Zeke (The Powers That Be, Book 2) (2 page)

Zeke had
gotten to his feet and held his hand down to me. I frowned but put
my hand in his letting him help me up. Then we stood there in
uncomfortable silence before I finally cleared my throat and said
quietly as I watched Jordy wiping the booth on Zeke’s side, “Uh, I
can go ahead and take your order and put it in a to-go carton since
I’m sure I’ve wasted your time. And again, it’s on me.” I looked up
at Zeke and couldn’t help thinking that half grins were now my new
religion.

“It’s okay. My
class isn’t until ten, so I’ll stay. I’ll take two pastries and a
refill on the water.” Full-on grin now. Hell, forget about the half
grin. Full-on grins were now what I’d worship forever. Gah.

Jordy finished
and walked away but not before winking at me, the little twerp. He
was sixteen, Mae and Dale’s grandson, and had had a crush on me for
some time now. I knew this because he’d asked me out several times
not caring that there was an almost nine-year difference in our
ages. I’d laughed when he’d told me, and I quote, “May-December
romances fuckin’ rock, Scarlett.” I had to give the kid props for
even knowing what that was.

“Okay, I’ll,
uh, be right back with your pastries and a new water,” I said to
Zeke, not a little flustered, and grabbing up the coffee pot I’d
put on his table, headed back to the counter.

“What the
hell, Scar?” Jayla said when I walked behind the counter, grabbed a
glass and bent to scoop some ice into it. “It looked like you were
giving the guy a blowjob from here.” She snorted then continued
helping the customer at the register. See? No freakin’ filter on
that mouth of hers.

I grabbed the
tongs and slid the door open in the glass case where the pastries
were, picking up a couple to place on a plate. When the customer
left, I answered, “Oh, you caught that? Let me just say he
thoroughly enjoyed himself. And he tastes yum! Spitters are
quitters, you know!” I gave her a look. “Embarrassed enough here,
Jay. I don’t need you adding to it.”

She chuckled.
“Now that’s how to get a guy’s attention. Good job!” I turned and
gave her a droll look which made her laugh. “Why don’t you pour
some hot coffee on him next? He just might propose.” She let out
her trademark cackle that sounded like a donkey dying.

After shooting
her another dirty look which made her bray even more, I came out
from behind the counter heading toward Zeke’s table, then carefully
set his water down and placed the plate of pastries in front of
him. “I’ll be back with coffee.” I turned quickly and went back to
the counter, grabbing a fresh pot then went back to his table.

“Uh, may I?”
he asked, nodding at the coffee pot with a grin.

“Sure,” I
answered, the blush hitting my face again as I set the pot on his
table, handle toward him, now annoyed. Great. He didn’t trust me to
pour his coffee. I watched as he filled his mug then after he’d set
the pot down inquired, “Can I get you anything else?” I smiled
sweetly at him, not really meaning it as I picked up the coffee
pot.

“Yes, you can,”
he replied. I stood there impatiently waiting for him to tell me
what he needed watching as he put a teaspoon of sugar into his
coffee and stirred it. When he finished, he took a sip then glanced
up at me. “How about your number?”

No, no, no, no, no!
Why was this happening now? No guy had asked for my number in over
two years! I’d had a couple flirt some with me but that had been it
(and Jayla of course had made sure to gripe me out for not giving
them the time of day), but I’m pretty sure they’d picked up on my
“I’m not available” vibe, aka my total, “Ask me out and I’ll make
you regret it” aura
.

But Zeke
hadn’t or he had and just didn’t care.

I mean, I was
busy not only working two jobs, but also on getting my business
management degree at Hallervan University in Seattle so I could
open a bakery eventually. I planned to work out of my home at
first, hopefully gaining customers through a website, and Mae and
Dale said they’d sell my baked goodies in the restaurant and
continue to do so once I got things up and running! Then they’d
offered to go in as partners once I was ready to open my own place.
God, I loved them! So that was my life right now and I didn’t have
time for anything outside of it, especially dating. And dating
someone like Zeke Powers who I knew could totally rock my friggin’
world and screw with my plans was
definitely
off the table.
So although he was incredibly handsome and sweet, there was no way
I could allow myself to get caught up in him.

Besides I’d
been burned too many times to take a chance again anyway.

“Uh…” I
articulated eloquently as I stared down at him.

And, man, he
wasn’t helping me out here at all, his gorgeous brown eyes gleaming
golden in the morning light that came through the window by his
table as he gave me that seductive half grin that nearly made my
legs buckle.

“Um, I’m
sorry, but I don’t give my number out,” I went on to explain.

He picked up a
pastry and took a bite, closing his eyes for a second and letting
out a groan. Dear God. I couldn’t help but think that was a sound
he might make when he was turned on and I felt a
whoosh
inside my womb. When he looked up at me, from the look on his face
I could tell that he was not in the least deterred by my rule.

“There are
other ways I can get your number, Scarlett.”

He took
another bite emitting a similar sound as before and now I knew my
panties were soaked. Shit! I’d never had this kind of reaction to a
man before. Holy damn, he was hot.

But then I
frowned. Wait. How the hell could he get my number? So I asked.
“How could you get my number?”

I’d seen the
half grin. I’d seen the whole grin. But now he shot me his wicked
grin which damn near brought me to my knees. “I have my ways.”

As I stared at
him in a semi state of shock, I couldn’t tell if that got me hot or
kinda creeped me out. I mean, good looking guy, won’t take no for
an answer… hey, I’d read some of the latest romance novels so I
figured it could go either way.

Then the
realist in me emerged (as it always did) and I decided to nip
things in the bud pronto because the last thing I needed was to
have a hot guy hitting on me.

My goals had
made me seriously insane. Whatever.

“Well, Zeke,”
I saw his eyebrow rise at this first time of my saying his name,
“I’m sure you have your resources, and although I find it
flattering that you’d ask for my number, it’s just not gonna
happen. I hope you understand and aren’t gonna go all serial killer
stalker-ish on me.” I gave him a glare then remembered he was a
customer, so my sweetest smile made its appearance again. I turned
to walk away then stopped, and swinging my head around said, “Oh,
again, your meal’s on me today. I don’t expect a tip. Have a great
day.”

Walking back
to the counter I had to chuckle at the way he’d narrowed his eyes
at me while I’d spoken. I’m sure he wasn’t used to being rejected,
like, ever, but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there.
When I got to the counter, I saw Jayla frowning at me as she rang
up another customer, wondering what was going on I’m sure, and
bugging my eyes at her I silently begged her not to say a word, and
miracle of miracles she kept her mouth shut.

I placed the
coffee pot back on the warmer then picked up a fresh one to serve
refills, feeling pretty good about how I’d handled things with
Zeke. I mean, I had priorities. I had goals. And even though I was
busting my ass to make a future for myself right now and knew it
came at the expense of my having any kind of social life, I was
okay with that because one day soon, that would change and things
would be better, just not now. I took a deep breath and blew it out
knowing I’d done the right thing, and upon turning to head back out
to my tables saw that Zeke had finished his meal and was making his
way out the door. Good.

After taking
care of my customers, I headed to Zeke’s table only to see the end
of a twenty-dollar bill peeking out from inside a folded paper
napkin lying on the table. Dang it. I’d told him I’d pay for his
breakfast which had been just over seven dollars which meant he’d
left me an almost thirteen-dollar tip! Ugh. When I picked up the
napkin, I noticed writing on it and opened it.

206-555-7777

Call me…

Don’t make me
go all Paul Spector on you…

Too
stalker-ish?

Well, I guess
if he had to pick a serial killer at least he’d picked a hot one.
And had Badass Hot Guy really drawn me a smiley face? Hm.

“Honey, I
don’t think you should let that one get away,” the elderly woman at
the table behind me said making me jump. I turned and looked down
at her with a frown. She was with her husband and they both
appeared to be in their early seventies. “I think he’s very
handsome. And, oh! He’s so polite too! When he asked if I had a pen
he could borrow, he called me ma’am then gave me a smile so
enticing it made me wish I was twenty again. Damn, he’s hot.” Then
she fanned herself with her hand.

Surprised, I
choked out a laugh at this lady’s cheekiness then couldn’t help but
giggle when her husband rolled his eyes at me then continued eating
as if he was used to his wife’s fangirling.

And I kept
smiling big as I turned to pick up a few dishes off the table to
help Jordy out until I wasn’t smiling so big when I glanced out the
window and saw Zeke standing by a black pickup truck with a huge
smile of his own then a beautiful blond woman practically skipped
up to him and threw her arms around his neck grabbing him as if she
needed him for her next breath itself. But what really wiped the
smile off my face was when he hugged her back tightly as if she was
his… everything.

And I felt my
heart crack just a little.

~*~*~*~

“It’s me,
Grammy!” I yelled when I came into the house at eleven forty-five
that morning carrying a bag of groceries I’d stopped to get with my
meager funds which included the tip Zeke had left.

Unpacking the
no-name brand foods I’d bought, I quickly put the cereal into the
cabinet, the milk and hamburger in the fridge and the generic boxes
of the premade noodle hamburger helping stuff on the counter to
make for dinner tonight. Yum. Oh, well, it was Lane’s favorite so
at least he’d be happy with it.

“Hi, honey,”
Grandma Pearl said as she shuffled into the kitchen. Grammy was
Dad’s mom and had just turned seventy-four on New Year’s Day but
was still very spry although back surgery ten years before had
slowed her down some. She was beautiful and had gorgeous white hair
that she wore in a pixie cut which fit her petite five-two frame.
And she was tough, which I think is where I’d gotten my own willful
disposition. After Grandpa died from a heart attack when I was only
five, Grammy had never remarried. When I asked why, she’d told me
she’d had offers but said Grandpa had taken half of her heart when
he’d gone and she didn’t think it fair to give another man only a
fourth of it. “You’re running late.”

“I know!” I
answered, running past my grandmother to go to my room to change.
“My class starts in ten minutes!”

I decided to
stay in the jeans I’d worn to work but yanked off the long-sleeved
t-shirt that said “The Breakfast Nook” on the front and grabbed a
beige fisherman’s sweater, pulling it over my head as I ran down
the hall to the bathroom where I pulled a brush through my thick
brown hair, dabbed on some lip gloss and spritzed on some body
spray then I was out of there.

“Bye, Grammy!
I’ll be home around four with Lane then I’ve gotta go back to the
Dean’s office!”

Outside, I
jumped into Jezebel, the blue ’66 Mustang I’d saved three years
for, hoping the carburetor would continue not being picky on this
chilly January morning. Luckily it turned over on the first try.
“Thatta girl,” I muttered, then threw her in reverse and backed out
of the drive, still miffed at what I’d seen outside The Nook’s
window but trying to put it behind me.

“As if I
care,” I mumbled to myself as I drove to class.

When I got to
campus, I parked then grabbed my backpack and sprinted to my
international management class, making it inside to find that the
professor was already taking roll. With a sigh of relief that class
hadn’t started, I looked around the room to see that the rows had
long tables stretching from aisle to aisle with eight chairs at
each. Upon seeing an open seat, I walked the stairs to the third
row, and excusing myself as I walked in front of the table behind
me, found the empty seat and sat.