Page 42 of Should Our Hearts Catch Fire

But the smile won’t last if Ellis ends up being late for work because he had to wait ages for his coffee.

It’s a testament to how corrupt Gabe’s work ethic has become whenever this man is involved when he barely hesitates putting the pile of orders on hold and starting on Ellis’ coffee right away. He’s done it before, but that was a different situation. He has no excuse this time.

He beckons Ellis over when he’s done with his coffee and drawing a heart on the cup. No messages today either.

Ellis frowns slightly at the two people in front of him and carefully extracts himself from the queue, heading towardsGabe. He blinks when he sees the cup and a boxed up cinnamon roll that Gabe took the liberty adding to the order.

“Is that mine?”

“I figured you’re in a bit of a hurry.”

Ellis runs a hand through his hair self-consciously. “I must be more of a mess than I thought.”

Don’t say he’s gorgeous.“You’re fine.” There. That sounds normal. “But you’ve never come here so late.”

“Long night,” Ellis confirms Gabe’s theory, shooting him another of those thought-annihilating smiles. “Thank you. And sorry that I can’t stay and chat.”

“That’s fine. I’ve probably talked your ear off by now anyway.”

Ellis chuckles, the sound low and dark, and compromising Gabe’s already poor self-control. “Don’t underestimate how much I can handle.”

Gabe raises an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

Ellis shakes his head almost fondly and reaches for his items, stopping at the last second. “Ah. I haven’t paid yet.”

“Leave it. You can do it on Monday,” Gabe says, blushing a little at his blatant admission that he expects Ellis to be back.

Ellis doesn’t seem to notice, simply saying, “On Monday, then.”

Ellis shows up on Saturday, a laptop tucked under his arm and, for the first time, not wearing a suit. How can dark jeans and a simple gray tee look so good on someone? Holy hell, Gabe can see the outline of his nipples!

Lord have mercy on my poor, depraved soul.

“Are you listening?” Zeke huffs impatiently, probably having asked a question which never made it to Gabe’s deteriorating brain.

“Nope,” he says without taking his eyes off Ellis for a second.

Zeke’s eyes follow in the same direction, and he huffs again. “You’re so whipped, Gabe.”

“Uh-huh.” What’s the point in denying it?

Ellis smiles when he sees Gabe, just a quirk of lips that has Gabe’s stomach doing some elite-level gymnastics, and approaches the counter.

“Hi.”

“Hola,” Zeke greets, smirking.

Gabe discreetly steps on his foot, earning himself a jab between the ribs.

“Hi!” he squeaks. “You know it’s Saturday, right?” he teases, as if he’s not cheering on the inside.

Ellis rolls his eyes. “I do. Not that it matters. In my line of work, days kinda blend together.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to the office today.”

“I’m not.” He holds up the laptop. “I brought work with me.”

As happy as Gabe is to not have to wait until Monday to see Ellis’ lovely face, he hates how much the man works. “Yeah, you can’t do that. It’s one of the conditions of entry that you can’t bring work with you.”