It isn’t what she expected.
Living in Blue Springs, Missouri isn’t what she expected at all. Her un-expectations, for lack of a better non-word, is so much in fact that she usually spent the entire day standing behind the counter of Blank Page Coffeeshop wondering why she was standing behind the counter. At various points during the day, some random person would come up and ask her for coffee, or a maple Danish, or what-have-you, and automatically, she’d plaster a small town friendly smile on her face, but never realize what she’s done until the customer had left. Then she would be back to staring. Sometimes, she’d grab a crossword puzzle book that she had skillfully hidden behind the bags of sugar in the cabinet under the counter and work on that, but most of the time, she would just stare.
She was, in fact, standing there and staring when he walked in for the first time that winter month of December. It was some time around four. The bell above the glass door jingled like it always does when it prompted the entrance of a customer. Some people turned their heads as a tall, well-built guy wearing a black leather jacket who had a mat of brown hair hidden under a blue baseball cap, which had the letters KC on it, walked towards the counter. They were whispering to each other, their eyes following the guy while Emily--
Emily Taylor was staring. Staring to the point that she hadn’t really noticed a few seconds later when the guy said, “Hey, can I have a cup of coffee and a cupcake, please?”
She continued to stare. At nothing in particular, to be honest, her mind wandering helplessly...
“You can’t go to New York!”
“Watch me!” Emily had yelled angrily at her Dad.
“Listen, young lady, you are twenty-three-years old,” he said. “I realize you’re old enough to decide for yourself, but you can’t go there after graduating top of your class in Biology when for the past ten years, all you’ve talked about is going to medical school. Why would you go there now? You want to become a journalist? Work part-time in a newspaper office!”
“I’m not going to be a journalist or a doctor, Dad,” she replied bitterly. “I’m going to be a writer. I’m going to publish a book—”
“What good is that going to do to you? Books don’t feed your family, Em—”
“I don’t know!” Emily yelled. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, or how I’m going to do it. But I don’t want to get trapped into a job that I hate, Dad. I just don’t.”
Talk about angry words being passed in between. Emily hadn’t been back home for two years. And all this time, she’d sent letters to her parents with a New York address that belonged to one of her friends who forwarded her mail to her just to show them that she was fine. That she was doing well. That she had a decent job for now, and that she was “sifting through offers from publications”. Yeah, right. The stupid novel wasn’t even finished.
“Excuse me?”
Emily blinked. Suddenly, she found herself face-to-face with the most gorgeous eyes she’s ever seen.
“Cupcake?” The guy smirked. For a second, Emily had no idea what he was talking about. She was kind of distracted by the blue-green-brown-what-the-heck-is-that-color eyes. Smoldering come-hither eyes. Eyes that screamed—
“Excuse me?” Emily cleared her throat. “My name isn’t cupcake.”
The guy laughed out loud. Man, he had a nice laugh. “I meant, can I get a cupcake,” he said, chuckling. “And a coffee if you don’t mind.”
Her cheeks flamed as she nodded absently at the mysterious guy who was still grinning at her. Leaving her opened crossword book on the counter, she turned around to get his cupcake and coffee.
As Emily poured the drink into the Styrofoam cup, she heard some rustling of pages, and over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of the guy holding a pen with his left hand and eyeing her crossword that was now turned around so that it faced him. There was something ridiculously rude about people touching your stuff, Emily thought bitterly,as she hurried over back to the counter and pushed the guy’s orders in front of him.
“That’s mine,” Emily said indignantly and possessively.
The guy looked up with a half-smile, his pen frozen over 27-down of the crossword. He placed the pen on the counter top, not answering Emily at first. Then he casually took off his cap, and pushed it in one of his back pockets, and then he ran his hand through his hair. Emily felt her pulse quicken at the sight of his entire face. There was something wildly attractive about that scruff…and those eyes…and those beautiful brown strands that fell over his eyes that made Emily want to reach out and—
“Five-letter word for ‘recumbent’,” he said, smiling at Emily, “is lying.”
Lying. He said it in such a soft, velvety tone that made Emily’s thoughts wander again. But this time, it was inappropriate wandering. I bet lying beside this guy under a blanket in the middle of a cold winter night near a fire place while the white snow fell outside would be—
“Great,” Emily mumbled, shaking her head and mentally pushing thoughts about this stranger away from her mind. She barely knew the guy. “That’s great. Now can I have it back?”
“I was just trying to help,” the guy said, taking his order then handing Emily five bucks. “Keep the change.”
He began to walk away and Emily was finally able to breathe again, when all of a sudden—
“Haven’t seen you around here before.”
The guy was walking back to the counter.
“Excuse me?”
He stood in front of her, placing his cup and cupcake on the marble top of the counter.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he repeated. “I’ve lived here forever. Moved to Tulsa for a few years, but back for now.”
“I haven’t seen you around,” she countered. My, was she flirting?
His smirk was back. “David.” He offered out his hand. “Hello…” he trailed off, waiting for her name.
She wanted to take his hand, and what a big hand it was. You know what they said about big hands, and fingers, and feet—
“Emily.”
As soon as his skin pressed against hers, there was a shock of electricity that went through Emily’s system, and she looked up instantly to see if he felt it.
The guy smiled.
He felt it, thought Emily happily. She hasn’t felt this kind of connection with anybody since—
“Nice to meet you, Emily.”
“You too, David.”
He let her go, and for a moment, Emily wanted to reach out and take his hand again but he began to walk away.
“David!”
What was she doing? Was she calling out his name? Few people turned their heads.
He looked at her, surprised.
“What do you mean, you’re back for now?” she asked. Personally, she’s never heard of this David, and he walked around like he knew everybody, or that everybody knew him, that she vaguely wondered why.
“Taking some months off,” he said. But she had no idea what he meant.
“Off from what?”
She felt so stupid asking. Before she knew it, David was approaching her again. He stood in front of her with a questioning look on his face. And possibly a look of disbelief mixed with surprise.
“You don’t know who I am?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. He looked cute just raising his eyebrow. How was that possible?
“Am I supposed to?”
He laughed. What was so funny?
His gaze fell on the Styrofoam cup of coffee and cupcake that were still on the counter. Emily had forgotten about those too. His big hands took them, handling them carefully, and Emily suddenly noticed the metallic green paint on his finger nails.
“It’s a small town,” David finally said, looking up at Emily once more. “Blue Springs. I’m just a regular Joe passing through.” He winked. And when he turned around this time, he really did walk out.
It would take several days—oh, heck, only twenty four hours actually—before Emily finally found out who David was, and when she did, she looked forward to staring at those glass doors every day with her crossword in front of her.
Living in Blue Springs, Missouri isn’t what Emily expected at all. And now that David Cook was back, it was everything and more.
Living in Blue Springs, Missouri isn’t what she expected at all. Her un-expectations, for lack of a better non-word, is so much in fact that she usually spent the entire day standing behind the counter of Blank Page Coffeeshop wondering why she was standing behind the counter. At various points during the day, some random person would come up and ask her for coffee, or a maple Danish, or what-have-you, and automatically, she’d plaster a small town friendly smile on her face, but never realize what she’s done until the customer had left. Then she would be back to staring. Sometimes, she’d grab a crossword puzzle book that she had skillfully hidden behind the bags of sugar in the cabinet under the counter and work on that, but most of the time, she would just stare.
She was, in fact, standing there and staring when he walked in for the first time that winter month of December. It was some time around four. The bell above the glass door jingled like it always does when it prompted the entrance of a customer. Some people turned their heads as a tall, well-built guy wearing a black leather jacket who had a mat of brown hair hidden under a blue baseball cap, which had the letters KC on it, walked towards the counter. They were whispering to each other, their eyes following the guy while Emily--
Emily Taylor was staring. Staring to the point that she hadn’t really noticed a few seconds later when the guy said, “Hey, can I have a cup of coffee and a cupcake, please?”
She continued to stare. At nothing in particular, to be honest, her mind wandering helplessly...
“You can’t go to New York!”
“Watch me!” Emily had yelled angrily at her Dad.
“Listen, young lady, you are twenty-three-years old,” he said. “I realize you’re old enough to decide for yourself, but you can’t go there after graduating top of your class in Biology when for the past ten years, all you’ve talked about is going to medical school. Why would you go there now? You want to become a journalist? Work part-time in a newspaper office!”
“I’m not going to be a journalist or a doctor, Dad,” she replied bitterly. “I’m going to be a writer. I’m going to publish a book—”
“What good is that going to do to you? Books don’t feed your family, Em—”
“I don’t know!” Emily yelled. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, or how I’m going to do it. But I don’t want to get trapped into a job that I hate, Dad. I just don’t.”
Talk about angry words being passed in between. Emily hadn’t been back home for two years. And all this time, she’d sent letters to her parents with a New York address that belonged to one of her friends who forwarded her mail to her just to show them that she was fine. That she was doing well. That she had a decent job for now, and that she was “sifting through offers from publications”. Yeah, right. The stupid novel wasn’t even finished.
“Excuse me?”
Emily blinked. Suddenly, she found herself face-to-face with the most gorgeous eyes she’s ever seen.
“Cupcake?” The guy smirked. For a second, Emily had no idea what he was talking about. She was kind of distracted by the blue-green-brown-what-the-heck-is-that-color eyes. Smoldering come-hither eyes. Eyes that screamed—
“Excuse me?” Emily cleared her throat. “My name isn’t cupcake.”
The guy laughed out loud. Man, he had a nice laugh. “I meant, can I get a cupcake,” he said, chuckling. “And a coffee if you don’t mind.”
Her cheeks flamed as she nodded absently at the mysterious guy who was still grinning at her. Leaving her opened crossword book on the counter, she turned around to get his cupcake and coffee.
As Emily poured the drink into the Styrofoam cup, she heard some rustling of pages, and over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of the guy holding a pen with his left hand and eyeing her crossword that was now turned around so that it faced him. There was something ridiculously rude about people touching your stuff, Emily thought bitterly,as she hurried over back to the counter and pushed the guy’s orders in front of him.
“That’s mine,” Emily said indignantly and possessively.
The guy looked up with a half-smile, his pen frozen over 27-down of the crossword. He placed the pen on the counter top, not answering Emily at first. Then he casually took off his cap, and pushed it in one of his back pockets, and then he ran his hand through his hair. Emily felt her pulse quicken at the sight of his entire face. There was something wildly attractive about that scruff…and those eyes…and those beautiful brown strands that fell over his eyes that made Emily want to reach out and—
“Five-letter word for ‘recumbent’,” he said, smiling at Emily, “is lying.”
Lying. He said it in such a soft, velvety tone that made Emily’s thoughts wander again. But this time, it was inappropriate wandering. I bet lying beside this guy under a blanket in the middle of a cold winter night near a fire place while the white snow fell outside would be—
“Great,” Emily mumbled, shaking her head and mentally pushing thoughts about this stranger away from her mind. She barely knew the guy. “That’s great. Now can I have it back?”
“I was just trying to help,” the guy said, taking his order then handing Emily five bucks. “Keep the change.”
He began to walk away and Emily was finally able to breathe again, when all of a sudden—
“Haven’t seen you around here before.”
The guy was walking back to the counter.
“Excuse me?”
He stood in front of her, placing his cup and cupcake on the marble top of the counter.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he repeated. “I’ve lived here forever. Moved to Tulsa for a few years, but back for now.”
“I haven’t seen you around,” she countered. My, was she flirting?
His smirk was back. “David.” He offered out his hand. “Hello…” he trailed off, waiting for her name.
She wanted to take his hand, and what a big hand it was. You know what they said about big hands, and fingers, and feet—
“Emily.”
As soon as his skin pressed against hers, there was a shock of electricity that went through Emily’s system, and she looked up instantly to see if he felt it.
The guy smiled.
He felt it, thought Emily happily. She hasn’t felt this kind of connection with anybody since—
“Nice to meet you, Emily.”
“You too, David.”
He let her go, and for a moment, Emily wanted to reach out and take his hand again but he began to walk away.
“David!”
What was she doing? Was she calling out his name? Few people turned their heads.
He looked at her, surprised.
“What do you mean, you’re back for now?” she asked. Personally, she’s never heard of this David, and he walked around like he knew everybody, or that everybody knew him, that she vaguely wondered why.
“Taking some months off,” he said. But she had no idea what he meant.
“Off from what?”
She felt so stupid asking. Before she knew it, David was approaching her again. He stood in front of her with a questioning look on his face. And possibly a look of disbelief mixed with surprise.
“You don’t know who I am?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. He looked cute just raising his eyebrow. How was that possible?
“Am I supposed to?”
He laughed. What was so funny?
His gaze fell on the Styrofoam cup of coffee and cupcake that were still on the counter. Emily had forgotten about those too. His big hands took them, handling them carefully, and Emily suddenly noticed the metallic green paint on his finger nails.
“It’s a small town,” David finally said, looking up at Emily once more. “Blue Springs. I’m just a regular Joe passing through.” He winked. And when he turned around this time, he really did walk out.
It would take several days—oh, heck, only twenty four hours actually—before Emily finally found out who David was, and when she did, she looked forward to staring at those glass doors every day with her crossword in front of her.
Living in Blue Springs, Missouri isn’t what Emily expected at all. And now that David Cook was back, it was everything and more.
but writing about David is more fun 
