Marquetta laughed. “A cappuccino wasn’t what you were imagining, huh?”
He shook his head as his libido took a nosedive. Cappuccino? No. Feasting on her body in the quiet confines of his bedroom? Hell, yes. But if coffee put a smile on the woman’s face, then he’d suck it up and do what he had to do.
Ten minutes later, he was sitting in a cozy little café, sipping on a mug full of something hot with a hint of vanilla. It was a far cry from his usual Maxwell House, but if it got her out of the bar and away from the lecherous stares of the men inside, then yee-haw. “What is it about places like that crowded, noisy bar that makes people gravitate toward them? All it does is make me feel claustrophobic.”
Marquetta peered up at him. “The companionship. That need to forget all your problems, even if it is only for a few hours.”
Jensen considered her words. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, all signs of teasing gone. “Is that why you were there tonight, Marquetta? To forget your troubles?”
Marquetta’s face heated, as if she hadn’t expected him to pick up on that. “Yes, I wanted to…put my worries aside for a little while.”
Jensen took her hand in his, noticing how she automatically laced her fingers with his own. He didn’t think she even realized she’d done it. “I don’t like to see you sad, sweetheart.”
The genuine concern in Jensen’s tone surprised her. “Everyone gets sad sometimes.”
She had no idea what was going through Jensen’s mind as he stared across the small table at her. He’d barely touched his cup of hot, vanilla-flavored cappuccino.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
As she stared at him, a slight frown creased his brows, and all she could think about was kissing it away. “Huh?”
Marquetta chuckled. “The cappuccino. Do you like it?”
Jensen glared at his barely touched cup as if it were going to bite him. “Uh, it’s not exactly a Corona, but it’s okay.”
She cringed at his comparison, then watched in astonishment as he picked up the mug and sipped again. He made a face and swallowed as if sharp pieces of glass were sliding down his throat, instead of the rich, sweet-flavored drink. She tilted her head, totally confounded by him. “But then, why on earth are you drinking it?”
His brows knitted together as if utterly confused. “Because you asked me to, why else?”
That confused her no end. “Are you telling me you’re only drinking that because I wanted you to?”
Jensen quirked a brow at her. “Sweetheart, do I look like a cappuccino kind of guy to you?”
Marquetta simply didn’t know what to say to that. He was forcing himself to drink something he hated, and all because she wished to share a cappuccino with him. What was she supposed to think when he did things like that? Sometimes he made her feel as if everything she did, everything she said was of the utmost importance to him. He was so different from Sheldon, and for some reason, that scared her. She didn’t know how to handle his genuine kindness. If she wasn’t careful, her heart was going to fall right into Jensen’s waiting hands.
She moved to take the cup from him, but Jensen stopped her by placing his hand on hers. His felt large and warm to her smaller hand. “Earlier at the bar, you had a question for me,” he said.
Marquetta cleared her throat. “Yes, I asked what you do for a living.”
She still didn’t draw her hand away, and Jensen seemed to take her hesitance as an attempt to keep him from drinking the coffee. “I’m a financial analyst.” He placed a kiss on the back of her hand before setting their connected hands on the table beside the cup.
“What is that exactly?” she asked as she made a valiant effort to calm her racing pulse.
“In a nutshell, I study financial data that helps corporations make sound investment decisions. Crap like spreadsheets and financial reports. Sort of boring, really.”
Jensen sat back, getting more comfortable in the small booth. Beneath the table, there was a lot of legroom, and Marquetta noticed Jensen had maneuvered his legs along either side of hers, all but caging her in. Each time his knees nudged her, it sent a spark of heat through her body.
“If it’s boring, then why do it?”
“It wasn’t always boring.” He cocked his head to the side. “Which is why I recently decided it was time for a change and came up with our Man-Maid idea. But that won’t be up and running for a few weeks yet.”
“I see.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “And what do you do when you aren’t making graphs?”
“The usual guy stuff, I suppose.”
“Watch football and drink beer?” She winked. “Sounds exciting.”
He chuckled. “It’s not all OSU Buckeyes and Bud Light. Sometimes I read too, believe it or not.”