Page 3 of Nightmare’s Playground

He was a total catch.

I closed the box and slid it across the counter along with his coffee. “Here ya’ go.” I smiled.

“Have you changed your mind about dinner?” he asked as our fingers brushed on the lid.

My cheeks warmed.

Honestly? I had. Sort of. After the second time he asked, I’d thought about saying yes just to see if something would shake loose. But it didn’t sit right with me. Going out with a man when I knew in my gut it would never go anywhere was a shitty thing to do to him.

My nose wrinkled. “I’m sorry, Dr. Walker⁠—”

“Please, call me Ben,” he rushed out.

I paused. “Right.” Ben. I didn’t picture him as a Ben. Maybe a Tom or a Drake. Something other than Ben.

“Uh.. It’s just that I’m really busy right now with the bakery and all,” I said, trying to let him down as gently as I could.

He held up his hand. “No need to explain, sweetheart. When you’re ready...” Like always, he left the invitation open. See? He really was a nice guy. It was frustrating that other than seeing him for the pretty face he was, I wasn’t interested.

My eyes flashed to the table in the corner. Too bad, the man I was interested in wouldn’t even look at me. And what the hell was that even about? It wasn’t like I’d hit on him or anything.

Shaking off the thoughts, I rattled off Ben’s total. “That’ll be thirty-two even.”

He dug in his pocket for his wallet and pulled out a crisp fifty. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” I bit my lip as I tucked the fifty into the register and pulled out the change. The girls split the tips at the end of the day. They usually made out pretty well.

With one last lingering look, Ben grabbed his box of goodies and coffee, and headed for the door.

“I can’t believe you turned him down again,” Emily said as she slid up beside me.

“I can’t believe he keeps asking.” I commended him for being persistent, but damn. “I’m too busy to go out with anyone,” I added.

“I can think of someone you’d make time for,” Hannah mumbled.

I laughed. She was right. I would make time for the surly biker. I wasn’t sure why, though. He was a helluva lot older than I was. And, from what I’d seen of him so far—which wasn’t much because he acted like I was invisible—he seemed like an asshole.

Hannah leaned her hip on the counter beside me and lowered her voice. “How long is your brother’s lap dog going to be hanging around here?”

I trailed my gaze across the shop to the corner table. “I’m not sure,” I admitted.

That was the truth. I had no clue why Denali had amped up security. One day I was a blip on their radar, and the next prospects were on a steady rotation.

Clearly something was going on. Not that I’d ever know what that was because ‘Club business ain’t a woman’s business.’

Lord knew I’d heard that line a million times growing up.

I hated it. It was why I’d made the vow to never date a biker.

Never.

“Are you going over there?”

I shrugged. I kinda wanted to make my brother wait.

Hannah laughed. “Just go and get it over with.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Wish me luck,” I muttered, wiping my hands on the towel tucked in my apron.