The Normal Kind of Crazy (Crazy #1) Read online

  I hear him tinkering with the espresso machine when the timer for the cinnamon rolls goes off. I take them out and realize I’m short a display stand. Dragging the step stool over, I climb up to get one off the top shelf.

  “It was the tubing again. I fixed it but it’s more of a band aid to get you through until I can get a new part here.” I turn as I hear him and lose my footing. Great, I’m going down and it doesn’t look pretty. You know the blushing thing? Some girls are the same way with falling; they just have a grace that I wasn’t blessed with. This is why when Rice moved with lightening quick reflexes to catch me I somehow ended up with his face pressed right between my boobs. I’m fairly confident in my own skin but being pressed up against the body of this perfect Adonis, Gisele would be questioning her figure. If I’m being honest I have a little left to lose but pressed against his hard chiseled body I felt like those ten…ok, fifteen…fine, twenty pounds, were forty. There wasn’t a graceful way to get off him and in my fuddled brain sliding down his body seemed like the logical thing to do.

  I’m finally face to face with him and looking into his piercing blue eyes. I can see the internal battle raging in their depths. Finally, one side wins and he raises his head as he presses his lips to mine. His tongue tangles with mine as I gasp when his hands press my body further into his. He takes like bubble gum with a hint of coffee. I think that is my new favorite flavor. My hands are grasping his shoulders as if they can anchor me to this moment. After what feels like an eternity but at the same time not nearly long enough, I feel a light tug on my hair his hands are firmly but gently pulling my head away from his.

  “Cupcake, we can’t do this,” he sighs as he lays his head back against the cold cement floor. Rejection, hot and searing, washes over me as I scramble to get off of him.

  “Sweets,” I hear him yell after me.

  The slamming of my office door cuts off whatever else he was going to say. I slide down the door as the embarrassment sets in. How could I do that? Sure he’s been flirting with me for the past few months but it’s probably his personality and how he is with everyone. I don’t even know him; I don’t know anything about him. Rolling over I crawl and grab my phone. I send a quick text to Michael: Margaritas my house 8:00. I’ll just tell Kelly when she gets here for her shift. My phone dings instantly with his response: YAASS.TTYL beezy ;)

  Allowing myself only a few more minutes to compose myself, I open the door a sliver to see if he is still here. Luckily he’s left. It just goes to further prove my point that I’m a certifiable idiot. Our kiss obviously didn’t mean anything or affect him the way it did me. Maybe I’m the only one feeling this tug of war. Good thing we open in a few minutes. I’ll have a whole day of customers to get my mind off of him and the fool I made of myself.

  It’s been a constant stream of customers by the time Kelly gets here for her shift at ten. She bustles in from the back with a new plate of croissants, her black corkscrew curls bouncing along her shoulders. Kelly and I have been best friends since elementary school. We were in kindergarten together and hit if off on the first day and have been inseparable ever since. Glancing at the clock I notice it’s almost that time. I grab a cinnamon roll and put it on a plate and get a black coffee, no cream or sugar ready.

  He is walking through the door as I turn around. I grab the counter to hold myself up as he makes his way toward me. He is a Greek god. A Greek god in a suit. A Greek god in a perfectly tailored suit with the most stunning hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s been three weeks since he first walked into the shop and the most we’ve said to each other was, “What can I get you?” “Coffee black, no cream, no sugar and a cinnamon roll.” “That’ll be seven dollars and seventy-two cents.” Then he pays and makes his way to the front table where he sits on his laptop working for a good half the day and then he leaves and it repeats the next day. Although now I don’t even ask what he wants, I have it memorized. I once asked him how his day was and he seemed annoyed and confused as to why I was talking to him so I don’t try anymore. But that doesn’t stop me from drooling over him and dreaming about him at night. Kelly bumps me and hands me a towel as she whispers, “You have a little something,” gesturing to the side of her mouth.

  I slap her hand out of the way. “It just shouldn’t be legal for a man to look like that. He is perfection. Well, almost perfection. His stellar attitude could use an adjustment but I couldn’t have dreamed up a man more perfect than him. Oh, which reminds me, margaritas at my house at eight and this one is a doozy.”

  “Seriously? How can you expect me to wait all day to hear it?” she demands.

  “Because, I promise it is worth it and I can’t bring myself to talk about it yet. I’m choosing denial and pushing it from my mind for the rest of the day.”

  “Oh boy, this sounds good. Are you sure we can’t close early?” I roll my eyes at her so she continues, “So, anything new happen with Wall Street, over there?”

  “No, just the usual. He comes in around 10:15 a.m., I have his coffee and cinnamon roll ready, he sits down and gets to work and that’s about it. All I know is his name’s Brett and that’s only because I had to ask him once when he came in.”

  “I’m just glad we get to look at him. He can sit in the corner being beautiful as much as he wants. He’s the best looking thing in here and if you tell Ben or Michael that, I will kill you and hide your body so no one can find it. Ben would go all cave man on me and Michael would ask about his art hung up on the walls. I’m sorry, but I just don’t get it. It looks like he took paint and threw it on a canvas. Although if Michael were here he would agree looking at that fine piece of man is better than art any day. So, is June excited for her competition tomorrow?”

  Chuckling I answer her, “Yes, she’s picked three swimsuits and one is a bikini. I’m going to have to have the paramedics on standby if she gets up in the bikini. I think Mabel might have a heart attack. I have to give her credit though, she has guts and spunk. Can you imagine if she actually won?”

  The rest of the afternoon flies by and I’m dead on my feet as I’m locking up at 7:00 p.m. I head to the back door and climb the stairs up to my apartment. The clicking of little feet on the wood floor and a happy little squeal reminds me I haven’t let Mr. Darcy outside at all today. “I’m sorry, sweetie, momma is tired and the gang’s coming over. We’ll go out tomorrow, I promise!” I scoop him up on my way to the kitchen and snuggle into his little pig snout. Thank goodness he’s litter box trained or there would be a lot of accidents while I’m gone during the day. I make a mental note to clean up my apartment since I can barely maneuver around my room without stepping on clothes. Vintage clothes are my passion and I treat those babies with respect but it usually takes three or four outfits before I decide on one and putting them back on the hangers while I’m trying to get ready seems like too much work.

  My apartment isn’t huge, a kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms but it’s all mine and is exactly how I want it. Eclectic Bohemian might be a way to describe my design sense but I don’t really feel like I fit into any one label. I like what I like and I don’t care if you can’t mix red with pink or gold with silver. It’s homey and comfortable and where I love to unwind and curl up with a good book. Books are my other passion and I have four huge bookshelves in my living room stuffed with books to prove it.

  I glance at the picture of my mom on the mantel and my hand automatically goes to my necklace I wear every day. It doesn’t get any easier with time. I think the people who say time heals all wounds are full of it. Some wounds never heal. You just learn to live with the pain and not let it cripple you every day. She was a whimsical kind of person, always believing the best in people and finding magic in everyday things. It’s been twenty years and if I didn’t have June and Mabel, I can’t even imagine how differently my life would have turned out. I’ve never met my father and don’t know who he is. I asked June as I got older, thinking my
mom might have told her but June said my mom never told her either.

  Growing up with June was interesting to say the least. Everything was an adventure and she always believed I could do anything I put my mind to. She always reminded me to make sure to watch out for the little guy but to not get taken advantage of and to not put up with any crap. Life just seems brighter around her. Mabel was always the comforting voice of reason. She kept us alive.

  I’ve just pulled off my bra when I hear a knock on the door. Pulling my shirt on, I go and let in Michael and Kelly who are in the middle of laughing. “All right, girl, I brought the Tequila so let’s get mixing so you can get to spilling! Give me all the juicy deets,” Michael says as he sashays into the living room. One might think that when I say sashay I am exaggerating but Michael is the proudest gayest man I know. His dark brown hair is in a perfect coif on the top of his head. His porcelain skin looks even creamier against the bright blue of his sweater and tight black pants. His skin is flawless and void of the freckles that sprinkle my nose. He has an impeccable sense of fashion and I thank my lucky stars he walked into the coffee shop a few months ago asking if I would sell his art. His pieces are amazing and always get sold fast but his friendship is something I wouldn’t trade for the world.

  “Yes, I have been dying to hear this since this morning. I told Ben I wouldn’t be home tonight so let’s get this party started!” Kelly said as she hands over the margarita mix and plops on the couch next to Michael.

  Pulling out the blender from the cabinet I dump everything in and turn it on. I walk back into the living room with the pitcher. Michael pours all of us a drink and we all take a sip. At their cringes I confess, “I might have added a little more tequila than usual, but believe me once you hear this story you will see that it is necessary.” I repeat my encounter with Rice this morning.

  Michael’s jaw is literally hanging open and in true dramatic flair, he uses his hand to close it. “You slithered down him like a snake? And Rice? As in the guy who has been playing sexual chess with you for months? The same guy who is basically everyone’s wet dream,” Michael squeals. “I can’t even. OMG, can you imagine if you two slayed it?” His arms come across his body like he is pulling open imaginary curtains as he says, “Scene change to white dress, flowers, then a baby. Dibbies on wedding planner, no bats.”

  “I think you missed the part where he ended it and rejected me.”

  Kelly playing devil’s advocate says, “You don’t know that’s why he stopped. Maybe he was going to say, ‘We can’t do this right now since you open in a few minutes.’ Or ‘We can’t do this because I have other deliveries.’ I think you need to give him the benefit of the doubt and see what he says at the next delivery.” Smirking, she waggles her eyebrows and asks, “Was it good though?”

  “There aren’t even words, Kel. It was hot. Probably one of the hottest kisses I’ve ever had. It was like our bodies knew each other and just fit together. His beard tickled and was just the right amount of roughness to be amazingly sensual. And then he ended it and I ran away like a little girl!” I muffle through the pillow I’m hiding my face under, “Why couldn’t I have said something witty and mature?”

  “Because hot guys muddle our brains and make us lose rational thought. And honestly, I’ve done worse. You just pretend like it didn’t faze you and you slay guys in your kitchen all the time,” replies Michael. Reaching to pour more margaritas he asks, “So, other than the embarrassing story, what about your other eye candy? Anything happen with Wall Street yet?”

  I sigh as I answer, “No, and I don’t think anything will. He is perfect and totally obviously not interested. But I can still drool over him every day and I’ll be happy about that. Now let’s move on from my crappy nonexistent love life. Kelly is happy and in love with Ben, her very own prince charming in a tool belt, but what about you, Michael? Any hot beef cakes you haven’t told us about?”

  “Ugh, sadly, no. There was a model I was going to paint but he turned out to be a hetty so I didn’t see the point in continuing a professional relationship when all I wanted was a very unprofessional relationship,” he says giggling. “I do have a fundraiser next week and the main artist is hashtag dreamy and an otter. So obvi I’ll be hitting that. You guys should come with me! We can pre-game and get fabulous here.” Kelly and I glance at each other. Normally when Michael says he wants to get fabulous and have a night out we end up with crazy makeovers, wearing ridiculous clothes, and it usually ends with him abandoning us to go hook up with someone or he is crying on our laps. He can see our hesitancy because he adds, “No drama, cross my heart hope to die stick a needle in my eye.” Then he starts with his whinny voice and pout, “Besides, all I’ve been doing is binging on Netflix. It’s been so long since I’ve been out I’m basically Jurassic. The only guys I meet are bears and, hello, we all know I want an otter. What do you say? Please? Pretty please?” He goes for big puppy dog eyes and sticks out his bottom lip.

  Kelly shakes her head, “I really can’t. I’m sorry. Ben and I have a birthday party for his dad.”

  “Fine, yes. Yes, I will go with you,” I finally agree. His excited shrieks pierce my ears as he launches himself off the couch and on top of me. After pressing about one hundred kisses to my face he gets off of me and picks up two movies.

  “Which one, Beaches or Magic Mike?” he asks holding up the DVDs. All three of us look at each other and in unison yell, “Magic Mike,” as we fall in a heap of giggles on the floor.

  I pop some popcorn and the three of us snuggle into each other on the couch as Mr. Darcy falls asleep in my lap. Michael passes out on the couch and Kelly heads to the guest room as I carry Mr. Darcy to bed.

  “Hey, Immy?” Kelly softly calls out as she leans against the door.

  “Yeah?”

  She pauses like she is thinking about what she wants to say and then decides against it, “Thanks for tonight, it’s been way too long since we had a girls’ night. Night. Love ya.”

  “Love you too. You’re the peanut butter to my jelly.” I whisper back as I shut my door. I set Mr. Darcy down so he can do his business in the litter box while I brush my teeth. Then I scoop him up and climb into bed. I snuggle down into my grey and purple comforter as I set my alarm for 4:00 a.m. I’ll probably regret all those margaritas when I have to get up in the morning but this girls’ night was just what I needed. My life is great. I have wonderful friends and family who are loving and supportive. I have my dream job and I’m my own boss. There’s just this feeling that won’t go away. Like I’m waiting for my life to start or something is missing. Maybe it’s time for a vacation. Exotic beaches and green Scottish hills occupy my dreams until they’re taken over by piercing blue eyes that turn into the most hypnotic hazel eyes.

  CHAPTER TWO

  - Imogen -

  What is that pounding? Is that beeping? Then it hits me, the pounding is in my head and the beeping is the alarm on my phone. I groan as I reach over and try to hit the snooze button on the touch screen but all I manage to do is knock my phone in between my bed and nightstand.

  “Why in the world did I drink that much?” I mumble to myself. My fingers finally wrap around my phone as I remember the reason for the drinking….Rice and that kiss…. I flip back on my bed with my still beeping phone as the embarrassment washes over me again. At least I don’t have to face him for another day. Wait, why should I be the only one embarrassed? I know what I’ve got to do. I’ve got to do what Michael said and act like nothing happened. That it wasn’t one of the single hottest things I have ever experienced in my life. Knowing it and being able to do are two completely different things.

  I shower and get dressed. Then I quietly slip out the front door so as not to wake Michael who is still sprawled out on the couch. There are times when the hours of a coffee shop make me rethink my choice of opening a coffee shop and working in said coffee shop. Right about now I’m wondering why I
didn’t open a lunch only café. This aspirin better help since today is going to be a long day and then I have June’s competition tonight.

  Luckily I manage to get all the pastries made and open without screaming at anyone or taking a hammer to my head. When we have sleepovers Kel just starts her shift when she’s ready instead of waiting until ten and I’m thanking every deity I can think of that I hear her making her way up front.

  “Oh my good heavens, don’t you dare let me drink that much again, Imogen Cordelia Jones! And I don’t care what you say I’m keeping these on,” she says as she points to oversized sunglasses, “because I swear I’m looking directly at the sun and there are tiny men with jackhammers in my head. If you so much as even think about telling me to take them off you can just fire me.”

  I just laugh and hand her a bottle of water and aspirin. “Are you guys coming to June’s competition tonight?”

  “We were going to, but Ben decided to surprise me with a romantic date into the city so we’re going to have to pass. Plus I don’t know if I can compete with her in a bikini; he might be disappointed for the rest of his life.”

  “I get it. If she wasn’t so excited I would try to find a way out of it. Where she gets these crazy ideas I’ll never know. Are you still okay to close up tonight? They go on stage at seven so I’m hoping to be home by nine.”