“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” I gasped horrified, quickly grabbing some serviettes to wipe up the beer. I was sure he’d be pissed at me but when I looked up, he was smiling.

“It’s okay. No harm done.” He seemed more amused by my fussing than pissed about the beer all over his sleeve.

“I’m not usually such a klutz.”

“First day?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Either that or you wanted to get my attention.” His green eyes twinkled up at me. “Which I think would be very cool, by the way.”

Was he flirting with me?

“Let’s put it down to being my first day. And after this, hopefully not my last.”

“I promise not to tell … on one condition.”

I raised a brow. “And what’s that?”

He leaned forward and grinned. “You tell me your name.”

What was it with these Californian guys? Why did they feel they needed to blackmail me into telling them my name? Back in Georgia when we wanted to know someone’s name, we asked them.

I smiled. Because it made me think of Heath. Which was unexpected. Just like the butterflies in my belly.

“Harlow,” I replied, pushing Heath and the butterflies he gave me, aside.

He offered me his hand. “Nice to meet you Harlow. I’m Dean.”

“Nice to meet you too, Dean. Sorry about throwing your beer at you,” I joked and his grin grew wider as his eyes studied me.

“It’s no problem. It gave us the opportunity to meet. And for that I’m grateful.”

I threw the wet serviettes onto my tray. “I’ll be back with another beer and this time I promise not to throw it all over you.”

When I returned with a freshly poured beer, I noticed Piper had brought him his pizza in my absence.

“So Harlow, do you get a lunch break?” he asked. “Because I would love you to join me.”

I shook my head. Even though I was due for a break, I didn’t know what the policy was about dining with the customers. “I appreciate the offer but I’m not due for a break for a while. But you enjoy.”

He stopped me from leaving by putting his hand on my forearm. “How about dinner then? Or is the real reason you’re turning down this delicious pizza because you have a boyfriend? I imagine a girl as beautiful as you would have a boyfriend?”

I shook my head. “No. No boyfriend. And I didn’t come to California looking for one either.”

He nodded and after thinking about it for a moment, asked, “What about a guy who is a friend?”

I smiled. He was very cute. I nodded.

“Now that, I can handle.”

“Excellent. Then let me take you for coffee tomorrow.”

I relaxed a little, grateful I wouldn’t have to go into the whole spiel about not wanting to date anyone. Tomorrow was my day off and other than shopping for jeans, I really didn’t have much else planned. Plus, this guy was a hottie. And he seemed like a nice enough guy. Friendly. Funny. Easy going.

“Okay. Coffee sounds like fun.”

We made arrangements to meet at a coffee shop just down from the Pier the following day.

The lunchtime rush hit not long afterwards and I didn’t see him again until I was standing at the bar waiting for Leo to pour a couple of beers. He ducked his head around the corner on his way out the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at ten?”

I nodded, my cheeks flushed because I could feel Leo smirking next to me. Dean grinned and disappeared out the door.

Fully aware Leo had something smart-assed tumbling around on his tongue, I turned to him and warned, “Don’t you say a word.”

He looked at me with a flamboyant what me? and then mimed zipping his lips closed with his fingers.

“It’s just coffee. With a friend,” I insisted. When Leo didn’t reply and just stared at me like he was holding his breath, I sighed, frustrated. “Okay. Speak.”

He dramatically unzipped his lips. “Honey, his idea of coffee will get you pregnant.”

I threw a dishrag at him. “It’s not like that.”

He shrugged. “Hey, don’t sweat it, patootie. I like coffee. I’d coffee all day and all night if I could. I’d coffee for breakfast, lunch and for dinner.”

“Of course you would.”

He winked. “You just gotta ask yourself if he is who you really want to have coffee with.”

* * * * *

I worked until four o’clock and on my way home stopped in at the grocery store across the road to get something for dinner. There was a homeless man sitting in the sun on the steps outside the supermarket. He was unshaven, quiet and despite the heat of the afternoon he wore an army jacket. What looked like his life’s possessions were tied up in a bundle behind him. He strummed a guitar and his guitar case was open with only a handful of coins glinting in the late afternoon sunlight.

Before heading into the market I stopped in front of him, and dug into my pocket for what I had received in tips and handed him the roll of notes. There was close to a hundred dollars. He stopped strumming and looked up at me. I didn’t say anything to him but I nodded and he nodded back. He had kind eyes and I could see his face masked the pain and grief of whatever had led him to be there, on the side of the road, alone.

As I entered the supermarket I heard him say in a gravelly voice, “Thank you, Miss. God bless you.”

It was nothing. I’d grown up surrounded in wealth and I would never have to go without if I didn’t want to. I liked earning my pay, but my tips were best used by someone less fortunate.

Standing in front of the freezer section, I was too busy deciding which frozen TV meal was going to be my dinner to notice him until he spoke.

“Are you stalking me?”

Looking up I saw his reflection in the glass doors of the freezer. He was standing behind me, dressed in jeans, his sleeves pushed up to reveal strong, tattooed forearms. With his closed-lip smile and dimples the overall package was ridiculously hot.

“Stalking?” I turned to face him and flashed him a look of mild disgust. “Hardly.”

Blue eyes took in the length of me and then settled on mine. Penetrating. Magnetic. It was a look I felt all over me. His appreciation for my tiny shorts and tight shirt was reflected all over his amazing face.

“What happened to you the other night? Why did you run away?” he asked.

“Run away?”

Wait. Had he really expected me to hang around and wait for him to finish mauling the girl in the red dress so we could go to breakfast together?

I raised a brow at his directness, and smiled. “Last I saw you were … preoccupied.”

When he realized what I was talking about, he grimaced. At least he had the courtesy to look uncomfortable.

“Oh … you saw that.”

Amused by his discomfort, I tipped my head to the side. “Yeah, I saw that.”

“Sorry, H-bomb,” he said sincerely. “She’s a friend from out of town … I hadn’t expected her to turn up …”

I smiled and shrugged. “It’s okay … you don’t owe me an explanation. It doesn’t bother me.”

His perfectly shaped brows drew in as he frowned. I don’t think he liked that I’d seen him with the redhead. Either that, or he didn’t like the idea that it didn’t bother me. I couldn’t be sure. But I think he was hoping for more of a response from me. Who knew with him?

His eyes dropped to the frozen dinners in my hand. “I didn’t take you for a TV dinner kinda girl.”

“It’s not by choice, believe me. But it’ll do until I can do a proper grocery shop.” I held up both boxes. “Mac and cheese? Or chicken parmigiana with roast vegetables?”

“Neither.” He shook his head and took the frozen dinners from me and put them back into the freezer. “C’mon. I still owe you breakfast,” he said closing the freezer doors.

“It’s five o’clock in the afternoon. A little too late for breakfast don’t you think?”

“Or early. Depends on which way you look at it.” He winked and started to head down the cereal aisle towards the front doors. “C’mon, I’m starving.”