ONE
âYou know, picturing someone naked this early in the morning isnât good for your health.â
Kelsey LeBreck leaned forward to get a better view through the kitchenâs pass-through, smirking at Nathanâs jab but not tearing her gaze away from her subject. âHush and keep flipping his eggs.â
But of course her co-worker ignored that command. âI mean, think how long youâll have to wait before you can get home to your vibrator and imagine Mr. Tall, Dark, and Loaded rocking your world. Youâre going to be so pent up and distracted, youâll screw up everyoneâs order.â
âI do that anyway.â Except his. Never his. Though, that wasnât really an accomplishment, considering he always ordered the same thing.
âYet you still get better tips than Chandra.â
âIâm charming that way.â And desperate. When that tip meant the difference between being able to pay for a tank of gas instead of riding the bus, she could channel so much sunshine and sweetness, even the grumpiest customer couldnât be mad at her for long.
âAre the muffins ready to go in yet? Darrylâs going to be here any minute and you know how he gets if shit is late.â
âWorking on it.â Kelsey blindly stirred her muffin batter as she watched Wyatt Austin adjust his glasses, fold his newspaper just so, and then spread out a stack of documents on the table in front of him. He had a way of moving that was somehow graceful and efficient all at once. Like heâd figured out the most streamlined way to do each and every thing so that he could fit the maximum amount of work into every minute of the day.
And maybe he had. God knows his schedule was more predictable than the sunrise. At six fifteen every weekday morning, he would walk in the cafe with his newspaper tucked under his arm and his own travel mug of coffee. Heâd sit at the same table in the far corner, the one that provided him both a view of the television on the wall and the least amount of glare for his laptop screen. She knew that only because sheâd finally asked him one day why he chose that booth all the time. When sheâd joked that he sat there because it was her section, heâd just offered that enigmatic smile of hisâone that had promptly made her forget the last order sheâd taken from the table before him.
âYou need to stop torturing yourself,â Nathan said from behind her, the sizzle of the griddle playing soundtrack in the background. âFrom what Iâve heard, the suit doesnât date. And heâs not gay either. Believe me, Iâd be the one serving him eggs and sausage if he were.â
She snorted and finally looked back at Nathan. âSausage? Youâre going with that one, really?â
He held his arms out to his sides and gave her a come-on-how-could-I-pass-that-up look.
âHow do you even know this stuff? And you, with the fetish for skater boys, would go after Wyatt Austin, CEO-in-training? Please.â
âI love the shit out of that strong, silent type. Theyâre usually crazy good in the sack. Like theyâre saving up all that intensity just for you.â He shrugged and turned over a row of bacon with his spatula. âAnd money never hurt anybody. Iâm not above being a kept man.â
âYouâre a top.â
âAnd so are you, baby girl. But that hasnât stopped you from your mad, passionate love affair with Mr. In Charge.â
She sighed and turned back to her batter, grabbing a ladle so she could scoop it into the muffin tins. It was a mad, passionate love affair. He was the absolute perfect boyfriend for her right now. Delicious to look at, panty-dampening to fantasize about, and completely and utterly unattainable.
Nathan set a plate next to her and slid the egg white omelet and two slices of turkey bacon onto it. âOrder up. Now, if youâre not going to give up on this crush, why donât you take this plate over there and ask the guy out?â
She spun to face him, muffin tray in her hand. âDid you forget to take your meds today? Iâm a waitress and wannabe baker. His family owns an entire company.â