Instead of answering me, he waited for a couple of seconds, making me feel self conscious as hell. And then he nodded his head at me and took a step back, inviting me in.
“Thank you.” I mumbled in a low tone and quickly went ahead to stand in front of the coffee counter.
The mysterious beauty man walked around the counter and started to prepare the coffee.
Even though I did not want to appear as some desperate, horny, cringing woman, unknowingly my gaze kept going back to look at him.
The way he looked, it was impossible to imagine him as a barista.
But anyway, who was I to judge a person?
“Your taste?” his voice had me almost fall down on the ground in shock.
“What?” my eyes snapped up to his.
“In coffee.” He replied, humour clear in his voice,
“What kind of coffee do you want?”
In that moment, I could not even describe in words how badly I wanted to bury my face in something. Like a pillow. Or probably the ground would be good. I will not have to face so much embarrassment ever again.
“Latte.” I said, proud of myself to be able to speak without croaking.
“New here?” He asked casually while starting to stir the coffee in a mug.
“Yeah.”
How the hell does he know that?
Probably accent, or probably the shit head condition of my soil covered, exhausted face.
“So what brings you to Texas?”
“I am here to meet somebody.” I replied softly.
“Boyfriend?” his hand that had been stirring coffee stilled for a second.
“No.” I replied.
Why the fuck did I need to say this?
Whatever. What the hell does it matter to me anyway.
His hand continued stirring the coffee mug once again and after a few minutes he extended the cup towards me.
“Who do you want to meet?” he asked, “Probably I can be of some help?”
I thought about it for a second. As far as I knew, this was my uncle’s shop. So, of course, I needed to ask where he was.
“Umm..” I hesitated, “Do you know Vincent Argeva?”
Just as the words left my lips, the air around us changed.
I literally felt the lack of oxygen around me as his demeanour changed in front of my eyes.
The careless, flirty look was gone and its place was taken by active, interrogative mood.
“Why do you want to meet him?” he asked.
All the humour in his voice was gone. It was replaced by strict, serious demeanour. It was like the man in front of me had changed bodies in a mere two seconds of time.
Before I could answer, a booming laughter rang behind me,
“Hope..?”
And without turning back, I recognized the voice that had been haunting my memories for more than a decade.
I turned back on my slippers to see a heavy, big man with beard hiding half of his face and a black bandana holding the curly locks on his head.
His mouth was curved up in a smile so big that I could see each one of his teeth. He looked like Hagrid from the Harry Potter movies, except for the bandana and the body without any fat.
My eyes instantly got filled with tears at the sight of him.
After so many years.. God..!
“Uncle Vincent.” I whispered through choked throat.
He did not give me a chance to say anything else. Before I could blink away the tears, he took large, fast steps towards me, and then I was engulfed in a tight as hell hug.
I was tiny in front of his big frame. So he just lifted me up so that I was engulfed in his arms and twirled me around with a happy, booming laugh.
And here I was worried that how awkward my meeting with him was going to be.
“I missed you, uncle Vincent.” I whispered. My eyes closed in happiness while tears dripped down my cheeks.
When I opened them, I was staring straight into the dark pools of ocean eyes. His eyes were crinkling at the corners while he stared intensely at me.
“Me too, darling girl.” Vincent shouted lowly in my ears, even though he tried to say the words softly.
After a few seconds, he put me down on the ground but kept me in a side hug, plastered against him.
“Max!” Vincent’s voice had returned to his loud, booming echo while he turned me to face the barista man,
“Meet the most beautiful woman in the world. This is my niece, Hope.”
He gave me that sexy head nod in greeting while the corner of his mouth curved up in a smile.
“Hope, this is Max. He runs a private investigation agency.”
My head shot up so quick that my neck would have literally got broken. My eyes stared up at Uncle Vincent’s face in horror.
The barista.
The one I had just ordered to make a coffee.
Fuck my life.
And he runs a Private Investigation agency!
Seems like my stay with my uncle was not going to be as long as I had originally planned.