It's a Brewtiful Day (The Coffee Loft Series: Fall Collection) by H.M. Shander

Author:H.M. Shander [Shander, H.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Eminem’s Lose Yourself echoed out of the metal bowl. Fitting especially given the moments we’d just emerged from. Personally, I was just about to truly lose myself, but for an entirely different reason.

Elliot dropped his hands, but held me close, pulling me tightly. “I saw the remnant of the flash. I thought you had, too.”

I shook my head. How foolish would it be to admit I’d been lost in the moment? Probably very teenagerish, so I refrained from speaking.

“Do you want something to drink?” His voice rumbled in my ears and sent shivers down my spine.

“Yeah, please.” My mouth had gone as dry as a desert suddenly.

He placed the water bottle in my hand, but it was fairly light, being almost empty. “Let’s grab some more.”

“I’ll add it to our running list.” I was a half-step behind him to the counter. He grabbed two more bottles from the display case.

“Of course.” He cracked the lid on his and chugged it down. “Thank you.”

I nodded, then chugged half the bottle.

“You all good?” His brow arched.

“Maybe if you keep kissing me like that, I won’t even notice the storm.” I shook my head and covered my face in shame. What the William Shatner of over dramatics was I thinking? “That was… Oh my gosh…”

He pulled my hands down and stared into my eyes. “I’m more than happy to try if that’s what you want.”

But then it would be forced, and not natural like it had been. We’d both been caught in the heat of the moment and somehow, I sensed he knew it too.

A flash of lightning beyond the window stilled my soul, and I felt the heat from the dancing and the kiss rush out of my body in a land speed record.

Elliot searched my eyes but, for whatever reason, he didn’t lean down to kiss me. Just as well, as my lips turned to ice. It would’ve been like kissing a fish. Instead, he held me tight and inched us over to the metal bowl where his phone continued to play. Pocketing it into the back of his jeans, with the music still playing, he picked up the bowl. Just like in the movie The Shawshank Redemption when the thunder threatened to rip my heart from my chest after the sky flashed, he banged the metal bowl against the stainless-steel counter.

He looked absolutely ridiculous, but it worked. The thunderous sound Mother Nature produced wasn’t so bad; it was tolerable and certainly not as loud as Elliot’s clanking. He reminded me of a toddler who bangs the bowls onto the floor and giggles with glee, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there may have been a small smile pushing out to the corners of his lips. There certainly was on mine.

“I adore seeing that,” he whispered, pointing to my face and encircling it with his finger.

Like a schoolgirl, I blushed big time. “Thanks.”

“Did that help?”

I nodded and pulled my stringy hair over my shoulder. “Amazingly enough, yes.”

“Perfect. If it helps you, I’m totally on board.

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