L.O.V.E.

by Krissy Daniels

  Holding back my ire made my stomach ache, so I excused myself to the ladies room rather than unleash a lifetime of stored retorts at the beaming bride-to-be.

  Lacey shot me an apologetic grin.

  On rubbery legs, I made my way through the tables, my confidence flaking away, layer by layer. The hallway leading to the restrooms seemed to expand with every step. When I rounded the corner, I stopped dead, feet cemented, heart racing.

  In my path stood a man. Not just any man. Him. The guy.

  Wearing dark gray slacks, a dark blue dress shirt rolled at the sleeves, tie loose, he leaned against the wall. His coat was draped over his left arm. He held his phone in his right hand. No ring, thank God. Head down. Attention on his cell.

  Beautiful. Painfully handsome.

  My pulse spiked, the roar between my ears so loud I feared the entire city would feel the tremors. The ladies’ room was just out of reach, so close, yet a million miles away. If I moved, would he see me? Would he recognize me?

  Of course, he would. I was the crazy woman who had kissed him on the street. Who’d barreled into him on the sidewalk. Who had unleashed her insane ex-boyfriend on him twice.

  Why couldn’t I move?

  I was on a date, for crying out loud.

  Forcing one foot in front of the other, careful not to click my heels, I pressed my palm on the door and braved one more glance. Thank the good Lord, he still stared at the phone. He raised a hand, raking his fingers through his hair and, dear sweet gods of holy, heavenly, lustful bliss, my entire body flushed with heat and prickly tingles.

  I paused, only for a breath, but a moment long enough for the man to lift his eyes to mine. All at once, my lungs ceased to expand, my world spun at a nauseating pace, and I wanted so, so much not to be on a date.

  On a raspy exhale he said, “You.”

  My knees buckled at the thick, raw, sensual tone.

  I couldn’t stop my grin. Mesmerized, lost in those eyes, I leaned against the doorjamb and whispered, “You.”

  He pushed off the wall, stood straight, and shoved his cell into his pocket, shoulders rolling forward like he bore the weight of the world, indecision flickering behind his heady gaze.

  A tortured man if ever I’d seen one.

  I wanted to jump into his arms. Talk to him. Touch, breathe, know him. Kiss that face. Make him laugh. Watch him cry. Bring him to his knees.

  What was wrong with me? I was on a date.

  Mean for mean.

  But God, the way he looked at me.

  A laugh carried down the hall, making me jump, tearing me from my fantasy, reverie, whatever the hell had me spellbound.

  Before doing something foolish, I ducked into the ladies’ room.

  I made my way back to the table, determined not to let Victoria or that sexy stranger ruin my evening with the very handsome redhead. Eyes on the prize.

  My cheeks heated at the way Martin’s face lit up when I approached. He stood. Pulled out my chair. Waited for me to sit, then pulled his own seat closer. He smelled good, expensive cologne applied in a modest dose.

  “Nats, you okay?” Lacey whispered in my ear. “You’re red as a beet.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, just hot.” I reached for my water glass and took a dainty sip when I really wanted to chug.

  The weight of Victoria’s stare bore through me, a dull knife sinking straight into my temporal lobe.

  Martin cleared his throat. “We ordered a bottle of Barolo. Lacey said it was your favorite.”

  To which I replied, “We might need two bottles. Lacey and I can empty one in five minutes.”

  Everyone laughed. Martin had a nice laugh.

  “Where’s Cole?” Lacey asked.

  “He got stuck with a client,” Victoria answered, drawing her finger up and down the stem of her wine glass. “Should be here any minute. Said we can start without him.”

  The next twenty minutes passed with polite conversation. I learned that Ellis had considered being a medical doctor but instead became a pharmacist because he wasn’t too keen on blood and gore. Martin was a pilot for a global distribution company. Victoria had spent the past three years on the East Coast, where she met her fiancé at a fundraiser for at-risk youth. He was a business owner and real estate developer who had recently returned to Seattle to be near his family and to open a gym as well as a women’s shelter in honor of his late sister. He sounded like a good man. Victoria sounded head over heels in love.

  “So the three of you grew up together?” Lacey asked, gesturing between Ellis, Martin, and the empty chair next to Victoria.

  “Yeah.” Martin nodded. “Grew up on the island.”

  “The island?” I asked, knowing damn well what he meant, despite the multiple islands surrounding the area.

  “Mercer Island,” Ellis stated.

  “So you were a group of rich, entitled kids.” Lacey winked at me. Neither of us had ever wanted for anything, but growing up, there’d always been a clear divide between the middle class and the upper class. More notably, the upper-upper class, those who grew up on the Eastside, which included “the island,” a chunk of land that sat smack-dab in the middle of Lake Washington between Seattle and Bellevue.

  Victoria snorted at the jab, then covered her mouth, trying to hide her laugh, throwing me off guard. The woman I’d labeled “monster” almost seemed human. Maybe even likable.

  She’d always been pretty. One of the prettiest girls in school. She was no longer simply pleasing to look at. Victoria was downright gorgeous, and dare I say, glowing?

  Ugh.

  “We were not spoiled rich kids, if that’s what you think.” Ellis gave Lacey’s neck a squeeze.

  “Yes, we were,” Martin threw in, shooting me a wink.

  “Okay, fine. We were,” Ellis conceded.

  I studied Lacey studying Ellis. She was a goner. And she, too, glowed. I wondered if a man would ever make me glow. Then I thought about the man in the hallway. I’d gone nuclear in his presence.

  Then, as if I’d conjured him with my lustful musings, he came around the corner, tall and confident, and walking with a lithe grace that was both feral and beautiful all at once.

  As he strode straight toward me, I imagined him to be Richard Gere in his Navy duds, and he was coming to scoop me up and carry me off, and we would live happily ever after in his bed for the rest of eternity.

  Only, he hadn’t noticed me. He wasn’t giving me the look. Although his expression was warm and endearing, that gaze was not focused on me. Nope. Those thick-lashed beauties were aimed at Victoria.

  Of course.

  Mean for mean.

  He strode to her side, placed a hand at her back, and bent low, his gaze flickering to me, then back to her before dropping a slow, chaste kiss to her lips.

  “Cole,” Martin said, pushing to stand. “You made it.”

  Cole. My dream man had a name.

  The men exchanged a quick embrace.

  Martin placed his hand on my shoulder, like he had the right, his fingers grazing the skin beneath my collar. “Cole. This is Natalie, my beautiful date for the evening.”

  Cole stood taller. Met my eyes with little-to-no interest, then offered his hand. “Pleasure.”

  Then Ellis chimed, “Funny thing, bud. Apparently, Natalie, Lacey, and Victoria went to school together.”

  “That so?” he asked his bride-to-be while settling into the empty chair and claiming her hand on top of the table.

  Martin’s fingers dusted my collarbone, lingering past the point of comfortable, souring the wine in my stomach.

  Envy had no place in that room, and I hated myself for wanting to jump across the table and stab Victoria with my fork.

  Victoria was the reason he hadn’t kissed me back that day. Victoria was the reason he shared a table with me. Victoria was the reason I wanted to slink away into a dark corner and cry for a thousand years.

  I’d be damned before I ever let her know she’d shaken me again. My body trembled with th
e vile poison filling my soul. Swallowing the bitter taste on my tongue, I turned my attention to my date where it belonged.

  As far as I was concerned, Cole and Victoria no longer existed.

  My office door opened with an ominous, slow creak.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Gabriella, my coworker, apologized from behind a bouquet of flowers that seemed to float off the ground, so large I could barely see her black heels, tan legs, and wobbly ankles beneath. The scene would’ve been funny if not so creepy.

  “What the actual fuck?” said Morgan, my favorite, and might I add, gorgeous and feisty client, her head tilting at an odd angle. She owned a chain of “bikini” coffee stands and had recently decided to expand into other business ventures.

  The imposing display started to topple. Morgan and I shot forward, arms out, hands grasping, trying to find purchase, something solid to steady the tumbling flow of sunflowers, mums, gold poms, and orange roses.

  We only made the situation worse, startling poor Gabriella. She screamed. I cussed. Morgan laughed. The bouquet fell to the floor, a morbid, though sweet smelling, pile of pick-up sticks.

  Dropping to a squat, I rubbed my aching temples. “What am I going to do about him?” I studied the hodgepodge selection.

  “File a restraining order.” Gabriella pulled a rose out of the pile and brought the petals to her nose.

  Morgan grabbed my elbow and helped me stand, giving me a motherly glare. “Ditto. Do it now. Don’t wait another second. He needs to stop.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded like a maniac, gnawing my thumbnail. “Didn’t want to, but he’s leaving me no choice.”

  Digging for my phone, I heard, “Nats! Baby! Fuck. Let go of me. Goddammit!”

  Glass shattered. Grunts, smacks, and profanities followed.

  My face heated. Head pounded. I peeked my head out the door, but Timothy, our astute head of security, ordered me to stay in my office. Like a cliché movie scene come to life, four—yes, four—men dragged Holden out the front entrance.

  “Nats! I love you. Give me another chance. Please,” echoed through the building and most likely down the block in every direction.

  “Oh, honey.” Gabriella pulled me into a tight embrace that I savored for a good thirty seconds before letting go to clean up the mess on my floor.

  I could no longer tame the shake in my hands. Besides giving me gray hairs thirty years too early, that psycho was going to get me fired.

  “You sure you don’t need a few days off? I’ve got air miles I’ll never use. Take a mini vacay. Get away from that nutjob for a while.”

  “What? And give up all this attention?” I joked, feeling not one lick of humor. “I can’t. I have a date tomorrow.”

  “With that ginger hottie you told me about?” Morgan asked, gathering her coat and briefcase.

  “Yes,” I mumbled. I should have felt tingles at the thought of my date with Martin. Instead, I rubbed my temples.

  Janet, my boss, came through the door, her suit impeccable, her smile sincere. “You okay?”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry about the disruption.”

  “We’ll meet with HR tomorrow. Talk about steps we can take to keep him from coming back. Take the rest of the afternoon off.”

  “I’m fine.” I waved her off. “Besides, I’ve got two more meetings today.” Holden was not going to ruin my day, or my numbers for the month.

  Janet studied me before nodding. “Okay. If you’re sure.” With an approving smile, she headed down the hall.

  I made quick work of the mess, swallowed a cocktail of pain relievers with lukewarm coffee, then collected my scattered nerves and landed two new clients for the bank, wooing them with numbers far more alluring than our competitors.

  The pink-haired barista slid the Pumpkin Spice Latte across the counter with a pretty smile and a syrupy sweet, “Enjoy.”

  I shoved five bills into the tip jar because I liked her hair, and the world needed generous tippers.

  I also felt extra spectacular because my last date with Martin had gone well. The man was pretty to look at. Polite. Respectful. We had shared great conversation over drinks at a fancy bar downtown, a romantic but chilly walk along the pier, a ride on The Seattle Great Wheel, where Martin held me close, then a hot kiss at my front door. And much to my surprise, he hadn’t tried to get in my pants.

  Also, I hadn’t seen Holden since he’d been dragged away from the bank. Of course, I’d taken to sneaking out the back exit of my apartment building, and instead of walking the five blocks to work, took a new route, cutting through one smelly alley and extending my trek by two blocks, which was how I discovered the Mocha Maven.

  I found a seat by the window, pulled out my cell, and dove in to my never-ending list of emails.

  Sure, I was off the clock, but I liked knowing what to expect before I made it to the office.

  My third email was from Janet, who wanted to see me the moment I arrived. “Aww fuck. This can’t be good,” I mumbled to myself. If Holden’s shenanigans had gotten me fired, he was a dead man. I’d worked too damn hard for my spot on the corporate accounts team.

  A deep chuckle came over my shoulder and I knew, like I’d heard that glorious sound a million times before, Cole was standing at my rear. Tingles on my skin. Flutters in my belly. Erratic thunk, thunk, ker-thunk behind my breastbone. My body had never reacted that way to anyone.

  Not one single soul. Ever.

  Victoria was a lucky bitch.

  Of course, knowing Victoria the way I knew Victoria, luck had nothing to do with her engagement to a man like Cole.

  “Everything okay?” His voice washed over me like warm syrup, thick and coating every inch of me in sweet rapture.

  “Hey, dude. How are ya?”

  Dude? Oh, God. I sucked at faking apathetic.

  Cole made himself comfortable in the seat across from mine. And, holy wow, did he fill that seat out well. Thick chest and wide shoulders. His mauve dress shirt complemented his complexion. An Armani model fresh off the page, an arm’s reach away. No. No. No. I would not ogle.

  Dreamy eyes locked on mine, and my tingles turned to full-blown lusty shivers. Yes. He was that beautiful.

  His jaw tensed, but his gaze didn’t falter, and damn, damn, damn, why did he have to look at me that way?

  “What?” I asked, hypnotized.

  “What, what?” He smirked.

  “You’re staring. Do I have something on my face?”

  Cole blinked, crinkled a napkin, laughed, shook his head. “Sorry. Um.” He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. “There’s just something about you.”

  Well. He wasn’t one for bullshit. Respect.

  “Sorry.” He shook his head. “God. You must think I’m a creep.”

  No. He was the opposite of creep. If there were any creeping, it came from me. I closed my emails but opened my camera, waiting for the right moment. No denying, I wanted that man. To my bones, I ached with lust. And though it was wrong, and weird, I needed to capture the moment.

  No bueno. Lacey’s voice played in my head. I ignored her of course.

  “Nothing creepy about you.” I lifted my phone and took a shot, saying, “And believe me, I know creeps.”

  Eyes wide, he looked at my phone, then me, but much to his credit, didn’t question. “About that.” Again with the smirk and, oh my effin’ jeez, those dimples.

  “That being my crazy ex who attacked you for no reason?” I tried to make light of my predicament for fear of bursting into tears of shame.

  One brow raised, he asked, “And chasing you down a busy street?”

  “I was late for work.” I slid my phone back into the pocket of my Fendi Tote, a graduation gift from my uncle that I broke out only in the fall and guarded with my life.

  “You were running from a stalker,” he practically growled, his fist tightening around that innocent napkin.

  “Okay. Fine. I suppose I was.”

  He nodded, seemingly pleased with my honesty. “So, wha
t are you doing in my coffee shop?”

  “Oh. This is your place?”

  “Not really. I own the building. They rent the space. But I do stop by once a day. Never seen you in here before.” His lips were so pretty. And that chin cleft? I had no defense.

  “Been taking the long way to work. Stumbled upon this little gem a couple days ago. Now, I’m hooked.”

  “Why?”

  I lifted my warm cup off the table. “Because this is the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

  “No.” He chuckled, killing me with that grin. “Why take the long way to work?”

  “My ex has been a little overzealous with his apology.” I slumped in my chair, the weight of the conversation exhausting. “And he wants me back.”

  “Can’t say I blame him,” he mumbled, then huffed.

  My cheeks throbbed.

  “Sorry. Not hitting on you. Promise.” He raised his hands in surrender, then sat back, mimicking my pose. “What do you mean by overzealous?”

  “There’s too much to tell, honestly. Let’s just say, I’ve taken to sneaking out the back door of my building.”

  Cole sat straighter, long fingers curling around his paper mug. “Are you in danger?”

  “Oh, no. From that doof? Please. He would never hurt me.”

  “You sure about that? He tried to kill me because I looked at you. You ask me, that’s a man to be wary of.”

  One thing I knew for certain about Holden was he’d never hurt a woman. Not physically. But one thing I suspected about Cole was he wouldn’t fall for any bullshit. I wasn’t in the mood to argue, so I conceded. “I know. You’re right. Security had to drag him out of our building last week.”

  Cole’s eyes narrowed. “He’s escalating.”

  That icy glare was unexpected. As was the tick in his jaw. My jumbled brain didn’t know how to process his reaction.

  “Can we change the subject?”

  He stared at me. Correction. He stared into my soul, like he could read my past, present, and future.

  “It’s a gorgeous morning. I don’t want it tarnished with reminders of my latest bad mistake.”