Page 10 of Irreconcilable Attractions (Westwend Boys #1)

Colton

“You cannot just disappear like that on me, Colton Percival Shaffer!” Chris’s eyes were blazing as I tied on my apron.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I deadpanned. “And I’ve told you to stop calling me that, Christina . That is not my middle name.”

“You told me— promised me — that you would explain what happened when your dad called and you bolted. That was two days ago. So buck up, mister! You have got a lot of explaining to do.”

Christina—Chris for short—was my best friend and longest-standing employee at Bikini Beans. She probably seemed intimidating with her jet-black hair and gothic attire, but in reality, she was the kindest person.

Her aggressively bubbly personality always caught customers off guard, but she loved chatting with new people and could recall orders like a psychic.

Honestly, I couldn’t run the place without her.

She’d given me hell in the beginning regarding naming our food and drink items—and especially about the designs on the blackboard.

But, after I’d finally relinquished those roles to her, I could tell how happy it made her.

Plus, the numbers didn’t lie; people loved her ideas.

Now she was in charge of the whole menu and graphics, which meant she spent a good amount of her free time researching new seasonal twists and how to better promote our year-round selection. She’d even coined our classic welcome line, too.

Chris’s family had moved to Westwend when we were both sophomores in high school. They’d bounced around a lot, not really staying in one place long, and Chris had told me Westwend High had been the third high school she’d attended.

By the time my not-so-coming out happened, we’d already been acquainted with each other—kind of hard not to be when your whole school was less than three hundred people.

And of course, news had made its way back to her.

She’d marched right up to me, grinned, and said, “ You like dicks? Me too! We have so much in common! ”

And that was that. Instant friendship.

When her family decided to take off again after two years of being firmly held down by Westwend society, Chris stayed.

Now, she’d tell you she hated small-town vibes and all the people in your business, but I knew better.

If Westwend had a mascot, it might as well have been Christina Faulkner, what with her being at nearly every community event and town engagement meeting.

My other employee was Mitchel, and he’d taken over a lot of the register, barista, and other work that Chris couldn’t get to when she was nose deep in marketing research. He was the newest addition to our team, since he’d just moved to town a little over a year ago.

He reminded me of a cherub angel. His white blond hair curled relentlessly at the ends, and he had soft features, pouty pink lips, and clear porcelain skin.

Sometimes it was hard to believe he was real.

When he first started working for me, I could admit that I found him incredibly attractive, which had partly played a role in me hiring him.

But, I quickly learned our personalities didn’t mesh that way.

He was the quietest person I’d ever met, but had a sweet sense of humor when he finally warmed up.

We didn’t know much about him, despite Chris and I’s best efforts of getting him to open up.

There was a distinct lack of approachability to him—not in a way that made him seem cold, but more reserved.

My dad told me he was probably just the type who had clear boundaries between work and personal life.

Which was fine. I’d gotten used to having my best friend as my employee, so Mitchel was a good reminder of what a normal boss/employee relationship felt like.

But, I couldn’t help getting the impression he was running from something. Didn’t know who or what, since there’d be no point in me asking, anyway. Plus, he was a solid, diligent worker who hadn’t once requested time off since I’d hired him.

Between the three of us, it was an odd little mix of personalities, but we made it work, somehow.

Chris snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Uh, hello ?”

I pushed her hand away. “Okay, first of all? Rude .”

Her eye roll and the very perturbed hip-cock she had going on told me she wasn’t messing around anymore—my timer had run out and payment was past due.

I let out a heavy sigh. “Everyone is fine. No one died or is in the hospital.”

Her eyes softened instantly, her whole body relaxing against the counter beside her in relief. “Well, thank god for that.”

I pursed my lips, nodding without elaborating further.

“So… what did happen?”

Instead of responding, I wiped at an already clean espresso knob, somehow hoping it might save me from the inquisition I knew was coming.

“Colton.” Her tone was clear and full of all the motherly demands I’d imagine she’d have one day.

Huffing, I finally gave in to my fate. “My dad hired a new attorney, and when he showed up on Friday, the guy didn’t have anywhere to stay. So, my dad called me over to tell me I was putting him up for the summer.”

Her jaw dropped, her upper body leaning forward over her now crossed arms. “I’m sorry, told you? You meant to say asked you, right?”

My shoulders slumped, knowing how this was going to sound. “No.”

She let out a small gasp, “Oh, Colton. You didn’t take this guy in, did you?”

“Don’t say it like that! I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t say no!” I tried defending myself, “He had nowhere to go, and my dad gave me that look.”

I ran my hands over my face at the mix of emotions I still held over this whole situation. On the one hand, I was still pissed at my father for essentially pressuring me into this mess. On the other, Derek didn’t seem like a terrible guy.

Chris shot me a grimace, “Oof. The Look. That’s shitty.” She conceded.

We both knew how intimidating Charlie Shaffer’s look could be. It had won court cases, whipped me and my brothers into shape, and supposedly once stopped a stampede of cattle. No one fucked around after being on the receiving end of it.

“Yeah, so, I really didn’t have much choice in the matter.” I paused, thinking back on my basketball game with Derek. “And he seems pretty okay.”

Chris’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning, “Oh? Tell me more.”

I shot her a short glare, already seeing where her mind was going. “We played basketball the day after he moved in, and I showed him around a little. He’s… funny.”

That felt like a wholly inadequate way to describe Derek Hammond, but I could already see the wheels in her head spinning. I loved the girl to death, but she was just as bad as the rest of the gossips in town when it came to romance.

“But, don’t get any ideas. He’s straight.” I quickly added, “Told me himself.”

Her shoulders deflated, before she gave a small sigh and shrugged. “Well, the summer won’t last long,” she concluded.

I opened my mouth to respond when the bell over the door chimed loudly.

“Welcome to BBC, which stands for Bikini Beans Cafe!” Chris and I called together, more out of habit than truly greeting the patrons shuffling their way inside.

“Colton Shaffer, I have a bone to pick with you!” An all too familiar nasally voice called out. Glancing over toward the resident gossip gang, I inwardly groaned as the four women made their way toward the counter.

At the front of the pack, thin arms crossed defiantly over her equally small frame, was my seventy-something neighbor, Eloise Anderson.

Trailing behind her, looking far too much like some granny gangsters, were Dorothy Fairchild, Wilma Daughtrey, and Alice Lambert—better known to the rest of the town as the Stitches Club.

They all tittered about how cute the name was for their sewing and knitting club, but the rest of the Westwendian population knew what it really stood for.

Chris muttered a curse under her breath as she slowly slunk backward from the counter. Taking a big breath as softly as I could, I rolled my shoulders back to prepare for whatever it was my neighbor was so peeved about.

“That’s a shame to hear, Mrs. Anderson. I don’t know that I want you picking at my bones—especially not the most important one.”

Behind me, Chris snorted, but the monger mafia either didn’t catch my reference or didn’t care.

“What’s with the slick new ride in your driveway?

” Mrs. Daughtrey came over and leaned against the display case, casually examining her nails which only bolstered the syndicate association in my head.

She was the only one in the group that hadn’t greyed yet, but I suspected that was because she’d sworn her niece, the local hairstylist, into secrecy.

I stared back at the group of four women fanned out before me, taking in how different they were.

But, they shared a common goal—digging up information regarding the going-ons in Westwend.

Today’s tactic seemed to be a bit of good cop, bad cop.

Instead of responding to the question, my gaze trailed over to Mrs. Lambert as she squinted up toward the menu on the chalkboard wall behind my head.

Her eyes were magnified comically behind the dark brown frames of her glasses, her jaw working back and forth as she tried to decipher the words written in white chalk.

Clearing my throat slightly to catch her attention, I slid a paper menu toward her.

“Well?” Mrs. Fairchild interjected, hands on her hips and leaning forward toward the counter like she could intimidate me with the entirety of her five-foot nothing stature.

“It’s not mine.” I said, knowing that wouldn’t be enough, but still hoping otherwise as I moved behind the register. Mrs. Lambert shuffled over, paper menu grasped between her hands and the kind smile on her face melting my heart just a touch.

“Whose is it, then?” The huff of annoyance that came from Mrs. Anderson sounded downright indignant. “I think I have a right to know who's hanging out around my property, don’t you?”

No, not particularly. But, how did you say that politely to a woman who would ream you six ways to Sunday and then tattle to your parents like a five year old if she had her feathers even slightly ruffled?

“Do y’all want your usual tea?” I asked instead, as I rang up Mrs. Lambert’s order before she happily made her way toward a nearby table to wait.

“I want you to be honest with me!” Mrs. Anderson huffed again, pilfering through her purse to find her wallet before passing over her card.

Chris and I exchanged a small side glance. One way or another this information would get back to them, but it might be better to get ahead of it while I could.

“My dad just hired a new attorney. He’s going to be staying with me for a while until he can find another place in town.” I concluded, moving past Chris to set up four ceramic mugs so their herbal mixture could steep after the remaining two members paid.

Mrs. Anderson’s eyes lit up, and her defiant posture seemed to relax as she watched me move along, preparing their drinks. “Oh? I had wondered if you had found yourself a woman, but a new attorney, you say?”

Turning to grab the milk from the fridge, I grimaced slightly. If Derek thought moving to Westwend would be a change, he’d be right in a way, but he’d be trading big city luxuries for small town inquiries into his life.

“Is that who you were with at T&T on Friday?” Mrs. Daughtery asked, gingerly lowering herself into one of the wooden chairs at their table.

I hesitated, knowing that once I fed into the questions, they’d never stop coming. “Yes.” I admitted after a pause.

Mrs. Daughtery let out a small gasp, her face lighting up with excitement. “Sandra said he’s quite the good looking man. Tall, too. Shame he didn’t notice she left her number for him.”

I made a noncommittal hum, trying to appear too busy to continue my end of the conversation as I plucked tea bags from the steaming water.

“Is he single?” Mrs. Lambert piped up next, her magnified blue eyes practically shining as she stared me down.

Three other sets of eyes locked onto me making my skin crawl. I still wasn’t ready to examine why the idea of Derek getting with some girl in town made my stomach clench. Plus, giving out information about him behind his back felt like I was betraying his trust in a weird way.

Glancing over, I tried to send Chris a covert look, hoping that she’d somehow help me out of this bind. Instead, she propped her chin in her hand and raised an eyebrow. So much for that.

Shooting her a scowl while scooping the mugs together, I made my way around the counter. Setting one before each of the women, I sent them all a stern look. “Honestly, y’all know how I feel about sharing business that isn’t mine to tell,” I stated flatly.

“We’re just trying to learn a little bit more about our new neighbor. What’s the harm in that?” Mrs. Daughtrey blew gently on her steaming mug.

“I’m sure you’ll meet Derek yourselves once he gets settled and is out a bit more,” I retorted, trying to be as diplomatic as possible without getting anyone's panties in a bunch.

“Oh, Derek, was it?” Mrs. Fairchild giggled like a schoolgirl. “That’s a good, strong name.”

Shaking my head, I let out a small sigh, suddenly exhausted as I made my way back behind the register.

“Why is he staying with you, though?” Mrs. Anderson continued, holding her mug before her on the table before taking a gentle sip.

God, give me strength and mercy. “Look, I don’t know all the details, but he just accepted the job, and we all know that the places in town are already booked for the summer.

Dad is insisting he stays in town, though.

” I held up my hand just as Mrs. Fairchild opened her mouth to ask another question.

“Like I said, I’m not saying anything more.

It’s not my story to tell.” I concluded, already feeling guilty at what I had given away.

The Stitches gals all seemed to settle at that, appeased with having just a small tidbit more than they did coming in, but I sincerely hoped I hadn’t just signed Derek’s interrogation warrant.