The CEO's Dilemma
Wow.
The man who walked up to the line was, in a word, scrumptious. Much taller than Aisha's five feet ten, he stepped close with a sexy walk and straight back, frowning down at his phone before shoving the device into the pocket of his gray workout pants. Despite the frown, his deeply set eyes had laugh lines around them and the corners of his defined mouth were gently creased. Like icing on a cake she wanted to devour with both hands, a glinting silver frosted the temples of his neatly trimmed back hair.
He was basically every daddy fantasy Aisha never knew she had come to life.
Like a greedy kid facing a second helping of cake, she licked her lips. God, to have a taste of that...
With his height, people probably asked him if he played basketball—if basketball players walked around with bagged yoga mats slung over a wide shoulder and wore tank tops advertising the Bilbao Guggenheim Museum. She idly noticed that he wore the same black Nike high-tops her brother had. And, thankfully, no wedding ring.
Wow, Aisha thought again, her throat drying up.
“Are you all right?” Hot Yoga Daddy asked in a deep and luscious voice, directly meeting her eyes.
She had to swallow a couple of times to stop herself from stammering like a complete idiot. “Um...yeah. Just shook by all your sexy.” Brilliant, Aisha. He probably thinks you were dropped on your head as a child. Aisha cleared her throat and stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Aisha.”
A smile slipped into the creases around his mouth and eyes. “And you’re forward.”
The line moved up a little as the person in front ordered and stepped aside to wait.
“If you don’t ask for what you want in this life, you never get it,” she said, smiling back into his eyes.
There was something in his face that reminded her of gargoyle statues perched atop Notre-Dame. His features were too strong to be called handsome, but the strength in them was also what made her want to grab on to his wide shoulders and never let go.
Down, girl.
“You realize you’re young enough to be my kid?” He arched an eyebrow in her direction.
“Only if you started procreating in middle school,” she said.
He huffed a laugh. “Now that’s a disturbing thought.”
“Exactly. Which is why you should stop saying that to girls trying to get your number.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do?”
Giving up any lingering subtlety, she gave his toned arms a long and appreciative look. “Absolutely.”
“What can I get for you?”
Aisha turned around to face the woman at the counter. Damn, she wasn’t ready to let this conversation go. “A large coffee, please, with a shot of French vanilla and room for cream.”
When the woman moved away to make her coffee, Aisha turned back to Hot Yoga Daddy with a flirtatious smile.
“You’re very, very sweet,” he said with a regretful shake of his head, still smiling down at her. “But a little too tender for me.”
“That’ll be four dollars even.” The woman came back with the coffee, looking with interest between Aisha and the man she wanted to be the father of her children.
Hot Yoga Daddy slid a five across the counter before Aisha could move. “Let me get your coffee instead of that number you want.”
So not an equal trade.
Chuckling, the woman snatched up his money and put the change in the tip jar at his nod in that direction.
Swallowing her disappointment, Aisha picked up her coffee and slowly stepped back so the man could get to the business of ordering whatever he’d come for. “A pity you’re not up to the challenge,” she said once he’d placed his order for half a dozen assorted cupcakes and a large hot chocolate with cayenne pepper and whipped cream.
His eyes widened at the dare in her voice and his smile grew, making the crinkles at the corners of his eyes sexier than they had any right to be. Normally she wasn’t into older men. Too many control issues. Too much baggage. But his incongruities intrigued her.
Yoga mat. Cupcakes. Muscular arms. A sense of humor. All that put together was practically her catnip.
“Maybe another lifetime,” he said, toasting her with his hot chocolate as he headed out the door.
Aisha shamelessly watched his muscular butt shift and flex under the gray sweatpants as he walked away. “Damn, he’s fine.”
“You can say that again,” the woman behind the counter agreed with a low chuckle. “Good for you for trying, though.”
Tried but failed. It wasn’t every day Aisha got told no. But into every life a little rain must fall. It really was too bad that it had to be this time.
Aisha sipped her coffee and watched through the bakery’s glass door as the man strolled across the full parking lot. A silver Acura was parked nearby. He reached into his pocket for a set of keys, but instead of opening the Acura as she’d expected, he unlocked the antique, apple-green Ford truck parked next to it.
Again, Wow. Nothing about him was what she expected. Another jolt of disappointment settled in her belly as she watched him drive away and out of her life.
“Aisha.” Her sister’s voice came from just behind her, warm and teasing. “What kind of trouble are you starting now?”
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The man who walked up to the line was, in a word, scrumptious. Much taller than Aisha's five feet ten, he stepped close with a sexy walk and straight back, frowning down at his phone before shoving the device into the pocket of his gray workout pants. Despite the frown, his deeply set eyes had laugh lines around them and the corners of his defined mouth were gently creased. Like icing on a cake she wanted to devour with both hands, a glinting silver frosted the temples of his neatly trimmed back hair.
He was basically every daddy fantasy Aisha never knew she had come to life.
Like a greedy kid facing a second helping of cake, she licked her lips. God, to have a taste of that...
With his height, people probably asked him if he played basketball—if basketball players walked around with bagged yoga mats slung over a wide shoulder and wore tank tops advertising the Bilbao Guggenheim Museum. She idly noticed that he wore the same black Nike high-tops her brother had. And, thankfully, no wedding ring.
Wow, Aisha thought again, her throat drying up.
“Are you all right?” Hot Yoga Daddy asked in a deep and luscious voice, directly meeting her eyes.
She had to swallow a couple of times to stop herself from stammering like a complete idiot. “Um...yeah. Just shook by all your sexy.” Brilliant, Aisha. He probably thinks you were dropped on your head as a child. Aisha cleared her throat and stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Aisha.”
A smile slipped into the creases around his mouth and eyes. “And you’re forward.”
The line moved up a little as the person in front ordered and stepped aside to wait.
“If you don’t ask for what you want in this life, you never get it,” she said, smiling back into his eyes.
There was something in his face that reminded her of gargoyle statues perched atop Notre-Dame. His features were too strong to be called handsome, but the strength in them was also what made her want to grab on to his wide shoulders and never let go.
Down, girl.
“You realize you’re young enough to be my kid?” He arched an eyebrow in her direction.
“Only if you started procreating in middle school,” she said.
He huffed a laugh. “Now that’s a disturbing thought.”
“Exactly. Which is why you should stop saying that to girls trying to get your number.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do?”
Giving up any lingering subtlety, she gave his toned arms a long and appreciative look. “Absolutely.”
“What can I get for you?”
Aisha turned around to face the woman at the counter. Damn, she wasn’t ready to let this conversation go. “A large coffee, please, with a shot of French vanilla and room for cream.”
When the woman moved away to make her coffee, Aisha turned back to Hot Yoga Daddy with a flirtatious smile.
“You’re very, very sweet,” he said with a regretful shake of his head, still smiling down at her. “But a little too tender for me.”
“That’ll be four dollars even.” The woman came back with the coffee, looking with interest between Aisha and the man she wanted to be the father of her children.
Hot Yoga Daddy slid a five across the counter before Aisha could move. “Let me get your coffee instead of that number you want.”
So not an equal trade.
Chuckling, the woman snatched up his money and put the change in the tip jar at his nod in that direction.
Swallowing her disappointment, Aisha picked up her coffee and slowly stepped back so the man could get to the business of ordering whatever he’d come for. “A pity you’re not up to the challenge,” she said once he’d placed his order for half a dozen assorted cupcakes and a large hot chocolate with cayenne pepper and whipped cream.
His eyes widened at the dare in her voice and his smile grew, making the crinkles at the corners of his eyes sexier than they had any right to be. Normally she wasn’t into older men. Too many control issues. Too much baggage. But his incongruities intrigued her.
Yoga mat. Cupcakes. Muscular arms. A sense of humor. All that put together was practically her catnip.
“Maybe another lifetime,” he said, toasting her with his hot chocolate as he headed out the door.
Aisha shamelessly watched his muscular butt shift and flex under the gray sweatpants as he walked away. “Damn, he’s fine.”
“You can say that again,” the woman behind the counter agreed with a low chuckle. “Good for you for trying, though.”
Tried but failed. It wasn’t every day Aisha got told no. But into every life a little rain must fall. It really was too bad that it had to be this time.
Aisha sipped her coffee and watched through the bakery’s glass door as the man strolled across the full parking lot. A silver Acura was parked nearby. He reached into his pocket for a set of keys, but instead of opening the Acura as she’d expected, he unlocked the antique, apple-green Ford truck parked next to it.
Again, Wow. Nothing about him was what she expected. Another jolt of disappointment settled in her belly as she watched him drive away and out of her life.
“Aisha.” Her sister’s voice came from just behind her, warm and teasing. “What kind of trouble are you starting now?”
Click HERE to buy.
