by I. T. Lucas
She pulled out her hand from his grasp, and the loss of contact left her feeling bereft. “Please, choose any booth you like. It’s self-seating. I’ll brew you guys a fresh pot of coffee and bring it to your table once it’s ready.” She was well aware that she was talking too much and too fast, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted him to go away so she could regain her equilibrium.
“Thank you,” the other one said as Andrew just kept staring. “And if we’re already doing introductions, I’m Bhathian.” He extended a hand that was the size of her oven mitt.
“Nice to meet you, Bhathian.” This time, as she shook the hand she was offered Nathalie only felt warmth and strength at the contact. He closed his huge hand around hers very gently, even though she had no doubt it was powerful enough to crush it with minimal effort.
“Bhathian, I’ve never heard the name before. Where is it from?”
He smiled and his chest inflated with pride. “Scottish.” Bhathian exaggerated the accent. “It means ruler of army.”
She could just imagine him in a kilt and hose, leading an army of Highlanders into battle. “Very fitting, it’s perfect for you.”
His smile broadened. “My mum thought so when she named me. She said I looked exactly like my father.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Look like your father?”
“Oh…” He rubbed his hand over his neck. “I don’t know, never met the old bastard—” He slapped his forehead. “Forgive me, I forgot my manners.”
It seemed Bhathian’s embarrassed apology had shaken Andrew out from his trance, and he chuckled.
She laughed. “That’s okay, I hear much worse in here on a daily basis.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Sometimes, I even do it myself.”
Bhathian looked relieved, even happy. “That’s my gi…”—he stopped himself mid-word—“not that you are mine or anything, I just meant good for you.”
“Come on.” Andrew tugged on Bhathian’s enormous bicep, “let’s go before you put your foot in your mouth.’
The guy followed his friend. “Why the hell would I put a foot in my mouth?”
“It’s just an expression, big guy.”
Bhathian answered something, but she didn’t hear what it was. The jingling bells were announcing the arrival of new customers she had to attend to.
Chapter 11: Andrew
Fuck, he handled the situation just great. It was a sad day for Andrew Spivak when Bhathian was doing all the talking because the amazing Andrew was fumbling for words.
Damn, this was the second time in his adult life when he’d felt like a stupid teenager again. The first had been when Syssi had introduced him to Amanda. It had taken him a while to get over the impact of her preternatural beauty—Andrew had felt overwhelmed, even intimidated—but eventually he’d recovered enough to conduct a decent conversation with his sister’s stunning boss.
The second time was today.
Problem was, he was damn sure it wasn’t going to get better any time soon with Nathalie, and once she delivered their coffees he would be rendered stupid again and would have nothing interesting or flirty to say.
Not that flirting with Bhathian’s daughter was such a hot idea.
Fathers had peculiar attitudes about their grown daughters. And aggravating someone who could crush him like a bug was not smart.
“You did good,” he told the guy. “I was surprised. You’ve waited to see her for no good reason. You didn’t need me after all.”
“No, I’m glad I waited. I would have been too afraid of saying the wrong thing. I opened my mouth only because you were having trouble.”
“Sorry, I don’t know what happened to me.”
Bhathian hiked one bushy brow. “Yes, you do. I know my Nathalie is beautiful, and you’re just a human male. I understand, and it’s fine by me.”
“Really? So if I asked her out on a date, you wouldn’t mind?”
“Nope. But no hands, or I break them like twigs.” He pulled out a straw out of the dispenser and demonstrated.
Was he joking? Or was he serious? It was hard to tell with the guy. Though Andrew had to admit that he’d never seen Bhathian in a better mood. So maybe he was joking.
“What if I marry her? What then? Don’t you want to become a granddaddy?”
Bhathian grimaced, some of his good mood evaporating. “Hypothetically speaking, if you end up marrying my daughter, I will not ask questions I don’t want to hear the answers to.”
Andrew laughed. “This conversation stays between us. If anyone we know overheard us talking like a couple of teenage girls, we would become the laughing stock of the keep.”
Bhathian frowned. “I don’t get what’s funny about it.”
“For both of us, it’s our first encounter with Nathalie, and here we are discussing a wedding, if not like teenagers than like a couple of yentas. I don’t know if she even likes me.”
“She likes you.”
“How do you know? Your experience with ladies? Or assumptions about a daughter that you’ve just met.”
“Shh… she’s coming.”
Andrew clamped his mouth shut and tilted his head toward the aisle. Bhathian must have heard something with that freaky immortal hearing of his, because sitting with his back to the front he couldn’t have seen her coming out from behind the counter.
Watching her sashaying toward their table, holding a tray loaded with their coffees and a tall glass of orange juice, Andrew swallowed. The lady had booty and then some, flaring out from a tiny waist and gently tapering down into generous hips and shapely thighs. And as she walked, those fabulous assets swayed from side to side in a most enticing way.
She wasn’t wearing the apron she’d had on before, and behind the tray she was carrying, he glimpsed part of a breast stretching her black T-shirt. Clearly, Nathalie wasn’t as endowed on top as she was on the bottom. Not that it detracted from her attractiveness in any way—Andrew considered himself an ass man.
Besides, the woman was a knockout by any guy’s standards.
She stopped next to another booth first and placed the juice glass together with a napkin and a magazine in front of its lone occupant. “Here you go, Papi. I brought juice and your newspaper,” she said, her tone conveying affection.
So this is Fernando, her adoptive father.
“Thank you, my sweet Nathalie,” the older man said.
“You’re welcome.” She patted his shoulder and turned toward them, her sad smile lingering for a moment before turning bright for them.
“Two freshly-brewed coffees for Mr. Bhathian and Mr. Andrew.” She placed the cups in front of each one as she said his name, then glanced at their plates and frowned. “You guys better eat these croissants before they get cold.” She removed from the tray two individually sized creamer containers and placed them next to the cups.
“Yes, ma’am.” Andrew saluted with two fingers, then picked up one flakey croissant off his plate. The thing was still warm, and as he lifted it to his lips, Nathalie’s eyes followed his hand, staying glued to his mouth while he took a bite and chewed.
Andrew wasn’t faking his reaction when he closed his eyes and moaned. It was so good that it was decadent.
“This is amazing,” he overlooked good manners as he mumbled with a full mouth.
The satisfied look on Nathalie’s face was worth it.
“Try it.” She motioned to Bhathian, and he quickly obeyed, lifting the pastry and biting off half of it in one go.
Nathalie waited patiently until he finished chewing and swallowed, then dabbed his lips with a napkin.
Surprisingly, the brute had table manners.
“The best I’ve ever tasted,” he agreed with Andrew. “What time do you usually bake them? I plan on stopping by every day and buying a few, or a dozen, from now on.”
Sly, sly, Bhathian.
Andrew would’ve never expected the guy to come up with the perfect excuse for hanging around Nathal
ie’s shop on a daily basis. But this was so good that he jumped on it as well. “You got yourself two new loyal customers. I will be joining him.”
Nathalie couldn’t have looked happier if they had just told her that she’d won the lottery. “I’m glad. Though if you keep your promise, I’m going to have you sample some of the other pastries. These are not even my best.”
Andrew faked shock. “Noo…it can’t be…”
She laughed. “The only way to find out is to try. Do you guys live nearby?”
Okay, it was time to twist the truth a little, and Andrew signaled to Bhathian to leave it to up him. “No, but we work together on a project in the area.”
She moved the tray to her other side and propped it on her hip. “Oh, yeah? What kind of project?”
Andrew winked and leaned closer. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” he said in a whisper.
Nathalie seemed unfazed. “So I guessed right, you’re a police detective.”
Andrew pretended defeat. “What gave me away?”
“The tie and jacket…and the scars,” she added the last part hesitantly. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re very handsome, and they are barely noticeable, it’s just that they hint at a less than peaceful past.”
She thinks I’m handsome—very handsome! Yes! As he stifled the urge to pump his fist, the rest of what she’d said barely registered.
“Thank you, I’m flattered.”
She looked a little confused by his thanks. “Sure thing. Anyway, I’m open from eight in the morning till eight in the evening with an hour break from two to three. I bake most of the stuff early in the morning, so the best time to come is breakfast. Today was an exception. I was running low on everything and had to bake another batch.”
Poor Nathalie, at this rate she would work herself into an early grave.
“Breakfast it is, consider it a date.” The double entendre was intentional, and he offered his hand to seal the deal.
She smiled and shook it, sending another electric shock straight to his groin. “It’s a deal. I’m about to close, so hurry up and finish your croissants. Unless you want them to go?”
Bhathian turned to look at the display up front. “What are you going to do with those?”
“There isn’t much left, but I can’t serve it tomorrow, so it’ll go to the trash. I have a reputation of everything freshly baked.”
“Then we’ll take everything you have to go. The guys back at the office will love it.”
She looked horrified. “I don’t want you to bring these to work tomorrow—they will not be fresh anymore.”
Bhathian snorted. “Don’t worry about it. When I get it to the guys, they’ll demolish everything in under two minutes. There won’t be even a crumb left for tomorrow. We have a bunch of piranhas back there.”
She nodded. “A night shift, eh?”
Bhathian shifted in his seat. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Great, let me load whatever is left into a box for you.”
Aside from Fernando, they were the only ones there. Quickly devouring the remaining chocolate delicacies, Andrew washed them down with the rest of the coffee. When they got up to leave, she handed Bhathian the box.
“How much do we owe you for these?” Andrew asked.
She waved her hand. “Nothing, I was just going to throw them away.”
Bhathian’s face went red as he handed the box to Andrew and pulled out his wallet, placing a Benjamin on the counter. “Don’t even think to argue about this.” He pointed a finger at her when she opened her mouth to protest.
“Yes, sir.” She saluted.
Smart girl.
“Goodnight, Nathalie, we will see you tomorrow.” Andrew opened the door and waited for Bhathian, who looked like he was desperate to embrace his daughter. In the end, he just stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Goodnight, and lock the door behind us,” he said as he stepped outside.
“I will. Goodnight, guys. It was really nice to meet you. I’m glad that you stumbled upon my humble establishment.” She closed the door, and they both waited to hear the lock engage.
“That went surprisingly well,” Andrew said when they were some distance away from the café.
“Yeah. She even seemed to like me.”
Come to think of it, Nathalie reacted to Bhathian as if he was the nicest guy and not an intimidating ogre. Perhaps she’d sensed a connection between them.
But more importantly, Andrew had a feeling that she’d been just as intensely aware of him as he’d been of her.
Chapter 12: Syssi
I need to talk to you. It wasn’t late, but Syssi preferred to send a text instead of calling—just in case Amanda was busy.
After all, she and Dalhu had a lot of catch-up to do, and most of it was the kind of activity that precluded answering the phone.
A text could be easily ignored and returned later.
But she didn’t have to wait long. Amanda’s reply came almost immediately.
I can come over.
Syssi sent back an emoji of a thumbs up.
She had expected Amanda would rather meet at Kian and her place. Ever since Dalhu had turned their living room into a studio, Amanda stopped inviting people. Though come to think of it, it wasn’t entirely true. Syssi had seen Anandur and some of the other Guardians come and go out of Amanda’s penthouse, so maybe it was only her and Kian that Amanda didn’t want to entertain.
Perhaps she was afraid that Kian would make Dalhu uncomfortable.
There was something to it. Kian no longer regarded Dalhu with outward hostility, but they were far from pals.
Though in Syssi’s opinion, Amanda was making a mistake. Better to go through several uncomfortable get-togethers than perpetuate the status quo. Eventually, the men would realize that they weren’t as different from each other as they believed they were, and a tentative friendship could ensue.
It could be so nice; living as they did across from each other, it wouldn’t require much effort or planning for the four of them to spend time together, and the interaction would enrich their lives. It was less crucial for Amanda and her—they still hung out with each other and often also with Kri, Bridget, and Ingrid—but the men were terribly isolated. Neither had social interactions with people other than their mates.
Kian preferred it this way, claiming that the little off time he had he wanted to spend with her and nobody else, but it wasn’t healthy, and she intended to remedy it. From what the guys who’d attended his surprise bachelor party had told her, Kian had had a great time and even had gotten a little drunk.
Her man needed more of that.
“Knock, knock,” Amanda announced as she rapped her knuckles on the door she’d already pushed open.
“Come in. Kian is not here, so you don’t need to bother with knocking.”
“And where is your neglectful husband?”
Syssi chuckled. “Catching up on work that wasn’t done during the day because he was too busy snogging with me.”
With a pout, Amanda plopped down on the couch. “So I see you guys have oodles of fun working together.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. But first, can I offer you coffee? Or perhaps a drink?
“Coffee.”
Syssi got busy with the new automatic coffee maker, pouring fresh coffee beans into the container. From there the thing did everything by itself. It was even hooked up to the water filter, so there was no need to fill it up with water.
“How are you enjoying your Nespresso machine?” she asked Amanda.
Amanda shrugged. “It’s easy to use, which makes it perfect for me, and it makes decent coffee, but nothing compared to a commercial espresso machine.”
“Let’s see what you think about this one.”
Syssi waited for a few more seconds until the contraption finished the grinding and the thumping and the brewing and spewed the final product into two small cups.
To go with their coffees, she
grabbed from the fridge the fresh apple pie Okidu had made for dessert. There was just enough left for her and Amanda.
“Do you want ice cream with your apple pie?”
“No, I’ll pass.”
Syssi brought the loaded tray into the living room and put it down on the coffee table.
Amanda stirred a teaspoon of brown sugar into her coffee and took a sip.
“Well? What do you think?”
The grimace didn’t bode well for the new coffee maker. “It’s good, for homemade, but I miss real coffee, like what they serve at Gino’s or Café Milano.”
“Don’t you go to Gino’s for lunch anymore?”
Amanda put down her coffee and picked up the plate with the apple pie. “No, and to tell you the truth, I’m sick of eating candy bars from the vending machine for lunch.”
“So busy, eh?”
“No, just not in the mood to go out by myself.”
Syssi stirred in the sweetener and took a sip. It was good, Amanda was just finicky, that’s all. “You used to do it all the time, what happened?”
“It’s different now that I’m with Dalhu. All the attention I get from guys annoys me. I’m starting to understand why Yamanu hardly ever leaves the keep.”
Syssi snorted. “You poor, gorgeous people, life is so hard for you.”
“Well, I’m not complaining, but it’s not always fun.”
“What if I come with you to lunch at Gino’s, would that make it better?”
“Of course, it would. But I can’t expect you to drive there every day just so that I can eat a decent lunch. After all, I can have Onidu prepare something and bring it over. Though it could be fun if we can meet there for lunch at least once in a while.”
Syssi smirked. “What if I don’t have to drive there?”
Amanda arched a brow. “Skyping doesn’t count as company.”
Since when had Amanda become so dense?
“Not like that, silly. I’m trying to tell you that I’m coming back to work at the lab.”
“Really? Oh, dear Fates, thank you.” Amanda blew a kiss at the ceiling. “You’ve just made my day. Who am I kidding, you’ve just made my semester.” Amanda jumped up and down in her seat.
