He nods, and without asking, I start making his coffee. I can feel his gaze on me as my trembling hands steam the milk. The pitching mug shakes, ruining the four-leaf clover I’m trying to make on his coffee.
Ivy slides up next to me, blurting at him, “You need to buy lunch today.”
“Ivy!”
“What? Joe said he needs to buy lunch or else Vienna will be out of the café.”
I pinch her leg under the counter and place his to-go coffee cup before him with a slightly distorted clover design on the foam. “She means the coffee. Not me.”
Zane’s smile drops, and his gaze skids to the display counter with our lunch special.
“But you don’t need to order anything,” I rush to add.
He grabs his neck, and for a second, I worry we’ve cornered him. But then his fingers run up and down his throat, and I realize he does this whenever he has to start a conversation.
Is he nervous about his stutter?
But that would be too crazy. That one flaw makes him approachable. It’s like a small dent in his perfection.
He swallows a few times before asking, “What d-do you r-recommend?”
Of course he’d be one of those rare men who genuinely care about a woman’s opinion. God, as if I’m not already crushing over him enough.
“What are you in the mood for?” I cannot escape the excitement and tease in my voice.
He shrugs before smiling. “S-surprise me.”
For a second, I forget everything and just focus on the way the corners of his lips tug up.
I hesitate over the hot pastrami sandwich box, in which I’ve made a beautiful grasshopper with pickles, complete with olive eyes. Or would he like the creamy mushroom pasta, where I created a beautiful evening landscape with some grated beets and chopped parsley?
“I’ll t-take both.”
My head jerks up. He has walked beyond the checkout counter to the display case and is looking at my grip on each box.
“Um, really?”
He nods before placing a fifty-dollar bill onto the counter.
I’m about to return the change, but he shakes his head, as he does every day. I place the take-out boxes in a paper bag.
Who is the second lunch for?
Maybe some colleague at work, or perhaps he has a girlfriend.
My nose crinkles over that idea.
I’m about to hand him the bag when he shifts from one foot to the other and glances at me before swallowing. “W-would you like t-to have lunch w-with me? I have plenty.”
Holy shit!
I think I just died and visited heaven at his cuteness.
“She’d love that. We’re just starting our lunch break.” Ivy almost pushes me away from the counter.
There’s a mix of tremor and spring in my step as I lead Zane to the outside seating area facing the corporate buildings.
After placing the paper bag and his coffee onto the table, ever the gentleman, he lets me sit first before perching down on a chair.