I spent a good amount of time here during my senior year at CSU. Addie, Roman and I had this little tradition. Every month we would get together for the open-mic-night that was hosted here. Addie and I knew Roman from work.
For a while, I had such a big crush on him. He was handsome and enchanting and, unfortunately, totally into my best friend. Obviously that didn’t work out in my favor.
It’s a common trend when it comes to my love life.
Then again, things didn’t work out so well for him either. Addie picked the other guy. Her forever love. I wonder what Roman’s life is like now. The little girl in my arms is his niece. I can hardly believe I’m holding evidence of more than a year gone by. When I left, Daphne and Trevor were just friends. Totally and completely in love, but just friends.
When I left—Little Bird Cafe was just that. Now, it’s Little Bird Cafe. Home of Brandon’s Bakery.
Hot. Damn. Brandon.
I’m trying not to stare. I really am. I’m not interested in men these days.
I told him I remembered his face, but I don’t remember it being so distracting. Maybe it’s because I was too hung up on Roman at the time to notice. Whatever the case may be, I can't stop thinking about his smile. I don't know how he does it, but when he smiles, he looks charming and endearing, but also smolderingly handsome. When I look at him, it's like fanning through a rolodex of my favorite book boyfriends. Except he's real. I could touch him.
Shit. Don't think about touching him!
My heart shoves aside my rationale and I try and imagine what it would be like to kiss him. Or what it would feel like to have his dark, honey brown scruff scrape across my skin as his lips leave a wet trail down my neck. My Lord, that low trimmed beard he wears is totally sexy in that rugged, I'm-a-man-and-I-won't-apologize-for-it sort of way. And he most certainly is all man. All six-foot-plus of him, with a beautiful body that looks to be void of a single ounce of fat. I wonder what he would look like in nothing but that black apron he's sporting right now...
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Stop, stop, stop!
Too much smut. I've been reading too much smut!
I want the job, not the man. The job!
Remember the last time you wanted the man?
My heart flips me off, unappreciative of the reminder; but my pulse slows knowing my brain is right. I want the job. I need the job. Anything else is more than I can handle in my current state. With that in mind, I snuggle Caroline a little closer and then look back over at Brandon.
The job. I want the job. Not those warm, dark hazel eyes. The job, dammit. The job.
I clear my throat, hoping my voice won’t be dripping in lust when I go to use it. “So, when did Little Bird became Home of Brandon’s Bakery?” I manage.
“A couple months ago,” he says with a smile that can’t decide if it’s shy or proud.