Whisky State of Mind (6 page)

Sky stared at him and hoped her mouth wasn’t hanging open.

“She lit up that room and didn’t even know it. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, standing there in that ridiculous get up of mismatched colors and wild blond hair curling out from beneath that red cap…” He paused and blushed slightly, “you were beautiful.”

Sky swallowed awkwardly still watching him in a stunned kind of silence. She didn’t recall the exact day, because she pretty much wore that same scarf and mittens all winter…she had to, Bella had knitted it for her.

“I came back the next day to see if you turned up and when you did, I came back every day that week.”

She
realized she had to say something, but it actually hurt to try to form some kind of intelligent sentence. “How far out of your way is it?”

“About thirty minutes.”

Sky stared at him. Was this guy for real? He drove thirty minutes out of his way to get coffee from a place just because… “Why
exactly
would you do that?” she asked, wondering if she was somehow misinterpreting this…surely she had to be...this hot, delicious smelling, morsel of a man wouldn’t drive all that way just…

“To see you every morning.”

Hol-eee.

“It’s not as creepy as it sounds,” he offered, sounding hopeful.

If this was some weird-looking guy with a hunchback it would have been very creepy…so did it really make it any
less
creepy just because the guy was good-looking? Serial killers could be good-looking couldn’t they? Come to think of it, she’d never really seen a good-looking serial killer on the news…so maybe it was safe to assume good-looking stalker-type men were not serial killers…

“I promise I’m a good guy. I’m a cop,” he added with a shrug.

If only he knew she’d grown up with the inbuilt distrust of anything to do with the law, he’d realize how that remark was anything but reassuring. Instantly her father’s image popped into mind and her teetering giddy excitement fell flat on its face. He was a cop and her father was the president of a notorious motorcycle club.

“I should have kept my mouth shut. It’s freaked you out hasn’t it
?”

“No,” she said quickly. “No it hasn’t. It’s just…I’m a little surprised.”

“I’ve been trying to ask you out for months.”

“You have?”

He grimaced and dropped his gaze to the table top and began fiddling with the silverware.  “I’ve never been very good when it came to approaching women.”

No freakin
’ way.
“You can’t be serious?”

“It’s true.”

“But you’re hot,” she stopped abruptly and groaned silently. She
did not
just blurt that out loud…but one look at his smirk told her that she had. “You don’t look like the shy type,” she added, clearing her throat.

“I am when it comes to women,” he shrugged. “Anyway, I wanted you to know that you made my mornings.”

“Well, after seeing where I work you can understand why you were kind of the highlight of my day, too.”

“How long have you been working there?”

“Almost twelve months.” It felt like a millennium.

Caleb let out a soft whistle. “Wow, that’s a long time to put up with
that
boss.”

“It’s a long time to imagine sticking a fork into someone repeatedly…and even harder not to actually do it,” she said dryly.

She loved the sound of his deep chuckle. She loved the way his hair did that little curl thing on his forehead and how it was slightly longer on the top and short at the back, it was just begging someone to run her fingers through it.

“I’d say you had remarkable self-control—you’d be surprised how many people don’t control the urge, “he smiled slightly.

For a moment she thought he’d read her mind. “You must see a lot of messed up stuff in your job.”

He shrugged slightly. “I deal with white collar crime mainly at the moment. But I’m aiming for something with a little more action in the future,” he shrugged.

“Action?”

“Armed robbery, narcotics,” he said reaching for his water casually. “Or homicide—that would be my ultimate goal. But I’ve only just made Detective which is pretty good considering my age, so I’m happy to prove myself a little first before I go for the big league.”

“Homicide’s classed as the big league?”

“I guess it depends on the person. A lot of the older guys I’m working with think fraud is the best of the best—outwitting the big wheelers and dealers, tracking down missing funds, tracing illegal tax evasion. I guess it just depends on your personality. I like using my brains, but I’d also like a little more adrenaline, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nothing like the TV cop shows—we don’t run around with our weapons drawn every five minutes,” he grinned and she almost forgot what they were talking about for a minute. “But I’d like to be doing something else within a few years.”

“Wow, you certainly have your five-year plan all mapped out.”

“What about you? What’s your five
-year plan?”

Sky felt her smile slip a little. “I hope to go back to college. At the moment though, I’m just trying to stay on top of things.”

“Go back? Oh, I assumed you were
in
college.”

She didn’t think he meant to sound so surprised, but she felt a twinge of embarrassment. “I had to leave when my grandparents stopped paying my tuition. I couldn’t get a student loan. I had to move out of home, and I needed to work full time to pay rent…but I’m working toward going back to finish my degree.”

“That’s been rough. It’s good that you plan on going back though. Not much of a future in waitressing, is there,” he said with a smile.

She actually agreed with him—it was hard work and the wage was absolute crap, but it was a decent, respectable job and she wasn’t sure she liked his implication that it was somehow beneath her to be doing. Who did he expect to bring him his food tonight? Someone had to do it. But she supposed he was just voicing what even
she
thought—because he was right, she didn’t want to be stuck doing this for any longer than she absolutely had too.

The waitress came over then, and took their order. Sky sat quietly as he gave his order and was relieved that he treated their hostess with polite respect. She’d have had to get up and walk away if he’d been a dick. It was a solidarity thing…a hospitality industry code of honor…and she was very relieved she didn’t have to…in fact the more she thought about it, the more she found herself thinking that maybe she’d be able to overlook it just once…

It would have truly sucked to discover her dream man was a pig.

“So you said you lived with your grandparents?” he asked when the conversation stalled a little after the waitress had left them
.
“You said you had to move out of home. You and your grandparents have a fight?”

“Yeah. They pretty much raised me,” she took a sip of water and carefully replaced the glass on the table. “It was just time that I spread my wings a little. What about you, what’s your family like?”

“I come from a typical Latino family. My mother and grandmother are constantly trying to set me up with a nice girl from my old neighborhood and start a family.”

“You don’t want to be set up?”
she asked.

“I want to choose my own girl,” he said
, holding her gaze with a steadiness that she found both intriguing and a little confronting.  

Sky kept him busy talking about his family and it turned out he was a funny guy. He kept her entertained with stories of blind dates and his siblings
’ equally troubled dating history, with mothers and grandmothers running interference until their meals turned up.

“What about your parents?” he asked, before taking a bite of steak from his fork.

And then the warm, fuzzy feeling went away. “My mother died when I was little. My father…” she faltered a little and saw that he hadn’t missed it. “I went to live with my grandparents and I haven’t seen my dad in years.” His face softened and his chewing slowed as he seemed to mull over her answer. “I’m sorry.”

Sky shrugged one shoulder briefly. “That’s life. I lived with my grandparents until about a year ago. I totally get the whole
overbearing thing…it was time I got out and spread my wings a little.
”

Over the main course she continued to learn a little more about his family and his upbringing. He’d seen his parents struggling to raise their family, and she understood why he was so determined to make something of himself.

They walked the short distance to her apartment, chatting about their favorite music and movies and when her building came in sight, Sky realized she was disappointed that their evening had come to an end.

Or was it?
You could ask him up…look at him!
She tried to ignore the little voice that grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. He
was
extremely doable. God, he was so damn…perfect, she sighed blissfully.

Perfect. The word reverberated inside her mind. The only thing perfect about her was that she was perfectly sure she had a long way to go before she was worthy of perfect! Who was she kidding? What did this guy
, who had the world at his feet, see in her? Maybe Marcy was right…this was a guy who was on his way up his career ladder and had his life worked out to the very last detail…what was he doing with
her?
A waitress with a half-finished degree and a family that put the
dis
into dysfunctional.

“Thank you for dinner…I had a great time,” she murmured, digging in her handbag for keys.

A finger under her chin brought her gaze into line with his and she felt like a deer caught in headlights as she stared helplessly into the twin pools of his dark, sinful, hot-chocolate eyes. “I want to see you again, Sky,” he said softly.

“I…” She started then stopped. The way he was looking at her mouth distracted her, making her lose her train of thought. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered, then froze. 
OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod
she
didn’t
just blurt that out loud…did she? But his deep chuckle told her she
had.

“That’s supposed to be my line,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face and
leaning in to plant a feather-light kiss across her lips.

Her head began to hurt as a flood of conversation broke out between her conscience and her libido. They both agreed he was smokin’ hot, but there was a definite disagreement between his motives. She didn’t think he was a player—far from it, she’d never seen him trying to chat up any women at the coffee shop—and she would have seen that! But Marcy’s words continued to haunt her.

Did she
really
want to be a one-night stand for this guy? Or worse yet—his
fill in
sex until he met the ideal woman who would fit into his life plan? The thought managed to douse what was left of her desire to drag him upstairs and rip his clothes off. Reluctantly, she stepped away from his tempting warmth. 

“Goodnight, Caleb. Thank you again for dinner.”

“Goodnight. Sweet dreams,” he smiled, waiting until she’d fumbled with her keys and managed to open the front door before turning away.

It didn’t seem real, she thought as she climbed the stairs to her apartment, slowly. She’d been daydreaming about this guy for the last few months and now, here she was…she’d gone out to dinner and
kissed
him. Even the brown droopy plant outside her door couldn’t take away from the giddiness of the moment.
She really did need to water that thing soon
.

She unlocked her apartment door and made sure it locked securely behind her. Closing her eyes she dropped her head against the wall and groaned. What an idiot! She had a drop
-dead gorgeous guy who would have happily spent the night with her and what did she do? Run away like a terrified rabbit!

The sound of the buzzer close to her head made her jump. Before she could even press the intercom to answer, it buzzed
angrily a second, then third time. “Alright!” she snapped, pressing the intercom down. “Hello?”

“It’s Sawyer. Let me in,” came the terse reply.

Sawyer? What the hell?
“What do you want?”

“Buzz me in. I need to see you.”

For a moment she glared at the intercom, her finger hovering over the button. What could Sawyer,
pain in the ass
, tough guy, want to see her for at this time of night?

The buzzer screeched at her again and she punched her finger on the button to unlock the front door. “You got five minutes. It’s late,’ she snapped before opening the door.

She stepped back as Sawyer filled the doorway, moving into her hall and closing the door behind him. The other times she’d seen him had been outside or in open spaces—but here in her tiny apartment, he seemed to dwarf her. He was dressed in his standard-issue faded jeans, black leather jacket, bike boots, and white t-shirt and Sky tried not to stare at how tight his shirt stretched across his biceps. She lifted her gaze to a more respectable region of his anatomy and found that he’d been watching her and the smirk he wore did nothing to help retrieve her lost dignity.