cheek. “What, no coffee?”
“Give me a second, Chief. I was only born with two hands.” She waved her hands in the air as she walked back to the counter. Yanking forks from the silverware jar, she simultaneously picked up coffee mugs with two fingers and then swiped the half-full coffee pot with her free hand and made her way back. She filled each cup, before placing the nearly empty pot on the table, and slid onto the seat across from Sean. She offered him one of the two forks still in her hand.
“You make that seem like a ballet. Perfectly choreographed. I would have dropped the forks, at least.”
“Years of restaurant service. Trust me. You have to be able to balance a stock pot on your nose in some of the kitchen spaces I’ve worked. You get used to having as much in your hands as you do on the prep counter.” She depressed the nozzle and a mound of frothy, white cream dressed her brownie. She took a bite allowing the chocolate to soothe the rough edges of the day.
Sean leaned back in his chair with his coffee cup in hand. His watchful gaze rested upon her as he tilted the mug for a deep drink.
The butterflies, long quiet, began to flutter their wings and she felt the sudden rise of heat to her face. She shifted the lukewarm cup of coffee in her hand. She couldn’t blame pink cheeks on the mug.
Stupid blushing. She was never quite comfortable being the focus of someone’s undivided attention.
He set his cup down and leaned back in his chair. “So, what’s this about firing your interns?”
She sighed and traced the rim of her cup. “They went to find the extra sugar in the pantry, but found it between each other instead.”
Sean’s face lit up with a grin worthy of a sixth-grade boy. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. Pretty much firing the interns was the low point of the day, but it never really rebounded from there.” She stopped her tracing and looked him in the eye. “And it started out so well.”
He reached out and gently touched her hand. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
A wave of tingles swam raced over her body with his touch. She dropped her gaze, focusing on the brownie plate between them. “There’s not much more to…”
A loud crash jolted both of them.
Sean jerked his hand away and jumped to his feet as an alarm blared from a near distance. He glanced down at her. “Lock the door behind me.” He yanked his sidearm from his holster. Slamming the front door open, he sprinted across the street to the police station without looking back.
Maggie stood stunned for a moment before she scurried in his wake and flipped the lock closed. Her heart raced and her thoughts slammed through her mind in a mass of chaos as she watched Sean.
He charged into the police station as smoke billowed out the front corner. In moments, township fire trucks and county sheriff vehicles swarmed the area, blocking off Main Street.
Maggie swallowed deep breaths, trying to deter the fear that was nipping at her. Lord, please keep him safe. For countless minutes she observed the flurry of activity as firefighters hurried into the station and cops taped off the city block. She hoped to see Sean emerge soon. She knew they were nothing more than business associates, maybe borderline friends, but she would feel responsible, if his being near her brought disaster.
The back door! She streaked across the café. She barreled through the connecting doorway and skidded to a stop by the back entrance. Testing the lock, calm washed over her. She must have locked it earlier in the afternoon when the interns left. Turning her back, she slid against the smooth, metal surface and dropped to the floor.
Wrapping her arms around her knees, she huddled in a tight ball and tried to regain her control. She willed the tears ready to spill to retreat. Sucking in a deep breath she counted in her head. 1…2…3…4…5…
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Her head shot up and she stared straight ahead; her entire body shook like a tuning
“Give me a second, Chief. I was only born with two hands.” She waved her hands in the air as she walked back to the counter. Yanking forks from the silverware jar, she simultaneously picked up coffee mugs with two fingers and then swiped the half-full coffee pot with her free hand and made her way back. She filled each cup, before placing the nearly empty pot on the table, and slid onto the seat across from Sean. She offered him one of the two forks still in her hand.
“You make that seem like a ballet. Perfectly choreographed. I would have dropped the forks, at least.”
“Years of restaurant service. Trust me. You have to be able to balance a stock pot on your nose in some of the kitchen spaces I’ve worked. You get used to having as much in your hands as you do on the prep counter.” She depressed the nozzle and a mound of frothy, white cream dressed her brownie. She took a bite allowing the chocolate to soothe the rough edges of the day.
Sean leaned back in his chair with his coffee cup in hand. His watchful gaze rested upon her as he tilted the mug for a deep drink.
The butterflies, long quiet, began to flutter their wings and she felt the sudden rise of heat to her face. She shifted the lukewarm cup of coffee in her hand. She couldn’t blame pink cheeks on the mug.
Stupid blushing. She was never quite comfortable being the focus of someone’s undivided attention.
He set his cup down and leaned back in his chair. “So, what’s this about firing your interns?”
She sighed and traced the rim of her cup. “They went to find the extra sugar in the pantry, but found it between each other instead.”
Sean’s face lit up with a grin worthy of a sixth-grade boy. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. Pretty much firing the interns was the low point of the day, but it never really rebounded from there.” She stopped her tracing and looked him in the eye. “And it started out so well.”
He reached out and gently touched her hand. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
A wave of tingles swam raced over her body with his touch. She dropped her gaze, focusing on the brownie plate between them. “There’s not much more to…”
A loud crash jolted both of them.
Sean jerked his hand away and jumped to his feet as an alarm blared from a near distance. He glanced down at her. “Lock the door behind me.” He yanked his sidearm from his holster. Slamming the front door open, he sprinted across the street to the police station without looking back.
Maggie stood stunned for a moment before she scurried in his wake and flipped the lock closed. Her heart raced and her thoughts slammed through her mind in a mass of chaos as she watched Sean.
He charged into the police station as smoke billowed out the front corner. In moments, township fire trucks and county sheriff vehicles swarmed the area, blocking off Main Street.
Maggie swallowed deep breaths, trying to deter the fear that was nipping at her. Lord, please keep him safe. For countless minutes she observed the flurry of activity as firefighters hurried into the station and cops taped off the city block. She hoped to see Sean emerge soon. She knew they were nothing more than business associates, maybe borderline friends, but she would feel responsible, if his being near her brought disaster.
The back door! She streaked across the café. She barreled through the connecting doorway and skidded to a stop by the back entrance. Testing the lock, calm washed over her. She must have locked it earlier in the afternoon when the interns left. Turning her back, she slid against the smooth, metal surface and dropped to the floor.
Wrapping her arms around her knees, she huddled in a tight ball and tried to regain her control. She willed the tears ready to spill to retreat. Sucking in a deep breath she counted in her head. 1…2…3…4…5…
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Her head shot up and she stared straight ahead; her entire body shook like a tuning
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