Sheryl Lister

A Touch Of Love


Скачать книгу

posture and smooth, sexy walk. She glanced up to see Sam smiling, exited out of the page and shoved the phone back into her pocket.

      “Oh don’t put it away on my account. I could look at him all day. And that voice.” Sam sighed dramatically.

      So could she, but that’s how she got caught up the last time. She didn’t need another silver-tongued devil in her life. “Wait. Shouldn’t you be saving all your staring for your boyfriend?”

      “I’m not planning to touch. Just look and admire,” she said with a grin.

      “Well, you’ll have to look at him on your break. We have work to do.”

      “Whatever you say, boss. I do think you ought to talk to him, though. It’s time for you to jump on the horse again.”

      Lexia ignored the smirk on her friend’s face. Sam had witnessed firsthand what Lexia went through with her divorce and knew Lexia had sworn off men indefinitely.

      By the time they placed the muffins and other pastries that the chef, James Willis, had made into the display case and brewed coffee, the coffee cake was done. After letting it cool for fifteen minutes, Lexia sliced it and added it to the case just as the six-thirty opening time rolled around. They had a steady stream of customers for the first couple of hours. Many people sat to eat while reading the paper or working on tablets. As soon as the rush hour died down, she retreated to her office.

      An hour later, Sam stuck her head in the door. “Guess who’s here, Lexi?”

      By the smile on her friend’s face, Lexia figured it had to be Khalil. “And? Just give him the plate you insisted we set aside just in case.”

      “I would, but he specifically asked to see you.”

      She lowered her head to the desk and groaned.

      Sam laughed. “Hey, at least he looks good and has it going on. It could be worse.”

      She glared. “You’re not helping, Samantha.”

      “Uh-oh, she called me by my whole name. Must be serious. And I am helping. No need to let your best years pass you by because of one idiot.” She folded her arms and leaned against the door frame. “I still wish you had let me kick Desmond’s butt.”

      Lexia smiled. Sam had been with her when she caught Desmond Martin and one of the waitresses who worked at the diner they owned having sex in the office. He hadn’t shown one ounce of remorse and made it his mission to hurt Lexia by taking away the diner when she wouldn’t “forget about it,” as he’d said. Samantha, with her five-ten height, had been ready to dismember him. If Lexia thought they could get away with it, she might have. Now there was Khalil Gray. She pushed to her feet.

      Sam straightened and pointed a finger Lexia’s way. “And be nice.”

      Lexia rolled her eyes. “I’m always nice.”

      She burst out laughing. “Tell that to the last four guys that you sliced and diced so sweetly they’re still trying to figure out what happened.”

      “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. Since her divorce, she’d immediately shut down any man who had shown the least bit of interest in her—delete and block. Why she hadn’t done the same thing to Khalil was a mystery. Lexia sighed heavily. “Let me go see what he wants.” She walked past Sam and started toward the front.

      Sam stopped her. “Ah, you might want to take this.” She held out the plate.

      She ignored Sam’s knowing smirk, snatched the plate covered in plastic wrap and strode off. Khalil was standing with his back to her and talking on his cell when she approached and Lexia took a moment to study his slim build. He stood over six feet and gave new meaning to fine and sexy. If she had to guess by his attire, she would say he was some kind of fitness buff. Once again, he wore a pair of athletic pants, which accentuated a firm muscular butt that made her want to find out if it was as hard as it looked. She chastised herself for the errant thought and promptly shoved it aside. As if sensing her presence, he turned and smiled. Her pulse skipped. Heart-stopping was the only way to describe it. And those eyes. If she had any sense, she’d drop the plate on a table and get as far away from this man as fast as possible.

      “I’ll call you back,” she heard him say. He stuck the phone in his pocket. “How are you, Lexia?”

      “Fine.” She handed him the plate. “S—”

      “Lexi figured you’d be in and saved you an extra-large piece,” Sam said as she breezed by carrying full plates, earning a scowl from Lexia.

      Lexia wanted to strangle Sam. Sam knew good and well she had cut that piece herself.

      Khalil’s smile widened. “Thanks for looking out for me. How did you know I’d be here today?”

      “I didn’t.” No way would she tell him she’d spotted him earlier as he rushed toward the elevator. “Well, enjoy your food.”

      “Aren’t you going to join me?”

      “I hadn’t planned to. I have a lot of work to do.”

      He cupped her elbow and steered her toward a booth at the far end. “I’m sure Sam won’t mind if you keep me company for a few minutes. After all you are the boss.”

      The warmth of his touch ignited a fluttering sensation in her stomach. To keep from melting in a puddle, Lexia quickly slid into the booth.

      Khalil set the plate down. “I’ll be right back.”

      She watched his sexy swagger as he headed back to the counter and knew, instinctively, that he’d gone back for tea. That walk should be outlawed! She could just imagine him strutting down a runway. She frowned when he came toward her with two cups.

      “Chamomile with honey and lemon for you and, of course, decaf vanilla chai for me.” He took a seat across from her and pushed the cup her way.

      Lexia sent a lethal glare Sam’s way. The traitor. “Thanks,” she murmured.

      “So how long have you been a chef?” he asked, starting in on his food.

      “Eight years, but I’ve been cooking since I was a teen.” She had fond memories of Mr. Wall letting her help in the kitchen of his small diner. Just as quickly, another thought stirred up the anger and hurt she had worked so hard to forget. Not wanting to dwell on the unpleasantness, she took a sip of her tea and changed the subject. “What about you? Do you work here in the building?”

      Khalil finished chewing. “Lately, it’s starting to feel like I work here, but no, I don’t. Our family-owned home safety company is located on the sixth floor and I attend some of the meetings. I’m actually in fitness.”

      “I figured it was something like that by the way you’re always dressed. Are you some kind of personal trainer?”

      “Yes, among other things.” He leaned forward and locked his gaze with hers. “Are you looking for some personal training?”

      A vision of his hands on her demonstrating some exercise technique flashed in her mind. Lexia choked on her tea. She hastily set the cup down with a thud.

      “Are you okay?”

      When he started to stand, she held up a hand. “I’m fine,” she croaked. “It just went down the wrong pipe.” She cleared her throat, took a careful sip and swallowed without incident. “See. Fine.”

      Khalil studied Lexia for a moment, and then nodded. They fell silent. “You didn’t answer my question.”

      She had hoped he’d forgotten. “No. Although I probably should work out more consistently, my schedule doesn’t allow for a gym membership right now. Where do you work?”

      “Maximum Burn in Fox Hills.”

      Great. Less than ten minutes from my condo. “I’ve heard of it.”

      “Anytime you