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“Do you want the usual?” He spoke slowly in a way that made me feel even more dense than I must have looked.Jerk.
When I continued to stare, he sighed. “Huck does sixteen pounds, unless he’s got something special on the menu. Do you need it or not?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. Flustered, I moved past him, completely ignoring the warm, masculine scent that clung to his suntanned skin. In the adjacent office, I flipped through a few pieces of paper until I came to the notes Huck had left me. One finger scanned down the sheet as I felt Duke’s hot glare at my back.
“Yes.” I turned to find him staring. His eyes flicked up to mine. “The usual. Please.” I added a please to the end only because I’d be royally fucked this week without those berries.
Duke’s lips were pressed together in a firm line. “Fine.”
He turned to leave, and a sound caught in my throat. “Did you—are you leaving the berries right now?”
“No. Deliveries were done for the day, and for some reason it dawned on me that we didn’t make a stop here. I came to check up on it. I’ll have to pack and deliver a few boxes this afternoon.”
“Oh...” I started to chew the inside of my lip before I could stop myself. Duke rearranging his day to help correct my mistake caused a strange and uncomfortable feeling in my chest.
Duke was an asshole.
Cold and grumpy and moody.
A Sullivan.
He wasn’t supposed to act all neighborly and go out of his way to help us out.
“Thanks, I . . . I really appreciate it.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw, and I tamped down the low flutter in my belly.
“Yep.” Duke turned toward the back exit of the kitchen, then stopped.
I stared at the expanse of his muscular back, wondering what had stopped him from leaving.
Filling the uncomfortable silence, I gently cleared my throat. “We close at two. If you can’t make it by then, I completely understand. Maybe you could call, and I will be sure to be here so I can prep them and get everything moved to the walk-in?”
He turned, his dark eyes meeting mine and rooting me to the spot. “Call you?”
My throat was hot and tight. There was no reason for my physical reaction to Duke, but it was there all the same. His masculine energy filled the kitchen until the air was thick with it.
“Last time a King got my phone number, I got nothing but crank calls for months,” he said.
I stared, stunned.That was definitely my brother, Royal.
“Cat facts,” he continued, not at all seeing the humor in the ridiculous prank. “I was texted cat facts—fifteentimes a day. I had to get a new phone number.”
I put my hands in the air, stifling the laugh that threatened to escape. “It wasn’t me, and I wouldn’t do that. I swear. I just want to be sure the kitchen is open when you get here.”
A low grunt rumbled in his throat as he looked me over.
When he reached his hand into the pocket of his jeans, I couldn’t help but notice how thick and veined his forearms were. Slipping the phone from his pocket, he hesitated before finally unlocking it and handing it to me.
I rolled my eyes and quickly typed my phone number into his phone, texting my own so I would also have his number. When the text alert came through, I slid my phone from my back pocket and saved his number.
I held his phone toward him. Reaching out, his rough fingertips dragged against my palm as he retrieved his phone. Heat spread up my arm and danced across my chest. I snatched my hand back before he could notice.
He looked at the phone, and his frown deepened. “Daryl Hall?”
I held up my phone. “Yep. And you’re John Oates.”
He eyed me, and tiny prickles danced on the back of my neck. I swallowed. “Well, I can’t haveDuke Sullivanflash across the screen and give my brothers a collective coronary.”
