Page 6 of Working For Her Sweet Treats

“Broad shoulders. Quiet eyes. Unresolved emotional patterns.”

I close my eyes briefly. When I open them, Jake is looking at me.

“Does she do this with everyone?”

“So far.”

Loralee walks closer to his table and studies the remains of his breakfast. “Caramel apple. Interesting.”

“It’s the muffin of the week,” I say.

“I meant his choice.” She taps one finger against her chin. “Apples are associated with temptation, knowledge, and hidden desire.”

Jake looks down at the muffin. “It was either this or a cinnamon roll.”

“You bought those, too.”

“One is for somebody else,” he says.

Loralee and I exchange a glance.

Jake exhales. “There is somebody else.”

“Of course,” Loralee says soothingly.

He stands and gathers the paper bag holding both cinnamon rolls. The café chair appears relieved.

“I should get to work.”

He carries his cup and bag toward the door, stopping before he reaches it. His gaze travels up the frame again.

“Don’t use that door if the hinge gets any looser.”

“It’s the only customer entrance.”

“Then get the hinge fixed.”

“I’ll put it on my list.”

“How long is the list?”

“That is none of your business.”

Jake opens the door. The hinge releases a faint metallic squeak I have never noticed before. His brows lift.

I point toward the sidewalk. “Go restore something.”

He steps outside, pauses on the mat, and deliberately wipes both boots several times. Then he looks back through the glass and smiles. Jake raises the paper bag in a brief salute and walks toward a dark pickup parked at the curb.

Loralee comes to stand beside me.

“His energy likes you.”

“His energy ruined my floor.”

“That can be cleaned.”

“So can most energy, apparently.”