Damn alarm clock!
“You okay, freckles?” he asks in his deep, masculine voice.
“I-I’m so sorry,” I manage to squeak the words. Why am I suddenly nervous around him? This is Landon, and I’m not trying to impress him. Not really, but I’d still like to be presentable.
“Happens all the time.” He smirks.
I’m sure it does. His eyes alone are enough to have panties dropping everywhere, add in his thick, dark locks, and his body, and it’s obvious he’s not just being a conceited jerk; he’s speaking the truth. “I should have been paying attention,” I say when I realize he’s still looking at me.
“It’s all good.” He nods. His eyes are doing another lazy stroll of my body, making me feel self-conscious.
“I woke up late. It’s been one of those mornings.” I laugh humorlessly. You know what I’m talking about, those laughs that make everyone within earshot uncomfortable. Yeah, that’s me. Fuck my life.
“Uh-huh,” he says, a smile tilting his gorgeous full lips. “Something keeping you up at night, Em?”
Why does his voice suddenly sound like sex? “So, uh, you come here often?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to force them back in. Landon has managed to turn me into a bumbling, lame, small-talking idiot.
“No, first time actually.” He doesn’t give me more than that. My eyes rake over him, taking him in from head to toe. Why am I acting this way this morning? I think it’s the eyes. Then again, maybe it’s the muscles, or that beard. Hmm, I do love me some beard. Either way, I need to snap out of it. This is Landon. The player, not just on the field if my internet research is accurate. We’re friends, nothing more.
“Hello.” He waves his hand in front of my face to get my attention. Not that it’s possible, but if it were possible, my face would be even redder from embarrassment. “You okay?” He raises his eyebrows like he’s not really sure. Is that concern on his face?
Great, I’ve officially presented myself as the crazy, messy, stare-off-into-space, laugh-at-the-wrong-time girl. Just the icing on this shit-tastic day. “Yeah, sorry, just thinking about what I’m going to get.” Lies.
“I’m not sure either.” He rubs his hand over his chin, over his beard.
“Cinnamon coffee cake muffin,” I blurt out my favorite. “You can’t go wrong.” I’m nodding like a crazy person. I blame all of this on my damn alarm clock. Waking up late puts me off-kilter every damn time. I hate it. I make a mental note to get a backup for the future. No more days like today. I don’t think I’d survive them, and the day’s just started.
“Next!” the barista calls out.
Just like that, he turns to place his order and I’m once again faced with his strong,
muscular back, and that ass. Realizing I’m standing here staring at said ass, I avert my gaze to anywhere but his ass. I settle on a poster advertising an upcoming craft fair at the local convention center. Maybe I’ll see if Aubrey wants to go. He turns to me. “What do you want, Em?”
“Nothing, I have a list, so you go ahead.” I wave him off.
“Emma.”
“Landon.” I match his tone. “Really, I’m good. Next time.”
“I’m holding you to that,” he says, and turns back to pay for his order.
Closing my eyes, I take a cleansing breath. I need to get my head in the game. I’m not some teenager who can’t talk to guys, and this is Landon. He’s not a stranger. Sure, we’re not BFFs, but we’ve spent some time together so the way I’m acting is ridiculous.
“Ma’am.” I hear an irritated barista call out. Opening my eyes and snapping my head to face forward, I see it’s my turn. I’m holding up the line, and Landon is gone.
“I’m sorry. It’s been one of those mornings,” I say with yet another awkward laugh.
“Can I take your order?” she asks, giving me a small tilt of her lips that tells me she’s not amused, but her job depends on her being friendly.
“Yes, I’ll take a large black coffee with two sugars, one banana nut muffin and one cinnamon coffee cake muffin.”
“Sorry, the guy before you took the last cinnamon coffee cake. What else can I get you?”
My shoulders sag. Of course, he did. Lucky bastard. “Just two banana nuts,” I say, defeated. Today is just not my day. Pulling my debit card out of my purse, I hand it over and try to give her a kind smile. It’s not her fault. Hell, it’s mine. I never should have suggested my favorite. If I wasn’t fumbling around like an idiot, I might not have. “Thank you,” I say, taking my card back and sliding it into my wallet. She hands me my coffee, and a small bag containing two muffins, and although the banana nut is delicious, I’m not nearly as excited as I was when I walked through the door.
“Have a nice day,” I say politely, turning toward the door. I notice that everyone seems to be looking at the back corner of the room, and that’s when I see him. Landon. The lucky bastard got my muffin. I take a step toward the door and stop. Everyone’s staring at him, no wonder he thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Sure, he’s easy on the eyes, but the bastard took my muffin. I take another step, keeping my eyes on him and the bag holding his delicious muffin that sits on the table untouched. He’s drinking what I assume is coffee and scrolling through his phone. He’s not even eating it. Come on, when you have a Seaside Café cinnamon
