Day 1

I walked into the coffee shop, the only one in town, to find it as usual crowded. I ordered my French Vanilla cappuccino, getting strange looks from those standing behind me. I smirked at those closest to say excuse me for not being complicated and liking things simple. I asked for one of their insanely tasty cinnamon rolls, my typical lunch.

I turned around with my tasty treats and scanned the shop to see if anyone had vacated a table. Nope. There was one empty seat, and the guy sitting assumedly alone was so engrossed in his newspaper, I doubted he’d mind. His back was to me, all I could see from this angle was he had nice hair. It was thick brown hair, long enough to run your fingers through, long enough to hang in his eyes ever so slightly, long enough to curl around his collar. Either he liked it that way or he was always late on haircuts. Either way I didn’t care, I needed a seat and the one at his table was the only one empty.

“Excuse me?” I asked only to be stopped short at the man who looked up at me. He had a face to stop traffic, a face you would create in your dirtiest, sexiest fantasy. His deep blue eyes looked up at me, instantly friendly and even though I hadn’t looked down yet to see his smile, I knew it was there.

“Yes,” he said in a rich deep voice, and my eyes drifted down and followed each movement of those lips. I mentally shook myself. Good lord, what was wrong with me.

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, it’s all yours,” he said giving me a big warm smile that I couldn’t help but return.

“Do you mind if I sit with you, all the tables are full?” I asked shyly.

“I don’t mind at all,” he said and he pushed the chair away from the table for me.

“Thank you, so much,” I said. I took the seat, arranged my purse and my items on the table before grabbing my notebook. Yes one of those blank paper books that you write in with a utensil called a pen. It’s a lost art, I know.

I had every intention of ignoring this hot tasty man in front of me, but it was hard. I’d take a sip of my coffee, look up to see him watching me. I watched as he took a drink of his, noticing how he held the cup to his kissable lips, even after he’d taken a sip. How his lip would catch a little when he did remove it. I pinched off a piece of cinnamon roll, and I looked up to see him watch me lick the stickiness from my fingers.

We both laughed then, he winked at me and went back to his newspaper. I tried to ignore him, and finish jotting down the tidbits for the latest article I was working on.

“You don’t see that much anymore,” he said making me jump. I looked up to see him motion toward my notebook.

I giggled, “No, its sad isn’t it? In about 10 years no one will remember how to write on anything but a computer or cell.”

“More like 5,” he laughed. I sit back in my chair a little. You know when you’re in a room and you hear a laugh and something about it makes you find the source? He had one of those laughs. A real honest to goodness laugh.

“I’m an optimist,” I said with a shrug.

“I’m Paul,” he said.

“I’m Erin.”

He glanced at his watch and I saw his disappointment at what it said, “Damn, lunch breaks get shorter and shorter.”

“Tell me about it,” I said taking a sip.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Erin,” he said, and held his hand out to me. I took it, expecting a typical shake, but he held my hand in his for a few seconds, “I hope to see you again.”

“Me too,” I said. He dropped my hand, gathered his things, and with a lingering smile he walked out of the shop.

I sat there staring out the window, not wanting to go back to work. Not wanting to do anything but run after the man I just met and get his number. But I didn’t. I finished my lunch, and begrudgingly returned to the office.

The afternoon dragged by in one bored ass moment after another. By the time I got home, I had a headache and just wanted to climb into bed.

I locked the my door and made my way toward the kitchen. Without pausing, I dropped my purse, kicked off my shoes, put the keys on the counter, grabbed the bottle of wine from the fridge and went to draw me a bubble bath. 

As I settled down into the hot sudsy water, I pictured the tall slice of sexy I met today.

“Mmm,” I sighed closing my eyes.

I could see him clearly, his deep blue eyes gazing at me while I licked the cinnamon roll off of my fingers. He had a dimple in his chin, not a cleft, a dimple. As if an angel poked his chin before he was born. It was the sexiest chin I had ever seen. His lips were full, soft, tantalizing. His jaw, nose, cheek bones and forehead were all very strong as if created from clay. I could almost picture the fingers as they smoothed down the valley between his nose and those lips. As they sculpted his forehead and the ridge above his eyes. And that jaw, with its shadow of whiskers that begged to be nibbled. So perfectly smooth, so perfectly crafted.

I smiled as his face floated in my imagination, I’m not the best at remembering faces, but his was a face that stayed with you. As I pictured all the lovely things those lips could do to me, my hand lazily made its way down my chest, and into the water.