Page 6

The bell rang over the door for the eleventy-thousandth time that morning. Jazz pulled a tray of sugar cakes from the oven and burned her fingers in the process.

“Be right there!” she yelled.

The morning rush seemed heavier, probably because she was working by herself. Bill had called Madge away with problems when he switched his oxygen tanks. That left Jazz to make coffee, take orders, run the register, and get the pastries out of the ovens before anything burned.

“Take your time.”

The velvety voice sent sparks down her spine, and she almost dropped the baking sheet. “Oh… um….” My hands are full. Just a sec. Coming right up. “Right hand coming.” Oh my God, what did I just say? “Shit! I meant, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Wolf chuckled in amusement. “It’s okay, Jazz. I’m in no rush.”

Jazz. He called me Jazz. Omigod, he knows my name! Her feet stuck to the floor with magic shoe glue, making her few steps to the espresso machine more like a stiff shuffle. “Um… sure. Madge should be back soon.”

“What if I didn’t come in to see Madge?”

Jazz’s heart flipped over, dropped to her toes, and then tangoed back up to her chest. “Um… I guess you want your usual latte?” She packed the portafilter and thankfully slipped it into place without dropping grounds all over the counter.

She reached for the milk in the fridge. “Bill isn’t coming over today.

Madge said he had a bad night. That’s why she’s getting him set up at home.

He can’t do his tanks so well.” Gah! Stop spitting out word salad!

“I came in to get my coffee and Danish fix. To go, please. Mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Jazz popped the top off the plastic jug and filled the metal pitcher. Her heart was pounding. Wolf seldom looked at or addressed her for anything more than fulfilling his coffee order. She was still in awe that he knew her name.

“What do you know about computer scams, phone scams, that sort of thing?”

That brought her up short. Milk sloshed over her hand as she jolted. In her surprise, she forgot to be awkward. “I… uh… some. Why?”

“Do you happen to be called Jazzyhands online?”

Eep! How do I handle this? “That’s one of my names,” she said with caution.

The milk frothed under the steam as the machine spat out its fragrant goodness.

“I sometimes mess around with scammers. You know, keep them on the phone, screw up their schtick.” Mess up their computers by dropping viruses, erase their data, steal back what they took from so many good, unsuspecting people when I can. “That sort of thing.”

“I need to thank you.”

The pretty leaf pattern she’d formed at the top of his cup became a blob as she miscalculated the pour. She was sure her face flushed red, making it appear blotchy and totally unattractive. “Thank me? For what?”

His eyes captured hers, and the breath in her chest became still.

“Do you remember a woman named Delia Best?”

“Um… yeah?”

“She’s my landlady. She told me a girl by the name of Jazzyhands kept her from making a mistake and losing a bunch of money to some phone scam thing. Delia said this Jazzyhands girl lives in this neighborhood and works for Madge and Bill. It didn’t take me long to figure out that it had to be you.”

Jazz coughed to cover her surprise and handed him a white paper cup and a full bag.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty good with computer skills and know my way around a code or two.

I’m glad to help where I can. You know Madge and Bill lost a lot of money that way.

” She shrugged. “Makes me so angry when people are taken advantage of like that.”

He took the cup and lightly brushed her fingertips with his, zapping her with kinetic energy.

“I want you to know, I appreciate what you did for her. Delia’s been widowed a long time now and doesn’t have family close by.

She doesn’t have a lot of money and rents the upper part of her house to make ends meet.

I consider that woman to be under my protection and the protection of the club. Means something to me.”

Jazz dropped her eyes and tried to hide her grin. “Oh… uh… well, I’m happy Delia is okay.”

“You want to know what else?”

She swallowed the sudden pool that appeared on her tongue and hoped she wouldn’t choke on her own spit. “What?”

He leaned in, and those gorgeous eyes of his held her in place like predator and prey.

“I consider you under my protection and the club’s protection now. Take care, Jazz.”

Jazz’s brain short-circuited as she watched her favorite biker leave the bakery.

He knows my name, and I’m under his protection. Under his protection. Under his… omigod! How was she supposed to handle this new information? What did it mean?

Several scenarios flew through her head.

Pictures of Wolf in all his biker glory, taking her out to a five-star restaurant and then a movie.

Nope, that looked funny. How ’bout a trip to the zoo and then a fast-food joint?

More likely, but still weird. Riding on his bike through the mountains?

That spot was reserved for girlfriends. Did bikers have girlfriends, or was it old ladies like the romance books said?

“Yo! We gonna get our coffees or what?”

The customer’s loud inquiry startled her from her fantasy world, and she jumped in surprise, yelping in pain when her elbow grazed the counter. The awkward movement made her phone drop from her apron pocket, and as luck would have it, the whole device exploded into pieces.

“Oh, poop.” Jazz made a point of limiting her cuss words at work, though she had no trouble letting loose at home. She bent to clean up the carnage as Madge blustered into the store.

“Mornin’,” the woman greeted her hurriedly before donning her own apron and getting straight to work.

Jazz shook her head to get back on track.

She slipped the pieces of her phone into the big front pocket and thought more about her encounter with Wolf.

His protection probably meant that he’d keep an eye on her like he did Bill and Madge.

That was a nice idea, and she should be satisfied with that.

Sometimes it was best to appreciate the gifts that were given rather than ask for something impossible.

With that thought, Jazz smiled and thanked the universe for Wolf’s recognition. Broken phone or not, hearing her favorite biker say her name was enough to make her day.