Page 4 of Numbers Boy (Working Boys #2)

CHAPTER FOUR

Noah

AS I WALK toward my meeting with a new potential client, I take in the place he chose.

I’ve found that you can tell a lot about someone based on where they feel comfortable, and so far, I’m loving what Spill the Beans is telling me about Steve.

The café is warm and inviting, both in its bright color scheme and in the mouthwatering scents of coffee and baked goods that I could smell from down the block.

Although part of that might be the fact that there’s a bakery right next door.

Another big plus is the Pride flag I can see hanging behind the counter.

Everything about this place is one green flag after another. Or rainbow flag, as it were.

I stop right inside the door to brush off the snow from my hat and stomp my boots on the rug.

My gloves come off next so my fingers can start to thaw out.

As I shove them into my pockets, I look up to see a gorgeous red-headed man sitting at one of the tables and staring at me.

His eyes, surrounded by thick lashes, are wide, and his perfect pink lips are just slightly parted.

I grin at him and watch, fascinated, as a subtle flush colors his cheeks.

I can’t quite tell from here, but it looks like those cheeks are covered in freckles.

Based on the fact that there’s no one else in the café and I’m a few minutes late because of the weather, I’m assuming this is Steve.

Walking up to the counter, I smile at the two guys behind the counter.

The petite man with dark hair thanks the other one for dropping off cupcakes and brushes a bit of something powdery off of his cheek.

He then turns to me and returns my smile with a giant one of his own.

His name tag says Carlos and lists his pronouns underneath.

I order a hot chocolate from Carlos and chuckle to myself when I see his tip jars are set up as a poll.

I quickly amend my order and drop all of the coins from my pocket into the correct jar.

Which is “car-mull,” obviously.

“Can I get a name for your order?” he asks, sneaking a quick glance at the man with the cupcakes.

I get the feeling they’re sharing an inside joke based on the way the bigger man blushes and shakes his head.

I turn my gaze back towards the red-head who is probably Steve to give them some semblance of privacy.

And, let’s be honest, because I want an excuse to look at him some more. “I’m Noah.”

At my words, Probably Steve freezes, his hand halfway to his coffee cup.

I guess he wasn’t expecting me to be the person he’s waiting for.

I bite back another smile and hand my card to Carlos, who then whirls off to make my drink.

As he waits for the milk to heat up, Cupcake Guy presses a kiss to Carlos’s cheek and says he’ll see him at home later.

Well, that’s freaking adorable. In no time at all after that, I’ve got my drink in hand, and I head over to Probably Steve’s table.

When I get close, I clear my throat, and he looks up at me.

He really is gorgeous, with pouty pink lips and high cheekbones.

And I was right about the freckles. Even with him wearing makeup, I can see them peeking through.

They’re sprinkled all across his face and there are some trailing teasingly down his neck.

Forcing my gaze back up to his dark green eyes, I smile and introduce myself.

“Hi, I’m Noah Baxter. I’m guessing you’re Steve?”

He nods and smiles back.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you,” Steve says. His voice is confident and smooth, with a touch of sweetness to it.

I hold out my hand and notice him eyeing the tattoo there.

His brows crinkle softly as he tries to read the swirling script, so I put my drink down on the table and hold both fists out with my thumbs pressed together to make it easier to read the “May I Please Pet Your Dog?” that’s inked across the backs, three words on each hand.

Steve’s face smooths as he reads it, and then he throws his head back and laughs. My gut flips, and I’m lost for a moment in the throaty, happy sound, my eyes snagging again on the freckles disappearing under the collar of his sweater.

“What a fitting tattoo for a dog walker,” he notes as we finally shake hands.

At the first touch of his smooth palm to my rougher one, a spark sends tingles up my arm.

I’m probably just letting my mind run away from me – after all, it is super dry and staticky today – but I can’t help thinking it’s just Steve.

It’s been a while since I’ve been this instantly smitten over anyone, but there’s something about Steve that is making me want to say fuck it to professionalism and ask him out. But I wouldn’t do that to Blake, and Steve didn’t come here to be hit on.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites that I have,” I say about my tattoo and sit down in the chair across from him.

“Maybe someday, I could see the rest,” Steve suggests, his eyes roaming over my arms like they did when I first walked in.

Looks like maybe an invitation to a date wouldn’t be completely unwelcome.

But work still comes first. And speaking of work, Steve is talking about his dog now.

Time to focus. “I’ve only had her for about two weeks now, but we haven’t had too many issues aside from the first few days when she was adjusting. ”

“That’s great. So, you said in your original message that you would need someone to walk Stacy about once a week?”

“Yeah, and the occasional overnight or weekend dog sitting, if it works in your schedule,” Steve confirms and then looks at me over the rim of his coffee, the dark lashes emphasizing his eyes.

They’re Disney princess eyes, all big and sweet and framed with that long, thick fringe.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone with prettier eyes in real life.

“Your partner said it’s usually not an issue as long as there’s enough advance notice. ”

Partner? He must mean Blake since he’s the one who fielded Steve’s original inquiry.

Something in his tone makes me wonder if he’s fishing for information.

Hoping to clear up any possible miscommunication, I decide to give a little more personal background than I usually do so soon after meeting a client.

“Yeah, Blake’s my best friend. We started UnLeash Your Dreams together right after we graduated college almost five years ago. Between the two of us, we can typically fit in most clients’ needs.”

Steve smiles at me, his green eyes shining brightly, and I’m glad I led with the best friend factoid.

“That’s awesome for you two. My best friend and I are often teased by the rest of our friend group for being so similar, but I don’t think we could ever go into business together.

Well, unless it was to own a gym with Stu doing all of the heavy lifting, literally.

The only crunches I do is crunching numbers.

” Steve laughs lightly at his own jokes, and it endears him to me even more.

“So, what do you do, then?” This line of questioning seems a little like a first date, but I can’t help it. Plus, Steve brought it up. It would be rude not to ask.

“I’m an accountant. Right now, I do freelance work for a bunch of different places, which works out really nicely for Stacy because I’m able to be home with her and take her for lots of walks and play breaks.”

The fact that Steve is in accounting surprises me for some reason.

Maybe it’s how he’s dressed or the makeup that doesn’t scream math nerd, but the more I look, the more I can see it.

I bet he looks adorable when he’s focused on his work, green eyes intent as he figures out how to make the numbers add up.

And I should know better than to judge based on appearances.

My tattoos tend to throw some people off and make them assume I’m in a more traditionally blue-collar field.

And yet, Steve took them in stride, no judgment or hesitation.

“Stacy sounds like a lucky pup.”

Steve’s smile turns blinding as he talks more about his dog.

“She’s so great! I’ve wanted a pet for a long time now, and so far, it’s been amazing.

And having to take her out has also made me get more fresh air, so it’s a win-win.

” He takes another sip of coffee and then licks a drop from his plump lower lip.

My heart, already beating fast by how lovingly he’s talking about his dog, skips a beat at the sight.

“Oh, by the way, my friend was wondering how you came up with the name of your business.”

“Well, Blake wanted to go with Chasing Tail, but in the end, we didn’t want to scare off any families who needed our services.”

Steve giggles and leans forward across the table. “I saw an ad for a place called Deez Mutts. I almost contacted them but decided they could be a last resort.”

I snort a laugh and mirror his posture. “If you like punny names of places, there’s an awesome pet groomer called Doggy Style. They’re really nice and do great work. I have a few different clients who go there for their pets.”

“Good to know! Stu, that friend I was talking about, loves punny names. If we ever did open a gym, I’m sure he’d have some great ideas for a name.”

We laugh a bit more and float ideas for their fictional gym, then arrange a meeting between me and Stacy in a few days’ time.

I can’t believe how quickly we connected, and I get the feeling neither of us wants to leave.

Something about sitting here, talking and joking with Steve, feels completely natural.

But it’s getting late, and we both have someone, or some pup, at home waiting for us.

As we get bundled up, Steve mentions needing to talk to Carlos about something, so we confirm our time next Monday for me to meet Stacy and say our goodbyes.

While I head down the street toward my apartment, I pull out my phone and pop in my earbuds to call Blake with an update.

The earbuds were a Christmas present from him since I would always complain about my ears getting cold if I ever had to make a call while on a walk.

This way, both my ears and my hands can stay tucked warmly away as we talk. He answers after the second ring.

“Hey, Noah, how’d the meeting go? Are you just on your way home now?” he asks, and I grin, thinking about red hair, green eyes, and a bright laugh.

“It went really well. I’m meeting with the dog on Monday to get to know her a little bit.” A bubble of excitement rises up in my chest at the thought of seeing Steve again so soon. “Her owner is super nice, and we got to talking. But I’m on my way home.”

Blake must hear something in my voice, or maybe it’s just the fact that I willingly stayed out later when I knew I’d have to walk home in the dark when it’s extra cold, because he pauses for a second before replying. “So… tell me about the owner.”

I turn down the next block, skirting around a couple walking in the other direction.

They’re holding hands, and the cold doesn’t seem to bother them as they laugh, cheeks rosy from the slight wind.

I bet Steve looks gorgeous in the snow. His emerald eyes would pop against his fair skin, and his pink lips would get even pinker.

I wonder if he stuffs his curls into a beanie or if he’s more of the ear band type.

Does he like to cuddle up on the couch after a long day?

I realize I’m letting my imagination run away with me – I mean, I’ve only met the guy once, and I’m wondering whether he prefers warming up with sweaters or blankets – when Blake’s amused voice finally breaks through my thoughts.

“Noah? Earth to Noah. Did you freeze somewhere on the street?” he teases. “Do I need to organize a search and rescue mission?”

I shake my head to clear it and finally respond. “No, sorry. I was just thinking about how excited I am to get home and warm up.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” comes Blake’s knowing voice.

Sometimes I wish he didn’t know me so well.

Then he wouldn’t be able to call me on my shit so easily.

Oh, who am I kidding? I love that he’s not going to let this go.

I’d be the exact same with him. “It’s not at all to do with the person you were chatting with for over an hour when our first meetings typically take less than thirty minutes. ”

“Okay, you got me,” I say as I let myself into our apartment building.

Heat, finally! “I was thinking about Steve and how he’d probably be perfect to warm up with on a cold night.

He was so sweet, Blake. You should’ve heard the way that he talked about his pup, Stacy.

And he’s gorgeous. I swear his eyes twinkled whenever he laughed. ”

As I continue to tell Blake all about Steve, I trudge up the stairs, and before I know it, I’m at our door. When I swing it open, my best friend is waiting for me on the couch, biting back a smile as he ends our phone call.

“Dude, you’ve got it bad.”

I can’t even try to deny it.