I really wish I had his name. What did ‘Bruiser’ even mean? Was it a nickname? The anonymity was killing me. I wanted to thank him for helping me out, but a free app would have to do.
“I’ll take the bacon-wrapped scallops, but these are chicken fajitas, and I ordered steak.” He spoke very matter-of-factly, and I rose my brows as I struggled to fight the smirk that tingled my lips. I glanced down at my pad briefly, but when I looked up again, he stared at me with a knowing glint.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll get the right app as soon as possible.” Rushing back toward the kitchen, I put the new app order in and then all the entrees, making sure to double check the order. Smiling to myself, I exhaled a shaky breath as flames licked up my neck.
“Excuse me.” Glancing up at the deep, familiar baritone, I stiffened as the guy walked up to me with a confidence that was intimidating. He was so much taller than I expected, and my mouth dried as he stopped a few feet from me. “You don’t have to put in a new order.”
“I already did it. It’s my fault, so it’s on the house.” Belatedly, I realized I didn’t sound very nervous, and the man smirked a charming smile that stole the breath from my lungs. “U-um, so . . . yeah, it’s no problem at all.”
“Right . . .” He didn’t sound convinced at all before holding out his hand, and I automatically took it. Tensing as something soft transferred palms, I licked my lips heavily under his narrowed gaze. “Well, since you already put the order in, I’ll go back to my table.”
“Okay.” Clutching my fist tight, I watched him saunter off, and I couldn’t help but stare at his ass in his form-fitting jeans. I bit back a groan and stomped my heel lightly, dramatically, before turning back to the register to unfurl my palm. The napkin had a date, time, and place. It was a little coffee place that was quite close to my apartment. Heat flooded my veins, and I stuffed the napkin in my apron as a giggle clogged my throat. Holy fucking shit. I can’t believe that just happened, but I’m here for it.
After all, I felt the need to properly thank this hot guy for his help anyway.
Chapter Nine
Bruiser
“I can’t believe you didn’t ask her out, Bruiser.” Parker couldn’t help but make a sly remark. As it filtered through my headset, I pulled up on the curb in front of the bank sharply. “You seriously didn’t get her number? I don’t believe your ass.”
“I didn’t ask for or give her my number, Parker. It’s been a week. Will you shut the fuck up about it?” Growling into the receiver, I tapped the ‘end call’ button on my phone and jerked my helmet off to bluster a huge, hot sigh. Closing my eyes briefly, I soaked up the sun on my face to melt the ice lodged in my chest. This is starting to bug the shit out of me. I think it might be time to kick Parker’s ass to the curb.
The thing was, though, I did ask Nicole out, although not in so many words. Not in any words, actually. She was hot, but there was something else about her that I couldn’t stop thinking about. I wanted to know what it was, aside from her perfect ass. On the mountain, I was preoccupied, that I hadn’t given much thought when it came to Nicole at first, but as I’d discovered her at work, I realized I was interested in the mysterious woman. Seeing her at work somehow set a fire within me. One I didn’t plan on putting out.
Nicole hadn’t entered my mind even once in the last week, but she kept me up at night. Her smile was bright and untainted, and the shadows in her eyes had fled. Maybe, I was taking a shot in the dark, but there was something about her that captivated me. The least I could do was explore it and see where it led if it led anywhere in the first place.
Hoisting my backpack up on my shoulders, I glanced down the sidewalk on either side of me before heading into the bank. Reaching to rub the back of my head roughly, I took a deep breath of the crisp, spring hair and held it. I twirled my keys to drown out the bad music in the bank and flipped my phone in my other hand before unlocking the screen.
Shooting Spyder a quick text that I’d arrived, I navigated to the news to waste some time in line. I’d need to deposit this money with the teller, after all, and it always took no less than twenty minutes. I’m on one of the nail salon’s accounts as an owner, so it doesn’t look weird that I was the guy making deposits. I’d only make a couple of deposits a month, so they’d never thought it was weird I’d come in here with so much cash.
Coming to Provo was about the same distance as going to Las Vegas, and it was safer. Who came to Provo, of all places, and thought, ‘let’s set up a money laundering scheme’? That’s right. No one.
“Can I help you, sir?” Shuffling up to the counter, I dropped my backpack as the teller shot me a welcoming smile. “Welcome back, sir. ID and account information, please.”
I pulled out my wallet to slide the cards under the bulletproof glass, and she clacked away on the computer for a moment before nodding
