Casting Stones (Stones Duet #1) (2 page)

While he consumed his breakfast, I watched him from afar. I watched his every move. I watched him remove his cap and run his hands through his dirty blond hair. I watched the way his blue eyes stared into the coffee cup. I watched the way his chest rose and fell with deep sighs. Even through the damp fabric I could tell how sculpted his chest was. Something in me wanted to walk right up to him and lift the short sleeve that covered his right bicep to get a better look at the tribal tat that circles around the hard muscle. When he adjusted his baseball cap so the brim faced backward, I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly perfect his face was. A sun-kissed face was home to luscious lips, a straight nose, ocean blue eyes and a perfectly sculpted jaw. It was the kind of face that comes from a long line of good family genes; it could make a girl forget her own name. Jenna swore that he must’ve been a model, signed with the agency that was doing a photo shoot down by the harbor. He certainly could be; he’s got the height and an incredible body. He is unlike anything I’ve ever seen…at least in person.

I walk over to the register and tap on the keys to ring out a tab. I can feel my heart beat faster as my palms begin to sweat. Using the back of my hand, I swipe across my forehead, checking to see if I’m running a fever because all of a sudden, my body temperature rises and I feel as though I’m on fire. A tingling warm sensation spreads from the ends of my short hair to my toes, hidden in old tattered Nike sneakers. Nonchalantly, I glimpse over and find him looking in my direction. I want to turn to see if anyone is behind me; there’s no possible way he’s looking at me. With a hard gaze and an intense expression marring his handsome face, he captures my attention and holds me hostage.

I swallow nervously but hold his gaze, studying him as if he were the subject in a case study. Using what I’ve learned in my recent classes, I try to gauge what he’s thinking. What’s the deal with the deep pensive stare or the furrowed eyebrows that seem aimed at me? I wrack my brain wondering if I’ve ever seen him outside of the diner. The answer is a definitive no.Blinking lazily, he finally wields the proverbial white flag and surrenders, breaking our intense staring contest and turns his attention back to what’s left of his breakfast.

Shane

“SIR, YES, SIR.
I understand. Stay close behind.” The young man stood eye to eye with me, raising his deep voice to be a man, to be what was expected of him, to be all that he could be, but he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes.

“
Warm up?” an impatient voice sighs, distracting me away from the bottom of the brown coffee mug. It’s the shade of brown of dry parched dirt which seems to continue for hundreds of miles with no end in sight.

As the voice fills my ears, I slowly look up realizing where I am and look around the small diner in a bit of a haze. I swivel on the vinyl covered stool and prop my elbows up along the long veneer countertop. I blink away the memory, hoping it will take me far away from the place that haunts me. “Do you want more coffee or not?” she asks again, clearly agitated at my lack of response.

Something about her no nonsense tone reels me in and pulls me back to reality. Just as I open my mouth to speak to the young woman with short, light blond hair she turns away from me, angling her head to answer a question from someone I can’t see. One hand is on her hip while the other holds a glass carafe, ready to pour.

I watch her face light up with a smile. “Oh, you say that to all the girls, Mr. Johnson.” With an aged voice I hear him whisper, “But you’re special.” She winks at him and calls him a hopeless romantic. I lean forward to catch a glimpse of the person who made this pretty girl smile like that. The old man, wearing a red T-shirt and a black United States Veterans hat, has got to be well into his eighties. “Get over here you,” she says as she leans over the counter and kisses his cheek. “Thank you, darling.” With a smile on his face, he buries his nose in the newspaper.

She catches me staring at their interaction and I quickly turn away, slightly embarrassed at having witnessed an intimate moment. I wonder briefly if they’re related. He’s old enough to be her grandfather or even her great-grandfather.I blink several times as the memory of my own grandfather comes to mind. Endless summer days on his farm, waking up at the crack of dawn and tending to the animals. Swimming and fishing in the river at the end of the property. Smoking cigarettes and drinking beer behind the old red barn.

“Last chance. Coffee or not?” She places the check next to the white dish where only crumbs remain.

“Sure, why not?” I slide the cup toward her and watch as her petite hand takes the mug by the handle and she fills it with piping, hot fresh coffee. I follow the trail of steam into the air. When it dissipates, I open my mouth to thank her, but she’s gone, already having moved down the long counter to refill other diners’ drinks. Trying to steady my hand, I drink the black coffee in silence and watch her as I listen to the voices that meld into one.

“C’mon, girls. Food’s up! Let’s go!” Curt shouts for someone to pick up the plates that have been sitting in the window cause me look around the fifties-themed diner. Almost every booth is taken by people getting an early start to their day. Business men scroll through their phones while others read the Boston Globe or Wall Street Journal. An elderly couple sits alongside one other in a booth for two. My lips form a small smile when I see him stab his fork into the waffle and feed it to the woman who I presume is his wife.She looks at him, smiles and then leans into his shoulder. In the booth across from them are two women wearing workout clothes. Both are laughing obnoxiously, regaling the events of a party and talking about who left with whom. They point to a young runner who is stretching just outside the window; he seems completely oblivious to their ogling. The woman with dark red hair catches me looking at her but turns away shyly. Her friend, the woman with short, curly light brown hair, glances over her shoulder, pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and smiles seductively at me.

“Hi,” she mouths.

I offer a tight smile and return to my coffee. I don’t think what she’s offering is on the menu here at Lenny’s Luncheonette. I scoff quietly at her unnecessary and definitely unwanted advances. A quick fuck with some random woman is the last thing I need right now.

Realizing the time, I look at the check, grab a bill out of my pocket, slap it down onto the counter and slide them both away from me. I tip back the last of my tepid coffee and stand, knowing that I need to catch the next bus if I want to make it to work on time. Even though the students don’t start for another few weeks or so, I’ve got a shitload of schedules to finish and curriculum meetings everyday this week.

“All set?” the same voice asks, but I notice the impatience is now somewhat gone, replaced by a softer tone.

“I am. Thanks.”

She reaches for the bill as I pass it to her. Our fingers graze slightly and my eyes flash to hers. What the hell is that? A tingle, a current of energy, moves from my fingertips straight through me. It feels as if I’ve touched static electricity except it doesn’t hurt. My hand isn’t the only part of my body that feels it as my dick immediately stiffens. Thank God my dress pants will shield this unwarranted and untimely erection.

Big, green eyes I hadn’t really noticed before now fill with surprise as she looks at me.

“I’ll be right back.” She smiles weakly and turns away, walking in the direction of the cash register. I don’t know why I continue to stand there, watching her. I feel like a creep as my eyes travel down her petite body and that nice round ass that fills out her tight, khaki shorts. I drag my eyes down her tanned legs. I swallow hard and force my dick to remain at ease, forbidding it from standing at complete full attention.

“Here you go.” She smiles as she hands back the change in the form of a few straightened bills and coins, topped with a few mints. I extend my hand, but pull it back when I reach into my pocket to retrieve my vibrating phone. She stands there for a moment, waiting, before she simply places several dollars and two pennies on the counter.

“That was for you.” I say, pressing the button to silence my phone before reaching for the white candy.

One of her thin eyebrows lifts in disbelief. “You’re giving me a fifteen dollar tip for a coffee and a muffin?”

“Yeah.” I answer, not realizing that I gave her a twenty instead of a ten. “You’re good at what you do,” I chuckle, popping the mint into my mouth. I can’t exactly tell her that I made a mistake. I’d kind of look like a cheap asshole.

“I served you coffee. I didn’t give you a lap dance,” she scoffs, narrowing her green eyes as she walks away abruptly.

I’m stunned at her rudeness. Who does she thinks she is?

I glance around looking to see if I’m the butt of a joke. I’m not. Everyone is going about enjoying their breakfast. I want to know what I did to cause her obnoxious reaction. Then I want her to apologize for acting like a bitch to me; it was unwarranted and unjustified. I huff in annoyance at my mental outburst. I look over at the two women who just a little while earlier wanted to seduce me. Both have narrowed eyes pinned on me.
Great.
I’m surrounded by bitchy women.

When my phone starts vibrating again, I reach for it and answer the call from my sister. I push through the door and wait by the bus stop. I listen to my sister ramble on and on about her cheating husband as I look up and down the busy streets of Boston, hoping I didn’t miss the bus. I shift my weight from side to side as the anxiety starts to creep in while my eyes roam around looking for all the people who are staring at me. I glance at the old woman, but she’s watching the kid who’s covered in colorful tattoos and appears to be angry at the world. I look at the young pregnant mother pushing an infant in a small stroller while holding the hand of a toddler. I want to ask her if she knows what birth control is or if she knows who the baby daddies are. Continuously, I search for the eyes I know are on me.

My attention is drawn behind me and I look back through the window of the diner. Standing behind the counter with her arms crossed over her chest, the waitress glares at me with narrowed eyes and a nasty scowl on her face. My sister’s voice fades when I meet the waitress’ eyes. They’re beautiful; even from thirty feet away I can see how green they are. I’ve never seen anything like them before.

“HEY, THANKS MAN
. I’ll let you know.” I shake hands with Eric, the athletic director, after receiving an offer to catch a Red Sox game tonight. Friday nights in Boston can get a little crazy it seems. I’ve only been here for a few weeks and haven’t really gotten out much. After growing up in a house with my sister who always had friends over, listening to music or having slumber parties, I enjoy the solitude living alone offers. I prefer silence as opposed to talking just for the sake of talking. God knows I can’t turn off the voices in my head- no matter how hard I try. So for now I enjoy the peace and quiet in my miniscule, stupidly overpriced apartment.

I walk into the office and greet the secretaries who stop talking immediately as if they’ve been caught talking about something they shouldn’t have. Dana, a tall, voluptuous brunette, blushes and gives Karen a pointed look. The stocky woman purses her lips and rolls her eyes, returning her attention to the computer screen in front of her and mouths something that sounds like, “That’s pathetic.”

“Here you go, Mr. Davis,” Dana stands and saunters over, handing me two large folders with copies of the curriculum meeting notes. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do this. I would’ve copied them.” Her light brown eyes drop to my mouth as I speak.

“I don’t mind. That’s what I’m here for.” She winks as her pouty lips pull back into a seductive smirk and I can’t help wonder what else she’d do for me. My dick wonders, too. Shit! I shake my head quickly to dispel the thoughts of her naked and beneath me. “I’ll be in my office.” What the hell is wrong with me? What I need is to concentrate on work. I don’t need to get sidetracked like I did before. Stay focused. Stick to the plan. I need to think with my head not my dick because the only woman who stirs my dick
and
melts my heart is in love with someone else.