Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [14]
***
Push or retreat? Braden wondered. Which would work best with this woman?
He had the damnedest feeling that if she said no, he wouldn’t get a second chance. For whatever reason, she was hesitating. He could exercise a little patience, put her at ease and try again.
“Come on, I’ll walk you back to Angie’s,” he said.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I was headed there anyway. Besides, I’ve got the umbrella.” Braden reached into the backseat and pulled out the umbrella she’d tossed as they’d thrown themselves into the car. “Got the keys? We’ll lock her up and get going before the rain starts up again.”
She fumbled, but produced the keys from her pocket. “Right here.”
“Great.” He reached in, pressed the lock button and swung the door shut. “Got everything?”
“Yeah.”
Braden gently cupped her elbow and steered her toward him; it was subtle but he felt tension seize her muscles beneath his touch. “Careful, there’s a man-eating pothole just to your right.” He forced a smile for her benefit. One day soon she’d tense in anticipation and pleasure, rather than nerves. His hands itched with impatience. It would be so easy to rest his large hands on her slender hips and back her up against the nearest vertical surface. He had to forcibly tear his mind from the way her hips would feel under his palms. He wasn’t a teenager, he could wait until she was ready or at least until they weren’t in public. Until then, plan B—conversation.
“Have you lived in Portland long?” They turned the corner out of the parking lot and headed up the street. People were beginning to emerge from shops and restaurants, hurrying up the sidewalks to get back to their cars.
“No. I moved here just a few weeks before I started working for Angie.”
“And before that?” They paused, waiting for the light to change.
She paused, as though considering her answer carefully. “Traveling mostly. I was pretty burned-out when I graduated from college. I decided to take a little time to decide what I really wanted before I threw myself into the workforce.”
Braden glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He’d bet everything he owned she knew exactly what she wanted to do. It was another question he’d find an answer to…later. “What? No ambitions toward a career in the coffee business?”
She laughed. “God, no! I love Angie, but there are days when I just…” She made a frustrated gesture with her hands. “Argh! Days when customers are never happy, the espresso machines are on the fritz, my feet ache and all I can think is that I am never, ever, going to wash off the smell of burned coffee.”
“And to think, you don’t even take advantage of all the free caffeine.” Bit by bit her nerves were fading—she smiled more, became more animated.
“You’re right. I should quit tomorrow.”
“Hell, don’t do that. Angie would have my head.” They rounded the corner; the Grind’s flag was waving from an overhang at the top of the next block. “You must like something about it. You’ve been there almost six months.”
“I like Angie. She’s easy to work for.”
“You’ve got to be kidding! Angie? Easy to work for?”
“No really. She’s tough, and she likes things done her way, but you always know where you stand with her and I always feel like she looks out for the people she works with. It’s nice.”
“That sounds like Angie.” Not quite ready to get back to the café, Braden slowed his pace a little. “But I still couldn’t work for her,” he muttered.
“She takes a lot of pride in her business. It shows in everything she does, from the way she plans the menus, to the way she maintains the café. It’s easy to see why she has so many regular customers.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything about the Grind is inviting, from the comfy sofas to the way the building was restored. The café itself is amazing, the ceiling tiles and moldings all look original, everywhere you look there’s something interesting,