue to refrain from telling Brenna what he thought of her boss. He pulled Brenna into his arms and gave her a comforting hug while wishing he could knock Wesley in the head a few times.

  “I’m sorry, Brenna. No one has the right to speak to you that way, especially when none of it is true. You’re smart, witty, and clever. They ought to be grateful you’ve stuck with their company as long as you have considering who you have for a boss.” Brock kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you just call them Monday and tell them you’re finished. Your friend Kathleen would pack up your office for you and you’d never have to see Wesley again.”

  As tempting as that idea was, and Brenna had thought about it herself prior to Brock’s suggestion, she wanted to leave on her own terms in her own time. Although she didn’t plan on being there much longer, she had a few projects she wanted to finish for her own sense of accomplishment.

  “No. I’m not going to let him get the best of me. When I’m ready to leave I’ll leave, but I’m not going to let him push me out or make a coward out of me.” Brenna straightened both her spine
and her resolve.

  “You’re something else, you know that?” Brock gently traced his thumb along her cheeks. “Remind me not to come visit you at your office or I might give your boss a piece of my mind or a sample of my boxing skills.”

  “Okay,” Brenna whispered, leaning into Brock’s tender touch. One minute they were hugging and the next they were lost in a kiss that chased all thoughts from her head except for the wonderful man holding her in his arms. Brock guided her down on the bed and leaned over her, continuing to kiss her with such heat and intensity she thought her tights might actually melt off her legs in a puddle of nylon and spandex on the bedroom floor.

  Her hands toyed with the hair at the back of his neck while his lips teased and taunted hers, coaxing out one passionate response after another.

  His fingers drew tempting circles across her ribs and she moaned in pleasure until a throat cleared at the door.

  Brock jerked upright and a squeal of shock escaped Brenna as she shoved away from him. She would have slid onto the floor if Brock hadn’t grabber her around the waist.

  “I can see you two are making a lot of progress,” Mike teased leaning against the doorframe. “Too bad it isn’t with the packing. Man, I told Levi we should have split you up.”

  Brenna cheeks turned a fiery shade of red while Brock cast an annoyed look over his shoulder at his friend.

  “We’ll be done in here in a minute,” Brock ground out, trying to get his bearings, still intently focused on Brenna and her alluring, soft presence on his bed.

  “I just bet you will be,” Mike said with a wicked grin as he wandered back down the hall. Brenna heard him say, “You owe me five bucks, bro. Lip-locked doesn’t even begin to describe what I found in there.”

  Mortified, Brenna blushed even more furiously and sat up. “Maybe I better go.”

  “No.” Possessively, Brock wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again, although not quite as fervently or feverishly as he had just a few minute earlier. “Although I do think we better get off this bed and back to packing. If we stay here like this much longer, I can’t be held accountable for anything that happens.”

  Brenna raised an eyebrow at him and grinned, then returned to wrapping items and packing boxes.

  Several hours later, they were exhausted but finished packing. Brenna still needed to drive home. Brock asked her to stay, offering her his room while he slept on the couch. The thought of sleeping in the bed Brock normally occupied made Brenna’s knees wobbly and her heart skittered into a frenzied beat.

  “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I’m going home.” Brenna stuffed her feet back into her shoes and slipped her arms into her suit jacket and then the coat that Brock held for her. After grabbing her purse, she shook Levi’s hand followed by Mike’s. “It was so nice to meet you both. Thank you for the pizza.”

  “It was nice to meet you, Brenna. Drive safely and drop by anytime,” Mike said then waved as Brock opened the door and walked her down the hall.

  Brock escorted her to her car and held the door as she climbed inside. He fought down the urge to kiss her a few dozen more times, but instead gave her one long, intense parting kiss.

  “Thanks for your help, coffee girl.” He twisted a golden curl around his finger, relishing the feel of the silken strand. “Keep your chin up about work and tell me if I need to go pound some sense into your boss.”

  Brenna gave him a look that let him know no pounding would be necessary. “If you call me when you’re ready to unload boxes tomorrow, I’ll come over and help you.”

  “Are you sure? I thought you already had plans for tomorrow.” Brock put off saying goodbye, wishing he could have the whole night with Brenna.

  “I have to watch the store for Mom for a few hours, but that isn’t until noon. If you want it, my morning is all yours.” Brenna placed a hand on Brock’s cheek. He gave new meaning to five o’clock shadow as the stubbly growth on his face pricked against her smooth fingers. She liked the sensation more than she would have thought possible

  “Oh, I definitely want it. I’ll call you in the morning.” Brock swooped down for one last kiss. “Drive carefully, coffee girl.”

  “I will, construction man. See you tomorrow.” Brenna blew him a kiss as she started the car and drove away.

  Brock watched her taillights until they disappeared around a corner, wondering how he was going to keep a handle on his feelings for Brenna when he lived just a few blocks from her. It had been challenging enough with them living and working an hour away from each other.

  Returning inside the apartment building, Brock took the stairs, hoping to give himself enough time to cool the incredible heat Brenna stirred in him. If he didn’t calm down, he wasn’t sure he could face Mike and Levi’s teasing without doing either of them bodily harm.

  Brenna’s phone chirped as she stacked breakfast burritos filled with cheese, eggs and sausage on a large platter. Quickly wiping her hands on her apron, she smiled when she saw the call was from Brock.

  “Hey, handsome.” After their make-out sessions the previous evening, she felt punchy and a little flirty.

  “Good morning, beautiful. Are you sure you have time to come over?” Brock sounded distracted. Brenna heard voices in the background and knew Brock’s help had arrived at the house.

  “Do you still want me to? I’ve got some snacks I can bring over along with coffee.” Brenna wrapped the last of the burritos and set two carafes of coffee into a box.

  “Yes, I still want you to come over.” Brock’s voice took on a pleading tone. “As soon as possible. The guys wouldn’t let me stop for coffee and I’m suffering major withdrawals.”

  “What were they thinking?” Brenna pretended to be astonished. “I’ll be right there. I promise. Try to hang on until I arrive with the java, otherwise it might be necessary to administer some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

  Brock chuckled and Brenna pictured the look on his face as he spoke. “I’ll try to hang on, but with an offer like that, I’m not so sure I want to.”

  Brenna laughed as she hung up the phone and finished packing a box of napkins, insulated cups and paper plates. After grabbing her car keys and purse, she hustled out the door and over to Brock’s.

  She knew where to find the house he bought, but hadn’t made the time to drive by and check it out. As she turned down the street, a moving truck, along with two pickups were parked in front of the house at the end of the cul-de-sac, drawing the attention of the neighbors, particularly the widows Hearst and Phillips, who marched toward Brock’s truck.

  “What’s all this kerfuffle about?” Brenna heard Mrs. Phillips ask Brock. She lifted the box of coffee and burritos out of the back seat of her car then watched Brock loosen a tie-down strap on the back of his pickup.

  “Good morning, lovely ladies.” Brock smiled at the widows. “Are you here to help move in boxes?”

  “Good gravy, you idi…” Mrs. Phillips spluttered, interrupted by Mrs. Hearst.

  “No, dear boy. We just wanted to see if you were in fact moving in today,” Mrs. Hearst said with her customary pleasant smile. “It certainly looks like you are and you’ve got plenty of help. Speaking of help, there’s Brenna. Hello, dear!”

  Brenna set the box on the trunk of her car and waved at the elderly women. “Good morning, Mrs. Hearst. How are you today?”

  “Fit as a fiddle, Brenna. I didn’t realize you knew our Brock.”

  She grinned at Mrs. Hearst’s referral to him as “our Brock.” Brenna walked over to where the widows stood near him.

  When she was close enough he could reach her, he pulled her against his side and kissed her cheek causing her to blush, Mrs. Hearst to twitter, and Mrs. Phillips to frown.

  “I see you do know Brock. Quite well, perhaps?” Mrs. Phillips looked down her nose at Brenna.

  “Not as well as she will tomorrow,” Brock teased, squeezing Brenna’s hand. He looked at her car and spied the carafes of coffee. “You beautiful angel, you broug
ht coffee.”

  “And food.” Brenna couldn’t ignore the heat that flamed into her cheeks at his words.

  “Well, go on, you two, and don’t mind us old ladies. We’ll check back later and see how things are progressing,” Mrs. Hearst said, patting Brenna on the arm, offering her an encouraging smile.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Hearst, Mrs. Phillips,” Brock said, turning his attention from the worrisome widows to the lovely woman next to him. Casually dropping his arm around her shoulders, he walked with her to the car where he picked up the box in one arm and escorted her up the steps of the porch. He placed the breakfast goodies on a card table, nudging aside a box of stale doughnuts one of his friends grabbed from a convenience store.

  “Something smells wonderful, Brenna. And the food smells pretty good, too.” Brock winked as he fished the insulated cups out of the box. Brenna handed him a carafe and he poured a cup of coffee, inhaling the aroma, along with a hefty whiff of Brenna’s perfume. Enchanted, he watched her set out platters of food, paper plates, and napkins.

  “You didn’t have to bring breakfast, you know,” Brock said, although he was grateful that she had. The doughnuts held no appeal, especially with hot, fresh food made by Brenna’s capable hands.

  “I know, but I wanted to.” Brenna handed him a plate with two breakfast burritos, slices of fruit, and a piece of warm banana bread. “You’ll need your strength for moving all this stuff in, won’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” Brock turned as his friends ambled their direction. “I guess it’s too late to hide this in the house and leave the doughnuts for the rest of them.”

  “That’s no way to treat your slave labor,” Mike said, reaching for a plate and grinning at Brenna. “Thanks for taking care of us, Brenna. Someone got in such a hurry this morning, he forgot about important stuff like food and coffee.”