The Perfect Indulgence. Isabel Sharpe
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She refused to care whether Zac liked the new look or not. In fact, she’d let him think it was permanent.
“Nice,” spoken with no enthusiasm, still studying her. “Something else has changed about—”
“What can I get you?” She wanted to remind him that their relationship was customer and barista, and he had no place giving opinions on her appearance.
No, wait. He did. He had that right, and she accepted it.
Oh, man. She needed to get back to her cliff.
“How about a tall French roast and...” His blue gaze faltered, then focused on her with renewed intensity, unsettling her further. “And the chance to spend time catching up with you.”
Chris blinked. Blinked again. She should be taking cleansing and healing breaths right now.
She wasn’t breathing at all.
Was Zac asking her out? No, no, he couldn’t be. He hadn’t mentioned a place or event. He just wanted to find out what she’d been doing while he was gone. Probably just being polite.
“Well.” She turned away to pour his coffee, finding it much easier not to look at him. “It’s not busy here now. We can talk.”
He didn’t answer. Chris turned back, holding out his mug. His eyes pinned her. She felt as if she’d suddenly started moving in slow motion. “Actually, Chris, I meant I’d like to have dinner sometime.”
Dinner sometime?
“I...we...you...”
He chuckled—of course he did, her discomfort always amused him, the rat—and took the coffee out of her hands. “Think about it.”
Chris stepped back, inhaled long and slow through her nose, blew out the tension between her lips, and relaxed her tongue and her shoulders as she’d learned to do. She was free to accept or reject his offer. She had power in this situation. And if he’d get the hell away from her, she could take some time to examine her feelings before she answered, as she’d also learned to do. “Thank you. That’s a very nice invitation.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Something’s different about you. Besides the hair.”
“Yes.” She did not owe him an explanation.
“Okay, then.” He shot her a grin and started toward his usual table, leaving Chris hopelessly trying to get her Zen back.
The door banged open, making her jump and Zac turn. A young, slightly familiar-looking man walked in. Chris glanced at Zac and then back. Was this his younger brother? He was darker than Zac, one eyebrow pierced with a silver ring, slender where Zac was built, light and quick in contrast to Zac’s powerful, deliberate movements, but there was some resemblance.
“So this is Slow Pour.” The newcomer made the announcement as if he was narrating a movie starring himself. A few patrons paused in midconversation to see who had interrupted the café’s peaceful vibe.
Zac suddenly looked wary and tired. Chris felt a pang of sympathy for him. Whatever trouble this kid had gotten into, it had been hard on his older brother.
The kid who must be Luke ambled toward her, eyes alight with mischief and energy. “And you are therefore Chris.”
“That’s me.” She spoke quietly, not sure what Zac had told him, or what role she’d be assigned in the Luke Arnette show.
“Zac, man, you didn’t tell me she was totally gorgeous.”
Chris suppressed a groan. Luke might look like his brother, but so far he was behaving exactly the opposite. Point in Zac’s favor.
“Didn’t I?” Zac shrugged mildly. “Guess I forgot.”
“Can I get you some coffee? Tea? Suja Juice?” Chris stretched tall, centering herself, trying to radiate kindness and acceptance, and coming up with an attitude closer to dismay. Darn it. She’d thought she was more thoroughly grounded in her new self. Obviously she still had work to do. “Or would you like something else?”
“How about a date?”
Argh, she’d walked right into that one. “How about coffee?”
“You want to have coffee with me? That’d be okay.” He winked at her. Winked! “Though I was hoping for dinner sometime.”
Gee, where had she just heard that phrase?
“Luke, dude, back off.” Zac shook his head.
“What, am I poaching on your turf?”
Zac’s snorted. “Poaching on my turf? Who says things like that?”
Luke’s arrogance dropped as though it had been shattered with a hammer. “Gimme a break, man. This isn’t my world.”
“So? Just be your own effed-up and charming self.” Zac smacked Luke’s shoulder, grinning wryly. “You’ll get a lot further with the babes that way.”
Chris snorted. “Further with the babes? Who says things like that?”
Zac jerked his thumb. “He does.”
“Let me check this out with Chris.” Luke stepped forward, leaning against the counter, his blue eyes so like Zac’s that Chris had to force herself not to drop her gaze. “Would you like me better if I wasn’t trying so hard?”
“Yes. But only about a thousand percent.”
“Okay.” He opened those eyes puppy wide, his voice rising a few notches. “Will you go out with me? I’ll admit I have an arrest record. I beat someone up. He deserved it, though.”
“Why don’t you start by ordering something?”
“Sure.” He scanned the menu written on the surfboard hanging over her head. His lashes were long and dark, eyes shadowed. Some of his mania must be coming from fear and insecurity. She would cut him a break and be kind, though frankly, she wished both Arnette brothers would get out of her store. Life had been so peaceful without Zac around. Though she supposed it was good to realize how far she still had to go before she could confidently return to New York. Her transformation wasn’t worth much if she fell back into her old ways every time something stressful happened.
Luke ordered a mocha latte, which she made with whole milk, and she added a free oatmeal flaxseed raisin cookie to welcome him to Carmia, because he looked as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks. He and Zac took their coffees over to Zac’s regular table while Chris tried to get back to a state of calm, which proved futile because there was a constant buzz inside her, reminding her of Zac’s looming presence.
She