Gathered Up. Annabeth Albert

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СКАЧАТЬ customers. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been wondering which way he swung since the moment he came in, and the hot sizzle rushing down my arm only intensified those thoughts.

      “Thank you.” If word got back to Randy, my boss, that I was on the phone, it wouldn’t go well. “What can I get you? On the house.”

      “Do not be ridiculous.” Evren pulled out a handsome embossed wallet and slid out his debit card. “Large Americano. Extra shot. Extra sweet. And a chai for Mira, please.”

      I gently pushed the card away. “Mira drinks free. All the business owners who give us special events and customer referrals like this do. It’s how we give back to Alberta Street.”

      It was a tradition started by my old boss, Chris, and one grudgingly kept up by Randy.

      “All right. This time. Next time, I pay.” He flashed me a smile full of gleaming teeth. His lips were wide without being overly full and the perfect shade of rose—the same shade as Mira’s turban and, unlike the hat, the lips were sure to star in my private thoughts later that night.

      “Oh, you planning on making this a regular thing?”

      “We shall see, Brady. We shall see.” He looked right at my lips as he said the words before he winked. Slow and deliberate. Damn. I swear I felt the buzz of his gaze all the way down to my Vans.

      He hummed a bit to himself as he accepted the drinks and carried them over to Mira. He made sure she was settled with hers, adjusting a shawl around her shoulders. Oh, man. I was toast. The dude was the definition of masculine hotness with his thick, straight black hair, scruffy jaw, and lean build, and he was kind? And he could wrangle a room full of knitters? I wanted him back every week, and not just for the eye candy.

      Buzz. I had to pretend to get myself some coffee to sneak a peek.

      Fever down but she’s asking for you.

      While I had a chance, I grabbed a ginger soda from the cooler and shoved it in my beat-up messenger bag under the counter. Unlike Evren’s pricey number, mine was more patches than canvas at this point. Just one more way we were from different worlds. With luck, I’d have time to stop for some electrolyte drinks and broth on the way home, particularly if tips were good. If Madison was sick, Morgan and Jonas were sure to follow. I was on the skateboard, so it would have to be a small trip.

      Over at the knitting tables, a loud group laugh echoed through the coffeehouse, Evren’s deep chuckle joining in. A low ache gathered in my gut. I should be a normal twenty-three-year-old, free to mack on the hot stranger, stick around and flirt with him after closing, but instead the text had served as a reminder of why none of those things were happening in my life, even with someone as intriguing as Evren. I had three kids depending on me, a sister who should still be a kid, too, and absolutely no room for anything else.

      Chapter 2

      “Fiber and color should match your mood. Don’t underestimate the power of a cushy cotton to relax you or a sturdy wool to invigorate you. Likewise, look for spots of color, even on your darkest days.”—Evren’s Yarnings

      The third time Evren came into the shop for an Americano, extra sweet, extra shot, I had the to-go cup waiting before he got to the front of the line. It was late morning, so I wasn’t the only one on duty. Miracle of miracles, I hadn’t caught the twins’ plague and had made it through the full week. Audrey rang him up, but I waited until he was right in front of my end of the counter to put the drink up. Yes, I totally was hard up enough that I took pleasure in tiny little things like the brush of his hand against mine or the way he smiled with gratitude or how he always took the first sip before he left the shop, wincing a bit at the temperature, throat muscles working…

      Fuck. He was sexy as hell. And he always took a moment to greet me by name and ask how my day was. Same question every day, but that small courtesy was almost sexier than the rest of him put together.

      “Thank you, Brady,” he said as he grabbed that day’s drink. As usual, his eyes lingered longer than strictly necessary on my face. Man was going to give me a reason to take up shaving and hair product again. “I really should start bringing a reusable cup, yes?”

      “We sell some.” I motioned at the display near the entrance. “You could knit a cozy for it, maybe?”

      “Maybe I will.” His eyes went all thoughtful and his fingers drummed against his cup, like I’d been serious and not teasing. “Not a bad idea at all. Actually, what do you think about a cozy contest?”

      “A cozy contest?”

      “For Knit Night. I’ll put up a flyer. We’ll see how creative people can get.” Something about the way he said creative made my mind go to dirty places. But then, his voice pretty much always had that effect on me.

      “I can probably get my boss to donate a mug for the winner,” I said. Randy was a bit unpredictable, and not as caring as Chris, Randy’s ex-partner, who’d managed this location for as long as I’d been here before moving away with his new boyfriend last year. However, Randy was a keen businessman, and he’d see the value in such a promotion. “So you’re coming to more Knit Night events?”

      “Of course.” He raised an eyebrow. Even his eyebrows were refined and elegant, dark slashes with a slight upturn. “And I think a contest like this will be just what Mira needs. Something to make her smile.”

      “One of the ladies said it’s cancer?” I asked. Hell, I’d take up needles or hooks or whatever myself if I thought it would help Mira.

      He nodded. “Pancreatic. She’s started treatment, but…” He drifted off with a helpless gesture.

      Even I knew that was a largely fatal cancer. “Fuck,” I said, then remembered I was at work. “Sorry. I just mean—”

      “No, that’s exactly how I feel. Fuck.”

      “So you’ll be around a while, then?” I asked.

      “As long as it takes to get her on her feet again. Which we will do. We do not care about such things as odds,” he said firmly.

      “She’ll beat it,” I said, forcing some conviction into my words. And if I felt a slight twinge at the news that Evren’s stay might be temporary…well, such things were better ignored anyway.

      “I believe so. I had to quit my job in Brooklyn when they wouldn’t give me time off, but getting her better is more important.” He sounded a bit wistful about the job, further underscoring that he’d be moving on soon enough. “I’m a freelance knitwear designer now, so I can work just about anywhere, but my main job is going to be keeping her well and keeping the shop running until she’s ready to take it back over.”

      “Good luck,” I said, because I wasn’t really sure what else I could say…or do. On impulse, I grabbed another to-go cup. “Wait a sec. Let me make her a chai.”

      “Oh, that is so kind of you, Brady, but I just made her Turkish coffee a little while ago. Her appetite, it is not that good this week.”

      I paused with the cup still in my hand. “Wait. You made coffee. And then came over here?”

      “Good-bye, Brady. Do have a nice afternoon.” He gave me a little wave as he backed out of the shop.

      Sneaky, СКАЧАТЬ