Page 2 of Stolen Moments with a Bad Boy

One

E rie

Three Weeks Later

The bell chimed on the door, warning us that a customer had just entered.

My back was turned. I was making a white chocolate latte for my previous customer.

There wasn’t a need for my assistance when my very capable and experienced store manager, Londen, could handle it.

I had just added whipped cream on top of the latte when Londen tapped me on my shoulder for assistance.

“Give me two seconds. I’ll help you,” I said quickly. I carried the latte to my previous customer. “Here you go. Enjoy. We’re up front if you need anything else.”

I turned away and scampered back to Londen.

Finally, I was able to exhale. The mid-afternoon rush had finally died down.

I wiped my hands on the clean cloth hanging from my apron as I rounded the counter and stilled.

When I looked up, my eyes clashed with the warmest, yet amazingly intense, blue eyes I had ever seen.

It was like a scene from a movie when the atmosphere shifted.

All the background noise had quieted, and all I saw was him.

What I needed was for someone to pinch me.

There was no found evidence on how this specimen of a man even existed.

My eyes closed, prompting me to count to ten. Seconds later, I opened them. He still stood there. I decided to pinch myself. Ow. I pouted quietly. This man had me making a fool of myself. My eyes moved around the dining room in a calm manner.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying their meal and not paying attention to the handsome stranger. I gave the mysterious gentleman my full attention. My eyes traversed over his unnatural beauty.

He sported a tapered, wavy fade with a fresh lining. There were sprinkles of salt throughout his hair and full beard, adding that sex appeal to his not so obvious sugar daddy facade. His thick brows bunched together out of curiosity with naturally curled lashes that pointed upward. His skin.

Damn his skin was something to praise. He was the color of a walnut shell, and all of a sudden, I had a hankering for nuts, his nuts to be honest. His lips were so plump with a brown hue that would haunt my dreams for a while. I could tell he kept his lips and skin moisturized.

He didn't shine like a kid who sat front row Sunday morning at church. No, his full lips and tattoos that played peekaboo from his black collared shirt held a light sheen that gave the vibe of hydration. My eyes trailed down his short sleeved shirt that fit perfectly across his sculpted chest.

I felt pregnant just from observing him. He stood well over six feet with the broadest shoulders I’d ever had the chance to ogle at. His ink-covered arms clearly told a story by the way the words and images wove together in different colors and sizes.

His hands were shoved inside his black dress pants. He analyzed me intensely as I did him. I didn’t know who this man was or where he came from. What I did know was that I would make it my business to find out.

Londen cleared her throat.

“Umm, boss lady, you okay?” she asked with apparent humor in her voice.

This fine ass, middle-aged stranger had me spellbound.

I was totally mesmerized because he looked almost angelic, yet underneath all that fineness was something fierce and maybe even a little dangerous.

My instincts never led me wrong. I diverted my eyes to my designer mules to control my breathing.

Plus, I had to mentally give my kitty a stern talking to so she could stop throbbing and end the tidal wave of moisture that seeped into my panties.

She had never showed out like this before.

I cleared my throat, and my eyes connected with his blue irises again.

“Hi, I’m the store owner, Erie. How can I be of assistance?” I probed, extending my hand to him.

He smirked and eyed my hand with a look of his hidden desires until he placed my hand between both of his big and sensual hands.

I could feel the grooves of his calluses, yet they didn’t feel rough and disgusting like some.

There was a powerful yet sensual feeling in his large hands.

The handsome stranger released my hand. He cleared his throat and focused solely on me.

“There's no issue. I just prefer if you take my order, Bella,” he voiced in a heavy Italian accent.

Whoa. Not only was this man drop-dead gorgeous, but he was also Italian.

God was not playing fair when he made him.

I didn’t even know black Italian people were a thing.

The sound of his deep voice went straight to my honeypot, making me take a few deep breaths.

Good grief, I wanted him badly. I tried to play it cool and keep my composure. I had a job to do.

“Um, what does Bella mean?” I queried, nibbling on my lower lip.

He smirked. “It means pretty or beautiful. I find you and your name beautiful, Erie. You’re named after one of our great lakes.”

“Very much true, yet I don’t know your name,” I admitted.

“I’m Janeiro Terelli.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Janeiro. What can I get you?”

While he spouted off his order, I stared at him.

He called me beautiful. I did my happy dance internally before I tuned back into his order.

Once he was done, he flashed a wicked grin that was one for the books.

Baby just didn’t know how he had me teetering on the brink of insanity with his smooth and charming mannerisms. But that grin of his also revealed there was much more to him than met the eye.

My gut told me that if I gave him my time, it would for sure be a wild ride.

I exhaled. The intensity of his glare had me ready to risk it all.

“Thank you for your order, Janeiro. I hope you decide to come here more often. It’s not easy, but I pride myself on being able to service and provide a level of comfort for all my customers and staff.

Londen here will ring you up, and I’ll get started on your order. ”

“Oh, trust. I’ll be back, and not just for the food only. He winked, making me blush.

Londen and I switched places. I hit the bell on the counter that separated the dining room from the kitchen. Brayden, a college student I hired for the summer, popped his head through the small space.

“What you need, boss lady?” he quizzed, smiling at me like a lovesick fool.

“Brayden, I need a turkey and mozzarella panini with red and green peppers and gazpacho soup,” I responded and handed him the ticket.

“I’m on it.” He disappeared to handle the order.

I offered a variety of hot and cold beverages. The different flavored teas and lemonades I offered were a sure hit next to the milkshakes and malts.

While they created his food, I crafted his tropical berry iced tea.

Once done, I turned and looked for him and saw Janeiro sat at one of the tables where we offered a game of chess or checkers to the patrons.

The senior gentlemen that shuffled through were mainly the only ones that played.

It was my way of offering something for all ages.

I tapped his shoulder lightly to get his attention.

He looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes of his, and for a moment, I was stuck.

I shook my head subtly before I gave him my attention again.

“I’m sorry, Janeiro, but there’s no eating or drinking at these tables out of fear of ruining the board and the pieces.”

“Understandable, Bella. Do you play?” he quizzed as he moved to a different seat.

I nodded.

“Yes, I do play. I’m not the best chess player, but I can move around the board,” I stated with a girlish giggle.

“How about after I’m done eating, we play? That’s if you have free time after running this fine establishment of yours.”

I blushed and shook my head. “Yes. I do. I’ll be right back.”

I left to service another customer. Londen delivered his food. When she made her way back to me, we stared at each other for a few seconds before quietly squealing like a bunch of schoolgirls.

“Oh my goodness. Erie, he likes you. That man personally asked for you to service him,” Londen voiced excitedly.

“I know, right? He had me speechless. I ain’t never seen a man as fine as him.”

“And that Italian accent ain’t too shabby either.”

“Hello! I’m wit’ you when you’re right, sis.” We did our handshake. “He also asked me to play chess with him,” I mentioned.

“Do it. Give him a chance and see what he’s about. If there’s no chemistry, then get up and leave. You don’t owe him anything.”

I nodded. “You’re right. I’m going to do it.”

“That’s right, girl,” Londen replied. We slapped five then went about our duties.

While I wiped down my fancy coffee machines, I reflected on how my little café had brought people from many walks of life to us.

It had been three long yet amazing years that Gigi’s Baby Café and Lounge had been up and running.

There had been all kinds of hiccups and major roadblocks, but my perseverance had no limits.

My dreams had no limits. I spent every waking minute working hard to improve my business and supplying my customers with good quality food, drinks, entertainment, and most importantly, customer service.

You could have a bomb ass product or service all day long, but if the staff was shitty, you could pretty much hang it up.

There were fresh fruits and vegetables delivered weekly from local produce farms. The chicken and eggs were free-range because I used a free-range farm a couple of counties over from where my café was located.

My cooks were all well rounded and experienced in cooking multicultural cuisine for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

It was a requirement because I strived to offer not only a visual experience but an explosive palate experience for every customer that visited my café.

My staff that worked the floor and front of the house were very professional and friendly.

I made sure both my managers were on top of their game, supplying the day and night customers with accurate and speedy service.

My staff was well taken care of with full benefits, holiday bonuses, and vacation time.

So much so that there was always someone dropping off an application for a job.

Being a boss and business owner like my dad was what I dreamed about.

As a little girl, I always spent time with my Gigi, and that was where my love for oldies and comfort food was born.

Gigi used to say old school jams and a hot meal were a lethal combination.

Two things were bound to happen—you either found a solution to your problem or you ignored it entirely.

That was my Gigi for you. She was so vibrant and wise beyond her years.

I spent almost every day with her, soaking up her positive vibes, and admiring her outgoing spirit.

When I turned sixteen, Gigi’s health declined mysteriously.

As the days went on, she transformed from a healthy ox to a shell of a woman.

Doctors couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the issue was.

Some speculated cancer, while others twiddled their thumbs.

My Gigi lived to see my extravagant sweet sixteen.

A few weeks later, she suffered a heart attack and passed away.

That was the worst year of my life. When she left, my whole world ended, leaving me with a sibling who would rather do anything than spend time with me.

My Gigi left everything to me in her will, including her and Grandpa’s insurance policies.

I had more money than a little bit. Trust me.

The money wasn’t a factor. The most important thing to me was our memories and the cookbook we created with an oldies jam to go with every recipe. I vowed to make her proud.

The main level was the café. The second floor was the lounge, and the third level was my two-bedroom apartment.

I was more elated than Lamar Odom at that bunny ranch when I was granted my storefront from my daddy.

I spent the whole summer decorating, menu planning, and hiring staff.

With help from my brother’s girlfriend, Londen, and my dad’s forty-year-old girlfriend, Trix, business was up and going within a year.

Thousands of dollars, sweat, and tears went into making this place sparkle and shine like my Gigi would have loved.

Customers made their visits during rain, sleet, snow, and just about any type of inclement weather.

They were loyal and faithful. What could I say; the place was worth the buzz.

I finished my cleaning when a deep voice cleared behind me.

Janeiro stood at the counter with a sexy ass smirk on his face.

“Hey, Bella. How about that game?”