Ask Me Why(7)

Friday nights used to be exciting, a celebration after a long work week. There was always something to look forward to. Now this is just another unremarkable point in a long line, slowly creeping and dragging. What do I have planned? A whole lot of nothing.

The Dapper is calling my name, loud and clear. I’m a diehard regular at the diner next door. Most of the time they know my order before I do. My stomach rumbles and gurgles while I think about dinner. I’m in the mood for a juicy burger and extra salty fries. Usually I’m a light eater, but my body is craving more sustenance. Burning those extra calories has left me famished.

I check the clock again. Thirty minutes until close. I can survive that long. If only a customer or two would come in and take my mind off food.

As if hearing my silent plea, the door swings open. The bell calls out, and a familiar little figure zooms inside. I peer around the display case that’s obstructing my view. Ollie sends me a beaming smile and my hunger pains are instantly forgotten.

Oh, this kid is going to break so many hearts when he’s older.

“Hi, Miss Braelyn.” Ollie strides up to me like we’re the best of pals. Maybe we already are.

My depleted energy seems to spring back. I give him a wave. “Hey, Ollie. Glad to see you again.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

I shake my head. “Nonsense. You’re right on time. Is Mary with you?”

His forehead creases. “Uh, no. She went home. We would’ve been here sooner, but my dad was working.” Ollie hitches a small thumb over his shoulder.

That’s when the door opens with a bang. A tall man stomps in with the power of a hurricane. Is the ground shaking? If it is, I barely notice.

Holy. Hotness.

Who ordered the sex in a suit?

The guy’s laser focus is on the boy beside me so he doesn’t notice my slack jaw. He’s tall, but not overly bulky. His thick hair is styled in a messy sort of way, and I want to smooth the unruly flyaways. A five-o’clock shadow dusts his jaw, the first signs of stubble barely visible. The contrast between his light eyes and dark features is hypnotic. An impeccable suit covers his broad frame, cut to fit his wide shoulders and trim waist perfectly. He could easily sell this look. Hell, after one glance I’m ready to buy it off him.

He’s fucking lickable.

“Ollie, I told you to wait. Selective listening isn’t cute anymore. Why do you insist on running ahead of me?” The stranger’s boom ricochets around us.

I blink, and the haze evaporates. What the actual eff was that? I look down at the child in question and wait for him to answer. He’s squirming all about. Ollie barely gives his father a second glance, too busy studying the assortment of candy on display. But no worries. I’m giving this man more attention than he needs anyway. I can hardly take my peepers off him.

Ollie lingers for another beat, then quickly dashes to the taffy bins. I see him move from one to the next in my peripheral vision.

“Need a camera?”

I startle at the harsh growl. “Huh?”

“Then you can take a picture.” His frosty blue eyes narrow on me, and I’m frozen in place.

“Excuse me?” Why is my voice so breathy?

“It’ll last longer.” He raises a dark brow.

Clarity seeps into my stupor, and the urge to tuck tail streaks through me. But I don’t. I raise my chin and openly appraise him. “I like your suit.”

“It’s custom fit.”

“Looks that way.”

He crosses his arms and stands straighter. “You’re not my type, taffy girl.”

I fight the urge to scratch my temple, being stumped again. “Okay?”

“Stare all you want. It’ll get you nowhere.” He points between us. “Never gonna happen.”

For a moment, all I can do is gape at him. I feel my face go up in flames. Is he for freaking real?

“I w-wasn’t… no, I didn’t mean,” I sputter. “I’m not hitting on you.”

His smirk is devilish. “Save it for the judge, sugar. I get it.”

Before I can defend myself, Ollie zips toward us and smiles at me. “Do you like my dad?”

Everything inside of me skids to a stop. I pop my mouth open, but nothing comes out. My throat is a tight fist, and swallowing is a challenge. How the hell do I respond to that?

I tug at the collar of my shirt. “Uh, well, we haven’t really met. I don’t even know his name.”

Ollie’s gaze bounces between us. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Nope.” There’s no hesitation. Throwing this cocky dick under the bus is an easy decision.

The ass glares at me. “We didn’t get that far.”

Ollie shakes a finger at his dad. “That’s not polite. You’re supposed to do introductions first. That’s what you taught me.”

He remains silent, thoroughly scolded by a child. Ollie huffs loudly. I lift a hand to cover my growing smile. Something tells me this imposing man wouldn’t appreciate my humor.

“Brance Stone,” he finally offers. A weaker woman might wither under that icy stare. Too bad for him, I’m all out of shits to give.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Braelyn Miller.” I plaster on an extra wide grin for good measure.

A muscle jumps in his jaw. “Likewise.”