Mica by Ronin Winters Page A

tone that was totally so the ladies wouldn’t overhear and not because she was trying to flirt. “You should see them before they have their tea.”
    He leaned closer as well, his gaze falling on her mouth for a half second before rising up to meet her own. “They’re that desperate for chamomile?”
    “More like for the shot of whiskey they add.”
    Then the unexpected. He threw his head back and laughed in a way she’d never imagined him capable of. He was always so stoic, and this…this was so out of character, and for a moment all internal thought was drowned out by that deep laugh and the underside of his exposed throat, that line which separated his beard from bare skin visible, and then all that existed was the desire to lick .
    Before she could act on that impulse, Mrs. Reynolds came up. Mrs. Reynolds was a curmudgeon, set in her ways…okay, she was a bitch. But with the tea shop still so new, Sophie could not afford any negative reviews, and Mrs. Reynolds was the type to be vicious in destroying anything that displeased her, so the nasty comments were shrugged off and the service was still always exemplary. “Sophie, I need water and one of them fiber muffins of yours.”
    Strange, Mrs. Reynolds was not one to do any work herself, usually preferring to have Sophie and Jo running back and forth for her innumerable demands. Then the mystery solved itself as Mrs. Reynolds asked, “How’s that diet of yours coming?”
    Her face heated, and right now, looking at her lumberjack was impossible. She couldn’t bear to see the man’s blue eyes lit with sympathy, or second-hand embarrassment on her behalf.
    The old woman continued on. “Too many conveniences, that’s the problem. It’s too easy for you today with your fast food and your computers. It was more work when I was younger. Of course, we also wouldn’t let ourselves get big. We knew boundaries. We knew when it was time to stop. No control anymore…”
    “Yes, Mrs. Reynolds,” Sophie cut in, handing her the items. “Anything else I can get you?”
    It looked as if the old woman was struggling to come up with something, some excuse so she could continue to stay, but she turned and left without another word.
    His arrival was the highlight of her day, but right now, Sophie wanted him gone, because there was no way she could even begin to try to forget that exchange while he was here. She went back to getting his order ready with no more interaction, handing it to him and ignoring his attempt to get her to look at him as he paid. “Have a good day,” and hopefully the smile she had on her face as she said it didn’t look as forced as it felt.
    The chime signaled he’d left, and she went back to cleaning. It was her own fault. She was the one who had been getting ridiculous, fawning over a good customer like a celebrity crush. She needed to leave the poor man alone and stop acting like an idiot. He’d been kind to humor her, but it was unfair that she’d been acting up around him.
    Jo came back after the man went out of the store, the knitting group no longer looking over. “He laughed? I about fell over.”
    Not now. She couldn’t handle any talk right now. “Jo, leave the guy alone.”
    “What? What happened?” Jo’s attention was immediately on her, and she halted Sophie when she made a move to go into the back. “Did he say something to you?”
    “ No . Not like that. It’s just…wrong. It’s not fair to be talking about him like we’ve been.”
    Jo looked confused, but what would Jo know about it? Jo was tomboy gorgeous, and had her pick of men or women. Jo could never understand how stupid it was for someone like Sophie to imagine herself with someone like him .
    There came a point when the fantasy went from a cute way to spend a couple hours daydreaming to become a reminder how pathetic such thoughts were.
    She was a grown-up, an entrepreneur with commitments and responsibilities.
    She was also a realist. She’d lived in this