Finally A Bride - Colleen Charles Page 0,2

trimmed down to the bare bones.

Catcalls echo from the crowded table by the electric fireplace. Jess and his posse were clearly born in a barn and raised by a pack of wolves, and they were all making a mockery of a little bit of spilled coffee on the floor. Jess insists that some of the spatter hit him in the groin. He gives a couple of lewd hip thrusts and demands that the woman wipe it off with a fresh napkin. The splotches of color on her high cheekbones turns from red to crimson.

Her eyelashes flutter and she inhales little pants of breath as she glances up and spots me in the corner, tucked out of the fray. As soon as she escapes Jess and his long-dormant dick, she heads over, and flips open her order pad. “I’m so sorry you had to wait, sir. What can I get for you today?”

My stomach topples over itself. “Black coffee no cream or sugar. And a couple of blueberry muffins.”

She scribbles the order with her head tucked down and I don’t get the honor of looking into that azure gaze of hers. I stare, willing her to make eye contact. After a few tortured seconds, I hit pay dirt and those pillowy lips part in a sweet smile meant only for me. “Muffins?”

I will myself not to stare. “Yes, as in two.”

In that moment, she looks at me and all the breath escapes my lungs. But she doesn’t really notice me despite my hulking six-foot four frame. She looks right through me when I want her to look at me. I usually don’t have an issue catching a woman’s eye – I’ve had my fair share over the years. But apparently this one will never be one of them. And it would have been nice to have someone to at least flirt with during the dark winter days before the bloom of spring.

After one quick glance at me, her gaze drops to her pad. I see her write ‘black and blue two’ and underline it. “I’ll be back as soon as I clean up that spill. Don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

I nod and she spins around again as if she wants to run from my presence. Despite her inclination to flee, I looked my fill before she escapes. Once the flush recedes, her porcelain skin appears silky smooth. Definitely soft enough to touch. Her voice flows like syrup, feminine and sweet. The tag on her shirt reads, ‘Angelica’ and if she’s looking for attention from a bunch of men, she’s come to the right place, although that doesn’t seem to be what this stunner wants at all.

She looks as if she wants to disappear.

Regardless, Angelica won’t find a better male to female ratio outside of Alaska. And yet, the image of looking for a provider or a protector just doesn’t fit this woman. Her stiff posture, tucked head and constant blushing says something else. She’s a mystery wrapped up in an enigma. And I’m not sure I have the desire or energy to peel back even one layer, at least not today.

I watch her take another order, careful to keep her body out of arm’s reach of any of the crass dudes in this restaurant, not looking at any of them in the eye – and then she disappears behind the tall, glass pastry case.

I roll my shoulders, mentally blocking out all the conversations and background noise and my curiosity about Angelica right along with it. She’s not my problem. I’ve got enough of them and I sure as hell don’t need another no matter how much my stirring dick begs me to push that aside. The warmth radiating from the fireplace melts some of the ice from my bones, and exhaustion starts to flow over me in waves. If my stomach wasn’t creating an obnoxious ruckus, I’d drive straight home to my trailer and fall into bed.

My rock-hard body is used to physical labor, and this snowy day isn’t any worse than hundreds of others I’ve pushed through. Then why is weariness dogging you as relentlessly as a shadow today?

I don’t know when my eyes drift closed, yet they do, because the aroma of fresh coffee and warm muffins reaches my nose. The steaming mug sits in front of me, hotter than the fire a few feet away. The gorgeous girl came and went without me noticing, but I can see her now, darting around the restaurant, serving fresh coffee