Sliding the last pan of cinnamon rolls into the oven, I move my head, humming to the music that’s filling the shop from the built-in speakers.
This is the last of my prep before we open at seven a.m. My morning routine is my favorite part of the day.
It’s consistent, almost never changing, aside from special bakes when I’m feeling up to it. And I love waking up before the rest of the world. Nothing compares to that silence, to the moment where the earth seems to stand still, the sun barely lights up the sky, and the shadows that haunt my every waking day are still nestled in their beds.
My phone chimes, and I hover my face above the screen as it unlocks.
Chloe: I’m running a bit late. I’ll be there in about forty. I’m sorry!
Rolling my eyes, I start filling the display case with the fresh muffins, rolls, scones, and croissants for the day. Chloe is usually late—the number of minutes differing every day, but late nonetheless. But it’s hard to be mad for her tardiness when she is not technically on the schedule. It has just become habit that she works when I work. Although her work style consists of talking to the customers and hanging out. Which is fine by me. I always enjoy her company.
After I fill the case up, the cinnamon rolls are ready to come out of the oven. I quickly ice them and load them into the case alongside the others. As my hips sway to the music, memories of being with Cam at Fireflies dance in my head.
No one has ever made me feel so alive, so free, so turned on. He was barely touching me, but I could feel it in every nerve in my body. I could feel every cell stand on edge and anticipate his next move. I would have stayed dancing with him the entire night if it meant I could feel that way forever.
But unfortunately, I don’t get to live that life, not now and probably not ever.
The soothing voice of Jamie Miller fills the coffee shop as I close my eyes and sporadically dance to the last few seconds of the song.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.
My phone alarm goes off, which is my cue to open the front door.
As I walk toward the front door of my shop, I smile at the regulars already waiting.
Charlie and Ryan, the cutest couple in the entire world, just got approved to adopt, and I could not be happier for them.
I welcome them inside as I flip the sign on the door to display Open. “Good morning, guys.”
They smile back at me, and Charlie says, “Good morning, Nikki.” He pauses and takes a deep breath in. “I think this is quite literally the smell of heaven.”
I roll my eyes at him. He is excessive with the number of compliments he gives to both me and the shop. But I am thankful for them nonetheless.
“Your usual?” I ask him as they follow me to the counter.
“You know it,” Ryan says as he pulls out his wallet.
“Ooh, wait, I want one of those!” Charlie points to the warm cinnamon rolls that are covered in white frosting.
“I got you,” I reply calmly while I’m beaming on the inside.
When people like what I made, whether a cinnamon roll or a frappé, I feel proud. Proud that something that I made and created is loved. It’s affirmation that I’m enough, that I’m in the right place and everything’s okay.
I pour two cold brews with half-and-half for Ryan and Charlie, grab a roll and place it in a paper bag, and bring it to the register.
I don’t have to tell them the total because they get the same thing every day, aside from the addition of the roll today. But Ryan doesn’t ask how much they owe; he just taps his card on the reader. Once approved, I print the receipt and hand it and the bag over to him, the coffees to follow.
“Have a good day, guys!” I genuinely smile at them as they turn to leave.
“You too, Nikki!” Charlie waves his coffee at me.
A twinge of guilt strikes my heart. I love my customers, and I feel like I have gotten to know my regulars very well. But it always makes me feel like a fraud.
People open up to me, tell me about their lives. They’re honest, genuine, and passionate. And I lie to their faces every time I see them.
I eventually make myself feel better. Knowing that I don’t have any other choice usually makes it easier. I mean, I’m still me behind the hair and the name. I still show them who I am to a degree.
But sometimes, the guilt hits me harder.
The rest of my regulars give me their orders, and I hastily start on them while trying to shut my feelings down.
When I grab a quick drink of my own coffee, the bell above my door rings, letting me know someone has entered.
“Hi, babe. Don’t worry; I have arrived,” Chloe announces as she makes her way to me and joins me behind the counter.
“You should have seen me. I was panicking like never before.” I chuckle as I stir the caramel macchiato.
She grabs a towel and smacks me with it while she tries to stifle her own laugh. “Need help with anything?” she asks as she ties an apron on. Then, she puts her name tag on, which says Jenny—she uses it to deter any questions about who she really is.
“Right now? No, everything’s ready for at least the morning. We are getting low on almond milk though if you want to grab a new one from the back.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She salutes me as she spins and heads to the cooler.
I giggle and hand out the drinks to the remaining customers. “Have a great day, everyone!”
A string of thank you and you too flows from their lips as they turn to leave with their coffees in hand.
Grabbing the dirty dishes, I quickly bring them to the sink to rinse them out. The hot water stings at first, but it quickly subsides. Right as I grab the first stir stick, the bell chimes again at the front.
As I quickly scrub the stick with my back facing my new guests, I call out, “I’ll be right with you guys!”
The mumbles coming from behind me sound vaguely familiar. A shiver runs down my spine, and the back of my neck burns—the same feeling I felt only nights ago. When one particular blue-eyed boy broke down every barrier I had.
Laura’s and Jack’s voices are almost nostalgic to me. Right as I’m about to turn and greet them face-to-face, Chloe comes out of the back room directly to my left, and her eyes widen as she freezes in place.
She not-so-subtly glances at me. “Want me to get them?”
That confirms my suspicion tenfold. I’ll be a big girl and not let some little crush inhibit me from doing my job. Without a word, I shake my head.
I mean, let’s be honest here. I had a mask on, it was dark as hell in there, and I left like Cinderella. The amount of actual time we spent together was very minimal. I’m sure he has forgotten me altogether.
I take a deep breath before turning around.
My eyes stay glued to the floor and then on the countertop as they reach the counter to order. I know this defense will only last me another second before I have to look up.
“How have you been?” Laura asks with pure happiness in her voice.
Ugh. This is it. If he’s going to remember, it’s going to be now.
Slowly, I lift my eyes to meet hers, and I force them to stay there. My perfect smile forms on my lips as I say, “I’ve been really good. How are you? How has life been treating you?” My words fall from my lips of their own accord.
She can’t help the knowing gleam from shining in her eyes. Immediately, she glances at Cam. I know it’s him. I can see the raven tattoo in my peripheral vision.
Laura, can you be any less subtle?
She beams as she glances up to Alec, but I don’t follow her stare. Instead, my gaze moves to Jack, who I swear has grown a foot since I last saw him.
“Oh my gosh, Jack, you are going to be taller than me soon!”
He smiles and places his hands on the counter.
“What can we get for you?” Chloe asks as she joins me at my side, carefully brushing against my hip to show her support.
“I’ll have my usual—salted caramel cold brew. Chocolate milk for Jack. Alec?” Laura asks, and when she glances my way, her eyes reveal everything.
She totally knows that I know that this is the mystery guy from that night. She could have just left him in the damn car, but instead, she invited him into my shop and put him right in front of me.
Hopefully, with his drop-dead gorgeous looks, Blue Eyes comes with no brains.
“I’ll just have water, please,” Alec says, completely unaware of the real dynamic at play.
Moment of truth.
“And for y-you?” My word stutters as my eyes meet the mystery man.
Holy shit. I didn’t think that a mask could truly hide so much of someone’s face. I was very, very wrong.
Blue Eyes isn’t simply attractive. He doesn’t just take my breath away; he takes my fucking soul. Another man will never compare to the beauty in his features. His sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and beautiful, large eyes are irritatingly perfect.
Ugh, guys who look like that know it too. They know how to use their looks and wield it like a weapon. And Blue Eyes will be very wrong to underestimate me in any way.
It dawns on me that more than a brief second has passed while our eyes have been locked on to one another.
“I’ll take a black coffee, please.” Blue Eyes’s deep voice causes goose bumps to break out on the tops of my arms.
“You got it.” My voice is quieter than I would like.
But I don’t think he has really placed me yet. The longing look of familiarity dances between us, but I think he’s having a hard time putting his finger on it.
“We’ll grab a seat. Cam, get our drinks,” Laura orders.
Cam. I wonder if it’s short for Cameron or if it’s just Cam.
“Aye, aye, captain,” he retorts in a mocking tone.
Thank God Chloe is filling the cups for orders because I’m fucking helpless right now.
Cam has me all weird. I’m flustered and overanalyzing everything he does to see if he recognizes me. But so far, he hasn’t given me an indicator that he has.
“That will be right up,” I tell him as he sets his phone on the counter and places his palms down on either side, wrapping his fingers around the edge of the counter.
He is just watching me, studying me.
I wonder if he does this to everyone. Is it because no one stops him? Because he looks like a golden-tan god?
“If you prefer to have a seat, I can bring them to your table,” I offer with a hint of sternness in my voice.
“That would be great actually, thank you.” He smiles, grabs his phone, and pushes off of the counter, spinning at his torso, and he heads over to the booth that Laura always sits in.
I exhale the breath I was holding as an ounce of pressure releases from my shoulders.
Spinning to Chloe, I already know what to expect.
“Nikki, it is fucking fate. Please get his number, dear God, for the both of us,” she mumbles as I help her finish making the drinks.
Glaring at her, I say, “You know damn well that I cannot do that.”
Grabbing two of the drinks, Chloe whispers, “Wrong. You won’t.”
I grab the black coffee and chocolate milk and lead the way to their table. “Stop it, Chlo.”
They all drop whatever conversation they are having as we approach.
A knee hits my thigh, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek in an attempt to stop the blush. Cam’s knee is now pressed firmly against my right mid-thigh, and he clears his throat.
But I ignore him, which is harder than I thought it would be. In my peripheral vision, I see him shaking his head ever so slightly. I’m sure he has used this routine on every waitress.
I set the black coffee down, and all I can think about is getting back behind the safety of my counter. I don’t fear Cam—quite the opposite actually. But that is far more worthy of my fear.
Jack smiles up at me as I reach across the table on the left side and hand Jack his milk.
“Here you go!” I say in a cheery voice.
“Thank you!” He sings as he grabs it from me.
I quietly clear my throat before saying, “Please let us know if there is anything else we can get for y—”
Suddenly, my arm is in a grasp, and my heart plummets to my gut. But as fast as the fear and anxiety arrived, it dissipates as I realize what’s happening.
Cam has my forearm in his grasp, and the most devilish smile appears on his lips. It takes me all but a second to realize what caused this reaction from him, and I suddenly wish I had worn long sleeves today.
Stupid.
He gently tugs me forward, pressing me harder into the table and into his knee so I have no choice but to face him. I look down.
His sultry tone murmurs the pet name he gave me as those blue eyes look up at me through dark lashes. “Little Dove. What a surprise.” His thumb strokes over the inked lines of the dove on my skin.
Dangerous shivers course through my body.
“I’m sorry. I think you must have me confused with someone else,” I say, ready to yank my arm back out of his touch, but I hesitate for some reason.
He leans forward and sits up, still holding my arm and now tracing circles with his thumb. His gaze shifts, resembling a similar look I saw in his eyes when he had his thumb in my mouth on the dance floor.
He takes a deep breath, and as he exhales, he seems to have drifted closer, somehow sitting up even taller.
I should have backed up long ago. Put more space between us. But I don’t think that really would have made a difference. He probably would’ve just hopped over the table.
Pulling me down until only mere inches separate us, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Little Dove, Little Dove.”
It takes me a moment to realize he just breathed me in. I don’t know whether to be turned on or creeped out. Or embarrassed at the fact that Alec, Laura, Chloe, and Jack are watching this.
“It is most definitely you.”
