Читать книгу Gathered Up - Annabeth Albert - Страница 11

Chapter 2

“Fiber and color should match your mood. Don’t underestimate the power of a cushy cotton to relax you or a sturdy wool to invigorate you. Likewise, look for spots of color, even on your darkest days.”—Evren’s Yarnings

The third time Evren came into the shop for an Americano, extra sweet, extra shot, I had the to-go cup waiting before he got to the front of the line. It was late morning, so I wasn’t the only one on duty. Miracle of miracles, I hadn’t caught the twins’ plague and had made it through the full week. Audrey rang him up, but I waited until he was right in front of my end of the counter to put the drink up. Yes, I totally was hard up enough that I took pleasure in tiny little things like the brush of his hand against mine or the way he smiled with gratitude or how he always took the first sip before he left the shop, wincing a bit at the temperature, throat muscles working…

Fuck. He was sexy as hell. And he always took a moment to greet me by name and ask how my day was. Same question every day, but that small courtesy was almost sexier than the rest of him put together.

“Thank you, Brady,” he said as he grabbed that day’s drink. As usual, his eyes lingered longer than strictly necessary on my face. Man was going to give me a reason to take up shaving and hair product again. “I really should start bringing a reusable cup, yes?”

“We sell some.” I motioned at the display near the entrance. “You could knit a cozy for it, maybe?”

“Maybe I will.” His eyes went all thoughtful and his fingers drummed against his cup, like I’d been serious and not teasing. “Not a bad idea at all. Actually, what do you think about a cozy contest?”

“A cozy contest?”

“For Knit Night. I’ll put up a flyer. We’ll see how creative people can get.” Something about the way he said creative made my mind go to dirty places. But then, his voice pretty much always had that effect on me.

“I can probably get my boss to donate a mug for the winner,” I said. Randy was a bit unpredictable, and not as caring as Chris, Randy’s ex-partner, who’d managed this location for as long as I’d been here before moving away with his new boyfriend last year. However, Randy was a keen businessman, and he’d see the value in such a promotion. “So you’re coming to more Knit Night events?”

“Of course.” He raised an eyebrow. Even his eyebrows were refined and elegant, dark slashes with a slight upturn. “And I think a contest like this will be just what Mira needs. Something to make her smile.”

“One of the ladies said it’s cancer?” I asked. Hell, I’d take up needles or hooks or whatever myself if I thought it would help Mira.

He nodded. “Pancreatic. She’s started treatment, but…” He drifted off with a helpless gesture.

Even I knew that was a largely fatal cancer. “Fuck,” I said, then remembered I was at work. “Sorry. I just mean—”

“No, that’s exactly how I feel. Fuck.”

“So you’ll be around a while, then?” I asked.

“As long as it takes to get her on her feet again. Which we will do. We do not care about such things as odds,” he said firmly.

“She’ll beat it,” I said, forcing some conviction into my words. And if I felt a slight twinge at the news that Evren’s stay might be temporary…well, such things were better ignored anyway.

“I believe so. I had to quit my job in Brooklyn when they wouldn’t give me time off, but getting her better is more important.” He sounded a bit wistful about the job, further underscoring that he’d be moving on soon enough. “I’m a freelance knitwear designer now, so I can work just about anywhere, but my main job is going to be keeping her well and keeping the shop running until she’s ready to take it back over.”

“Good luck,” I said, because I wasn’t really sure what else I could say…or do. On impulse, I grabbed another to-go cup. “Wait a sec. Let me make her a chai.”

“Oh, that is so kind of you, Brady, but I just made her Turkish coffee a little while ago. Her appetite, it is not that good this week.”

I paused with the cup still in my hand. “Wait. You made coffee. And then came over here?”

“Good-bye, Brady. Do have a nice afternoon.” He gave me a little wave as he backed out of the shop.

Sneaky, sneaky man. Whom I had absolutely no time for but who had me smiling all afternoon long.

The next day, Evren brought over a flyer that he tacked to the community message board. On it was a photo of a cup cozy with a replica of Iplik’s logo. He fished the real deal from his bag and showed it to me.

“You whipped this up in one day?” I fingered the soft, thick yarn.

He shrugged. “Mira watched a marathon of some teen paranormal show. There was a lot of time to pass.”

I chuckled at the image of Mira, who had to be around sixty, desperate to catch the next episode of some teen angst drama. “Nice. You’re a good nephew.”

“She’s a better aunt.” Some distant sadness passed in his eyes, there then gone before I could suss it out. “You can keep the cozy if you want. I’m going to tweak the design before next week.”

“Thanks. You know, for a guy who isn’t planning on sticking around, you seem rather…invested in Knit Night.”

“It is important to my aunt.” He waved his hand like it was a simple matter, when I knew full well that cheerfully putting the preferences of others first wasn’t easy. I loved how his hands moved as he talked—more expressive than most people but full of confidence, not drama.

“Mind if I give this to my sister?” I asked. If possible, Renee drank more coffee than I did, which was partly my fault, because I’d been slipping her free coffee since she was in high school. And she was a die-hard environmentalist who wouldn’t dream of using a paper cup. She deserved way more than a cozy after a week of sick-kid duty, but I knew that adding it to her favorite reusable cup would make her smile.

“I would be delighted.” He grinned at me, the most playful smile I’d seen from him yet, and it carried me all through the weekend.

* * * *

I had a plan when Knit Night came around the following week. Everyone was healthy, so I’d told Renee I might be a bit late home, and she hadn’t grumbled as much as she did sometimes. I’d spent a little extra time getting ready, too—putting my favorite small wood gauges in my ears and pulling back my hair into a neater ponytail than my usual messy man bun. Trimmed the beard down from mountain man to quietly hipster. I might not have time for someone like Evren, but that didn’t stop a guy from wishing.

Randy had blessed me with a second barista for the evening shift for once, so I wasn’t so slammed with the rush of ladies and had more time to ogle Evren, who was wearing a loosely knit white cardigan. On any other dude it would have looked delicate and feminine, but on him it looked as regal as a military uniform. He admired each cozy with the same enthusiasm, even the ones that were a mess of knots and glitter.

“Brady, come judge,” he called after the initial rush was done and he’d laid out all the cup cozies on a table.

“Which is yours?” I hissed, stepping closer than absolutely necessary. I didn’t want to accidentally declare him the winner, because he’d told me earlier to take him out of the running. But mainly I just wanted the excuse to see what he smelled like. The scent was something I wasn’t expecting—holly and pine. It was early spring and he smelled like a Christmas tree farm I’d visited long ago. And wool. It was a very comforting smell, and I had to stop myself from leaning in to him.

“That one,” Evren said in a low voice and pointed. I should have guessed. It looked like interlocking Moroccan tiles—like something you’d see in fancy restaurant bathroom. Utterly elegant with a masculine vibe. Utterly him.

“I love it,” I said.

“And that one.” He indicated the one next to it, identical to the cozy I’d given Renee, except he’d done something to make the logo stand out in relief more. “Pick any others.”

“Ah.” I studied the rest of the table. “My second favorite is that one.” I pointed at one done to look like a little zebra, complete with ears on the sides and a tail in back.

“I concur.” He smiled, and something passed between us, something so palpable I could almost grab it with both hands.

The winner was an elfin young woman who wore a zebra-inspired cardigan, hat, and fingerless mitts. At least she was committed to a theme. I got her a mug and returned to the counter.

“I’m so happy Randy asked me to work tonight,” Audrey said, touching my sleeve. Her blueish-purple hair shook as she spoke, and she had this habit of touching me or brushing against me while trading places behind the counter that I really didn’t like. “He was so sweet and gave me some extra hours at the Northwest store next week because I’m saving for my summer trip to Greece.”

Yup. That sounded like Randy. He knew I needed the hours in the worst way, but he liked to play favorites with the baristas of both genders who got flirty—as well as the ones who could be the most flexible with the schedule. I didn’t flirt, and I could no longer be as available as I once was.

I was, however, a damn good barista, and I really needed Evren to order something other than an Americano so I could show off my skills with flair. I’d won a regional contest with my ability to make pictures in cappuccino foam as well as other skills, and if all went well, I’d be heading to the national coffee championships in a few months. We needed that win—Renee, the kids, and I were crammed into a tiny two-bedroom apartment. The cash prize of the contest would let us get enough float in the bank account for a bigger rental.

Yet another reason why I shouldn’t be daydreaming about Evren or reworking the plan I’d come up with earlier. I needed to focus on the kids, the contest, and keeping it all together. But that didn’t stop me from grinning big when Evren came back for a second drink and a big cookie.

“I’m hoping to get Mira to eat part of this,” he said as he paid. “They said her appetite would come and go, but I’m having such a hard time getting her to eat anything.”

“You have to get her home after Knit Night?” I asked. I already knew Mira lived above her store, and that she owned her building. The Alberta gossip loop kept close track of who bought, who rented, and who was looking to sell to one of the higher-end places moving in as the area became more and more gentrified.

“Yes.” Evren rubbed his lightly stubbled jaw. “She’s probably exhausted even though she’ll never admit it.”

“You ever go out again after she’s settled?” I asked, sticking my toe in waters I had no business swimming in.

“I have not yet.” Evren didn’t sound disinterested and his eyes watched me intently. My heart beat double-time.

“You haven’t had much chance to explore the neighborhood. I was wondering if you might want to grab a beer—”

“Evren! How do you do a cable again?” A busty woman with half a sweater on giant needles interrupted us.

He gave me a pained expression, and his mouth moved like he wasn’t sure who to reply to.

“It’s okay. You can get back to me.” I grabbed a rag and started wiping down the counter, freeing him to answer the knitting question. I had a feeling the electricity zooming between us was mutual, but I had no way of knowing how open he was about his sexuality and didn’t want to presume.

As I was watching Evren help the knitter, Audrey came up from behind and wrapped her arms around me.

“What the heck?” I stepped to the side and kept my voice low.

“Oh you. I was just having the best daydream, thinking about the last time we worked late together.” She touched my neck with a hand that was far too familiar. Her voice wasn’t a whisper, nor was the memory she alluded to welcome. “I was thinking about a repeat?”

“I’ve got plans,” I said curtly.

“Bah. Another time.” She flitted away. She wasn’t a bad person by any means, but she did have the worst timing on earth. Evren glanced over at me and frowned. More than just irritation, there was disappointment in his expression. Fuck. He’d heard or seen too much. A heavy feeling descended on me, one that didn’t lift as the knitters started drifting away. Evren started straightening tables, which was not his job, the perfect excuse for me to leave the counter and go help him.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, moving some chairs out of the way. The ladies always ended up shoving most of the tables together and pulling chairs every which way.

“No, it is fine,” he said as he straightened a table. “We should be courteous to the shop.”

“Appreciated,” I said. He wasn’t looking at me, and I had a feeling I knew what the answer would be, but I had to ask anyway. “So, a beer?”

“Thanks, but…no.” That pained expression was back. He glanced over at Audrey, who was cleaning the machines behind the bar.

Hell. “I’m not…” I moved my hands restlessly. “I’m not involved with anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. And the invitation was totally open as friends, too.”

“You were involved, though?” Evren kept his voice low. “You and the female barista?”

“We…collided a few months back.” That was the best description of it really. We’d been working late together, she’d been flirting heavily, and I’d been almost a year without touch from either gender. She was vivacious and knew exactly what she wanted—something I found hard to resist in either gender. But she’d caught me at an exceptionally weak moment, as I’d left my random hookup days far behind, or so I’d thought. “Nothing repeated. Nothing serious.”

Evren’s frown deepened. “I do not usually do casual. Or bisexual.”

“You don’t do bi?” I gaped at him, my jaw seriously hanging open. I could get not doing casual—more power to him. If my life had any room in it, which it most certainly did not, I wouldn’t do casual anymore either. But bi? What the fuck? Bi erasure was so five years ago. Ev needed to join this decade.

“Let’s just say I have my reasons. And I don’t mean to be rude—”

“But you are.” I shoved a chair in with more force than strictly necessary. “It was just a beer, man.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Evren shook his head sadly. “Good night, Brady.”

Fuck this. I finished the rest of the closing with a lot of stomping around and minimal talk with Audrey. I was being ridiculous. I really had no time for someone like Evren, especially not someone with bizarre prejudices, but damn if I wasn’t more than a little put out.