Breaking the Ice by Esme Taylor

CHAPTER TWO

Reid

It’s official––the coffee shop was a shit idea. Possibly the worst idea ever.

I expected it would be busy, but it was even busier than I’d imagined. Add to that fact, it was way too hot. I was only in jeans and a t-shirt, but I was already roasting. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of all the people or because I was reading the notes from my editor, which I swear he’d only written to piss me off and ruin my day.

Setting my pen down before my angry grip turned it to dust, I ran my fingers through my hair. Just then, the front door of the shop opened, bringing with it a much-needed blast of cold air, along with a woman dressed as though she were preparing to hike to the North Pole.

I watched as the door closed behind her while she stomped her feet and rubbed her hands together in an effort to warm herself up. I couldn’t help laugh as I watched her peel off her many layers. That was until she removed her woolly hat and ran her fingers through her long, straight, chocolate brown hair. That's when an audible groan replaced the laughter. I quickly brushed my reaction aside, assuming it was because I was having such a shitty morning.

Yep, that’s definitely it. It has nothing to do with the curvy, beautiful woman making me want to leap across the room and bury my face in her hair while I find out if her skin is as soft as it appears.

Desperately trying to ignore the pocket-sized vixen in the doorway, I turned my eyes back to the papers in front of me. Unfortunately, I struggled to focus on the task at hand, preferring to watch her as she sauntered across the room toward the counter. I did my best to pretend not to notice as she smiled and laughed with the staff, while  I hoped she wouldn’t notice the empty spot on the sofa next to me.

Eyes transfixed on the papers in front of me, I gave off my greatest angry and unapproachable vibe. I thought she would assume I was too busy to interrupt and find another place to sit.

None of it worked.

From the corner of my eye, I watched as the long-haired beauty walked straight over to me and asked if the seat was free. I looked up and half turned to face her. Instinctively, my eyes scanned her body in more detail. As I did, I swore I saw her cheeks flood with color.

One of the first things I noticed was how tiny she was. Like, pick her up and put her in my pocket to protect her from the world, kind of tiny. Dressed in white converse, blue skinny jeans, and a thin, light blue sweater that hung off one shoulder, it gave me a glimpse of the white vest top and a baby blue bra strap underneath. Doing my best to withhold another groan, my eyes roved her perfectly perky breasts and delicious curves, which were accentuated by her well-fitted clothing. In her hand, she held a huge green handbag that was so big it could have probably held her entire life inside.

“Is this seat free?” she asked as whole her body appeared to tense.

I stared into her eyes and replied in the only way I could. I growled. Yes, I actually growled. Apparently, that was the only way I knew how to react when it came to a tiny, curvy, dark-haired woman.

Despite the aggressiveness in my growl, she sat down anyway, muttering insults under her breath. As her voluptuous body sank into the seat next to me, a shock wave shot through me. The warmth of her body and her scent reminded me of long, lazy days in the sun. The feeling of her thick, silky hair dancing against my arm as she adjusted herself to get comfy consumed my senses, forcing my body to recoil as I attempted to break the physical connection.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t alarmed by the massive overreaction of my body to her being this close to me. And if her body’s reaction were any indication, she sensed it as well. Twisting in her seat, she turned her back towards me and pretended to be unfazed.

I silently cursed the builders for making me come out this morning and pledged to sack the lot of them when I got home. Still, despite my irritation at the entire situation, I missed the warm sensation of her leg pressed against mine.

I was doing my best to focus on the papers in front of me and distract myself from thinking about her body next to mine; a fact which was made even more difficult when she pulled her long hair into a makeshift ponytail before tossing it over her right shoulder to spill down her front, leaving her neck fully exposed. My heart hammered in my chest as images of me fisting her hair while I did a whole range of filthy things to her naked body filled my mind.

Goosebumps flooded my skin as all the blood from my head rushed to my crotch. Instantly hard, my erection strained uncomfortably against my jeans.

What the hell? My jaw clenched as I tried to regain control of myself, confused as to where all these filthy thoughts about a stranger–who was absolutely not my type–were coming from.

As I attempted, once again, to focus on the work I was meant to be doing, I noticed her pull a book out of her bag. I couldn’t help but smile when I spotted the title.

“Good book?” I asked, my voice much lower and more gravely than I’d expected. When she looked up, she had a surprised expression on her face.

“Amazing,” she responded, her voice light with excitement. It was then I noticed an accent that wasn’t local to the area. “Have you read it? I’m slightly obsessed.” She chuckled nervously.

“I know of them,” I replied with a half-smile. Before I had a chance to say anything else, her phone rang.

Reaching down, she picked up her giant bag and swung it onto the table, knocking over her enormous cup, spilling scalding liquid across the table onto my t-shirt, the crotch of my jeans, and covering my notes, laptop, and phone.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkkkkk,” I cried as I leaped out of my seat.

She gasped. “I–I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Here, let me help you,” she stuttered, pulling some napkins from the pile on the table and wiping the liquid from my papers and laptop. Terrified she might see what I was working on, I quickly snatched the napkins from her.

“Leave it! You’ve done more than enough,” I spat angrily.

“I’ll go and get something better to clean up this mess. Give me just a second.” Oblivious to my obvious anger, she smiled warmly before heading toward the counter.

The minute she was out of my vicinity, I found myself wondering what it would be like to wake up to her smile or to make her so happy that she saved that smile just for me. As soon as the thought entered my mind, terror smashed into me, and I knew what I needed to do.

While her back was turned, I threw everything into my bag, which was still dripping wet, and rushed for the door before she could see me. It wasn’t until I was outside, soaked through and standing in the freezing cold, that I realized I’d left my scarf on the table. Regardless, I wasn’t going back in for it now. I needed to get as far away from whatever that was as quickly as possible.