Right now, it doesn’t look like it’ll be anytime soon.
Stevie tilts her head at me, likely waiting for me to run away or duck down and hide. When I don’t, her brows rise in a way that says we’ll definitely be discussing this later.
I really don’t want to discuss it later.
In fact, I was really hoping Miller wouldn’t even show today.
But, of course, he did.
And now he and my sister are looking at me expectantly.
With a sigh, I wave a hand toward him. “Miller, meet my older sister, Stevie. Stevie, this is Miller. He plays—”
“Right wing. He had 90 points last year and was ranked one of the top eight forwards in the league by SportsCenter.” She wipes her hand on her apron, then extends it his way. “I know who you are, Mr. Miller. My daughter won’t stop talking about the Comets. She’s a huge fan.”
Miller grins, then slides his hand against hers. “Grady is fine. And I love hearing that. It’s always nice to meet a fan.”
Oh, he has his charm turned all the way up today. I can tell by the way he’s smiling at her and puffing his chest out just a bit.
“I’m not a fan. My daughter is.”
I can’t help but laugh when Stevie kills his ego with a few simple words.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge Comets fan, but Beast is my favorite player by far.”
“That grump?” Miller scoffs. “I’m way better than Rhodes.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Stevie tells him. “So, did you finally apologize to my sister for being an ass?”
Miller’s gaze snaps to mine, and my whole system goes into shock because there’s no way she actually just said that, knowing full well that it implies…
“You’ve been talking about me?” Miller says with a cocky smile. “I knew you liked me, Scout.”
I roll my eyes. “I liked you better when you didn’t know who I was.”
He just laughs as I turn to make his coffee for him. I contemplate screwing it up to get back at him for embarrassing me just now, but I can’t bring myself to mess with a customer’s order—no matter how annoying they are.
When I slide the finished drink his way, he’s still grinning, and when I see the total on the screen, I know why. He left me another twenty-dollar tip. It makes me want to reach across the counter and wipe the smug smirk from his face.
“Stop it,” I grumble, and all he does is laugh.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tease you about it too much. I knew all along there was no way you could actually hate me. I’m impossible to hate.”
“I don’t think that’s the case at all.”
“Pretty sure it is,” he argues, taking a drink of his coffee. “Ah, just the way I like it. Only a friend would remember that.”
Stevie points from me to Miller. “You two are friends now?”
“No.” Miller shakes his head. “Can you believe your sister won’t be friends with me?”
“With as charming as you are, I’m shocked,” she quips.
“Right?” Miller says, not knowing Stevie well enough to understand she’s definitely making fun of him right now. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing—I’m a great friend.”
Stevie looks up from the concoction she’s currently working on, quirking a brow at me. There are a million questions she’s asking me in that single movement. I shake my head as subtly as I can, telling her we’ll discuss it later…if she can find me, that is. I have big plans to run and hide and avoid her forever because I do not want to get in to whatever it is Miller is doing since I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. He’s shown up every day, and I really don’t know what that means or what I want it to mean.
“What’s that you’re making?” Miller asks, nodding toward the bowl of vanilla frosting I’m currently folding quins sprinkles into.
“It’s filling.”
“A new donut?”
“Sort of. It was here in June, but I decided to keep it as a full-time item, and I’ll be adding it starting tomorrow. We’re doing a little promo thing for it.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a Pride donut. We’re calling it Live Out Proud.”
“Sweet. Literally.” He looks mighty proud of himself for the pun.
“It’s for our dads,” Stevie tells him. “Scout always wanted to make a donut that celebrated their love, and she finally perfected it this summer, so now it’s going to be a regular menu item.”
“That’s awesome. I bet they’re ridiculously proud of you. Are they hockey fans? If so, I’ll gladly bring some jerseys or pucks next time I stop by.”
Stevie’s gaze catches mine for only a moment before she says, “Oh, well, Dad wasn’t always but is now. Pops, on the other hand—”
“I think your phone is buzzing,” I cut her off.
I feel bad because her phone didn’t really buzz, but just like I knew it would, it draws her attention and sends her rushing toward the other end of the truck where she keeps her purse just in case it has something to do with Macie.
Miller tips his head, watching me expectantly like I’m going to finish where Stevie left off, but I’m not. I don’t want her spilling our personal details to him, so I’m not about to either, especially when I’m still not sure what his endgame is here.
I ignore him and continue mixing the sprinkles and the frosting. I’m sure it’s plenty combined by now, but I don’t want to not have anything to do with my hands, not with him standing there with that damn cold brew and those damn watchful eyes.
“Oh, I’m all good. It wasn’t mine,” Stevie says, pocketing her phone and coming back to the front. “Maybe it was yours? It could be Carla ready to come and actually do her job for once.”
“Who’s Carla?” Miller asks.
“My other baker,” I answer, and Stevie huffs. I shoot her a glare, though she doesn’t see it because she’s back to working on her own project. “She called in today.”
“And every other day she was scheduled this week for absolutely no reason.”
Another glare Stevie’s way.
Miller’s face goes from carefree to cloudy in a split second, like he’s the one angry about Carla not showing up. “That’s bullshit, Scout. You shouldn’t let her use you like that. Hell, you shouldn’t let anyone use you. You’re worth more than that. You should talk with her, lay down the ground rules. And if she gives you shit, fire her. You’ll find someone better—someone who values your time and your business the way you do. That’s what you deserve.”
His tone…the way he sounds like he’s talking from experience…it has a lump forming in my throat because I was not expecting that. I’m used to lectures from Stevie, but this? This felt different.
I find myself nodding and saying, “Okay.” Mostly because I’m not entirely sure how I’m supposed to respond. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Good.” He nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer. He lifts his drink. “Thank you for the coffee.” He looks to Stevie. “It was great to officially meet you. Let me know if your dads ever want anything. I’m happy to bring it by.”