If I Were You (Inside Out #1)(22)

I roll my eyes rather than my tongue. “If being tested on everything from art to opera is sexy, please shoot me now.”

She laughs. “I should have guessed. I know the crew next door well enough to know he’s put them all through the wringer.”

“How long have you known them?” I ask, thinking of Rebecca.

“I’ve been open five years and I’ve known Mark that entire time.” She wiggles a brow. “Why? You want gossip?”

I perk up at that. “You have gossip?”

“Honey, I always have gossip.” The phone rings and she glances over her shoulder. “Corey’s on break. I’ll be back.”

She rushes away and a sudden tingling sensation dances along my neckline and draws my attention to the edge of the pastry bar to my left. My lips part in surprise at the incredibly sexy man sitting a few feet away, and not just any incredibly sexy man, but the same man whose been haunting my thoughts almost as much as Rebecca these past twenty-four hours. Chris Merit is here. I can’t believe it. My stomach does a crazy butterfly flutter as my eyes meet his, and I see amusement in his expression. Not only is he here, I know he’s been watching me, and I have no idea how long he’s been here.

Why didn’t he come over? Why isn’t he coming over now? Should I go to him?

“I’m back,” Ava declares before I can decide what to do next, but I can barely pull my eyes from Chris. When I finally do, he’s still watching me. I can feel it in every inch of my body. I am so hyper-sensitive to this man I cannot focus on what Ava is saying. There is only Chris.





Chapter Nine





The bells on the coffee shop door chime but I barely hear them. I’m still looking at Chris and he’s still looking at me. His eyes are warm and I am warmer. I’ve known plenty of good looking men, but this one affects me beyond good looks, he sets every nerve I own to tingling.

“He comes here almost every day,” Ava whispers, and my gaze jerks to hers. I glance beyond her and see her employee has returned.

“You mean Chris Merit?” I ask, hungry for what insights into the artist she might share with me.

She nods. “There’s something about him, aye?”

“Aye,” I agree wholeheartedly.

“It’s the mystery I think. No matter how I try, I can’t draw him into a conversation of any substance. Well, that, and let’s just face it, the man makes denim and leather look as edible as chocolate.”

The bells ding again and a group enters the building. Ava sighs. “Regretfully I must attend the counter. We’ll have to chat later.”

I muster a smile, still feeling Chris’s stare, still tingling all over. “I suppose that steals my excuse to put off my homework.”

“Homework,” she repeats and rolls her eyes. “Mark really is the proverbial principal with a ruler in his hand. I feel sorry for his employees. How about lunch one day this week? We can set it up before you leave.”

“Yes, great,” I agree without hesitation. Ava seems quite nice and surely she knew Rebecca. Knows, I correct silently. There is no past tense. Rebecca is fine. “I’d like that.”

My cell phone rings and Ava scurries off to help her customer who has now morphed into several more. I dig my phone from my purse and forget everything but the call when I see Ella’s number. ”Ella?” I answer excitedly.

The line crackles with electricity. “Sara!”

“Ella?!”

More crackling.

“I’m okay. Travel....” crackle. “...am... road trip...beautiful...” More crackling and then nothing. The line is dead.

I sigh and set the phone down next to my computer, glaring at the device where it rests. Why has hearing Ella’s voice, confirming she is safe, not brought the comfort it should? I’m worried about her beyond reason. Everything just feels so...off.

“Is everything okay?”

I look up and blink in surprise to find Chris standing in front of my table and the worries of moments before are temporarily banked. His light blondish brown hair is mussed up, like he’s been running his hands through it and he’s wearing a dark blue snug-fitting t-shirt and dark blue jeans. Unlike Mark, he is not classically good looking, but more raw male hotness. He looks scrumptious and add to that how sexy his talent is to me, and I am suddenly more self-conscious than ever. I try to reassure myself I’ve done nothing ridiculous and foolish that he might have bore witness to. I’m fairly certain I inhaled the volcanic muffin in a rather unladylike fashion.

“Okay?” I ask, my voice raspy, affected. I am so incapable of playing it cool with this man, or really any, for that matter, but this one more than most.

“You looked like the call upset you.”

“Oh no,” I assure him quickly, and it hits me that not only was he watching me, he isn’t shy about admitting it. “My friend was calling from Paris, and we had a bad connection. I really wanted to hear how she was doing.” I seize the opportunity to find out how long Chris is in town. “Didn’t I read that you live in Paris?”

He motions to the seat. “Can I sit?”

“Yes. Of course. I should have offered.”

“And yes,” he says, settling into the chair across from me. “I own a place in Paris but I split my time between here and there. San Francisco stirs my creativity. I can’t stay away long.”