Page 105 of Under Pressure
“Get out before I throw a shampoo bottle at you.”
My cock twitches at the threat, already hard again. When she realizes the response I’ve had to her, she shakes her head in bewilderment.
“I’ve never met a guy who finds being bullied such a turn-on. Have you ever gone to the doctor to get that checked out?”
“I already know what they’d say.”
She swings open the glass door and arches a brow up at me. “Pray tell, oh mighty one.”
Grinning so widely I know I’m flashing her double dimples, I pinch her chin and lower my head. She inhales deeply through her nose and waits.
“You’re both the sickness and the cure, Quinny. I’m doing just fine.”
“I still haven’t forgiven you about the whole issue with the bill, by the way,” Quinn drawls when we walk inside the coffee shop.
She doesn’t wait for me to reply before letting Bodi off his leash and taking off to help Eli behind the counter. I tuck my now-empty hand into my pocket and look around. Not a single table is empty, and the continuous chatter is almost soothing after so many days of listening to it. I don’t flinch when the espresso machine spits angrily or when a couple clink their glasses too hard and the glass scrapes together. There’s a settling feeling that envelops me as I wander to the counter and watch her get to work.
Callie’s not here, leaving only Eli to man the place by himself. A guilty wince works across her features that tugs hard on my gut. Without another thought, I slip through the tables and chairs and start gathering dirty dishes. The stack of them on the shelf above the square garbage is next on my list. I tackle the pile of them and bring them to the kitchen.
The surprised gasp from the opposite side of the room lets me know that Ruthie’s still here. I set the dirty dishes into the sink before reaching up to push my hair back and turn my hat around. She’s staring at me with a coy smile, her forearms buried deep inside the massive bag of flour on the ground.
“Well, good morning, Beck.”
“Morning, Ruthie. How are you?”
She pulls a giant scoop out of the bag and dumps the white powder into the standing mixer that’s nearly the size of her. “Oh, just fine. I was wondering when the two of you were going to wander in.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. That’s my bad. I should have had her come in earlier,” I apologize, wringing the back of my neck.
“Don’t look so grim. I never said it was a bad thing. Eli survived, didn’t he?”
“I’m not so sure Quinn is going to agree with you.”
“Just give her a smile, and she’ll live. That girl works too hard.”
I reach behind me to turn the sink on, needing to get started on the dishes. “I’ve gotta get her to teach me something more useful than washing dishes. She needs another employee.”
“Yes, but she won’t hire one.” She pauses for a beat, and then we speak the same word. “Stubborn.”
Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she laughs, finishing with the flour. I get the water ready the way I was taught that first day and find the neon green gloves in the same place I left them.
“Callie can’t spend as much time here helping as she could months ago. Last year, she was here more. But she’s in school, and it’s taking up her time the way it rightfully should. Quinn won’t be able to manage with just Eli, as much of a help as he is. If she doesn’t find more help, she’ll work herself to the bone here. With your schedule, that seems like a recipe for a disaster.”
My stomach curdles. “This sounds a lot more like a warning than an offer of advice, Ruthie.”
“You’re a smart boy.”
“She’ll listen to you more than she will me. You’re family to her.”
“And what are you?” she counters, her knowing stare resting heavy on me. “Her boyfriend, or?”
It feels like a test, and I’m really, really close to losing.
“Boyfriend.”
The lie tastes like chalk in my mouth. I want to be far, far more than that, but even a simple title like that would be better than the truth. That I’m . . . what? A distraction? Fun?
She chuckles, folding the opening of the flour bag. “Quinn must think I was born yesterday to believe I’d fall for such a panicked lie.”
