Hooked: A Dark, Contemporary Romance (Never After #1)(9)



The sting from the coffee mixes with the tears collecting behind my lids.

Fuck this guy.

I move to my knees gingerly, blowing out slow and steady breaths to calm my racing heart. Today is definitely not my day.

“And here I was thinking men were supposed to know how to treat a lady.”

My body freezes, wet coffee-soaked shirt sticking to my skin, my hands getting a purchase on the tiled floor. That accent.

The angry customer scoffs, smacking his hand on the counter to punctuate his words, his gaudy watch counting the seconds audibly. “And here I was thinking I’d be able to get a cup of coffee without it being a production.”

A flush rises to my cheeks, and I get up slowly, wincing at the pain that’s throbbing in my lower back. My eyes lock on ocean blue, the mystery man I met the other night standing as if he was plucked straight from my dreams and placed in front of me.

Great. He would show up during my humiliation.

My eyes narrow on the other customer, trying to keep my breathing steady and my temper in check, and the smile on my face stretches from ear to ear. “I’m so sorry about that. I’ll make you another one, on the house.”

His lips turn down as he glares at me. “I already paid. Just make the damn drink!”

My stomach curls in on itself, visions of making him another cup and then throwing it in his face, assaulting my mind.

“Stop.” My mystery man’s voice makes me falter.

I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about him over the past two days, but I never in a million years would have expected him to show up here.

He leans against the glass case, his three-piece suit perfectly pressed, giving him an air of sophistication that swallows the guy next to him whole. “Do you have a tendency to let small men speak to you in such a way, darling?”

Shame curdles my insides. “No, I—” I clear my throat. “He’s a customer, is all.”

“Nah man, this bitch just doesn’t know how to do a simple job.”

A low chuckle rumbles from my mystery man’s chest, the sound vibrating through the café. His frame already towers over the other guy, but like a shape-shifter, he morphs, sucking all the energy from around him and using it to expand his stature. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, and my gaze is transfixed on the vision.

He leans in close to the customer’s ear. “Your watch is rather loud.”

The guy scrunches his brows. “Huh?”

My mystery man nods toward the asshole’s wrist, the diamond-encrusted watch gleaming like a beacon. “Your watch. It’s… ticking.”

“Okay, and?”

He sighs, a hand coming to rub across the bottom of his jaw. My eyes track the movement, taking in how incredibly attractive he is, even more so in the light of day.

The jerk turns toward me, eyes widening as he smacks his palm on the counter again, the sound slapping against my insides like nails on a chalkboard.

“Enjoying the show? Make my coffee.”

I grit my teeth. If I wasn’t at work, I wouldn’t be trying so hard to bite my tongue, but I enjoy this job. It’s the first one I’ve ever had, and while I definitely don’t need it by any stretch of the imagination, it feels good to have something that I’ve earned. Something that wasn’t handed to me because of my last name and the blood that runs through my veins.

As much as I love my father, sometimes, it gets heavy living in his shadow.

“Don’t make his coffee, darling.” The pet name flips my stomach, and my eyes volley between the two men.

The customer’s face turns ruddy, but he doesn’t speak. Doesn’t argue. Presumably because even he can feel the power radiating from the man standing at his side.

My stranger’s tongue swipes along his bottom lip, causing a sharp ache to spread between my legs.

“It’s graceful,” he says, meeting my eyes. “The way you’re acting. Says more about your character than his.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks, gratitude lighting me up like Christmas lights. How is it possible that this man was able to take away my humiliation and turn it into something beautiful with a few simple words?

“Fuck you,” the jerk spits.

Mystery man’s blue eyes harden, a tight smile twisting his lips. He slips a hand into his pocket, leaning in close to the guy, muttering something in his ear.

My ears strain, unable to stop myself from eavesdropping, but he speaks so softly it’s impossible to hear. Whatever he says causes the man’s eyes to grow large, and he turns and rushes out the door without another word spoken.

I’m frozen in place, my heart beating rapidly in my chest as I glance around. And it’s only then I take in that there are other people in the shop. Two young men, standing off to the side, both in black suits, and both wearing identical faces. Twins.

I was so zoned into what was happening, I didn’t even see them. Mystery man’s eyes glance to them and he gives a short nod. Without another look, they walk out of the shop and onto the street.

Odd.

He brings his attention back to me, and like a moth to a flame, I’m sucked into his gaze, the questions fading to the back of my mind.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

My heart skips. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you though, for standing up for me.”

Emily McIntire's Books