“Bagels are cheap,” she found herself teasing back. “No more than a quick squeeze for one of those.”
“Not even if I ask for lox?” His eyes were so blue, surrounded by thick lashes. He looked like an angel. A very naughty, flirty angel.
“Not even,” she told him, a smile tugging at her mouth. Then she offered him her hand. “Kylie.”
“Cade,” he told her, shaking her hand. As he held her fingers, he leaned in. “And I can buy my own bagels, truly. I just wanted to see what was on the menu.”
Was he flirting with her or just being polite? When he gestured that she should step in front of him at the counter, she decided that it was simply politeness. He was just a nice guy having a little fun at the coffee shop. She smiled awkwardly at the man behind the counter. “I need a small black coffee, regular blend, and an extra-large iced coffee with a quad-shot of espresso. Loads of sugar and cream.”
Cade chuckled. “Is all that sugar for you?”
She shook her head and held out a twenty to the cashier. “Mine’s the black. I can’t drink all that sugar.”
“Too sweet?”
She stepped aside so he could order, and wondered briefly how blunt she should be with him. Then, she supposed, it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t see him again. “Too many calories. I’m already fat enough.”
“Small black coffee,” Cade told the man behind the counter. He paid and then turned back to Kylie, waiting at the counter while their drinks were prepared.
An uncomfortable silence fell. Kylie gave him a tight expression as he studied her. Then he said, “You know, I happen to think you’re gorgeous.”
A pleased smile curved her mouth. He was so nice. “Aw, thank you. I bet you say that to all the girls in coffee shops.”
“No, I mean it. You’re really lovely. I’m not just saying that to make conversation.” His grin was sincere. “If I was, I’d comment on how I had a friend that used to order a drink just like the one you did. All the espresso in the world, tons of creamer, tons of sugar. She loved it.”
“It’s for my friend, too.” Skinny, skinny Daphne could probably be considered a friend. Theoretically.
He still wore his smile as the barista set both black coffees on the counter, and then went to work on Daphne’s monstrous caffeine concoction. Cade reached for his drink and then offered Kylie hers. His smile no longer seemed friendly, though. It just seemed . . . sad, almost. And it made her wonder.
“So,” she asked, since he didn’t seem to be leaving, “do you live here? In Chicago?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m in town to see a friend. You?”
Kylie shook her head. “Work. We travel a lot.” She avoided mentioning who she worked for. She knew from past experience that even though Cade looked nice and normal—and okay, divinely handsome—the moment she mentioned what she did, people asked for tickets. It was best to just be vague. She gestured at the street. “I was coming here to do a coffee run, actually, and I noticed that car out front.”
“The Lyons roadster?” Cade’s smile quirked and reappeared.
“That’s it,” she said. “It’s really gorgeous.” And it was. A dainty little sports car, the Lyons out front had a hot pink exterior and purple interior that made Kylie adore it despite its impracticality. She had no need for a car due to her job, but if she got one, it’d be something like that flashy little beauty out front. “Makes me wonder about who drives such a thing.”
“Well, I do for the next few hours,” Cade told her, sipping his coffee. At her look of surprise, he added, “Then it’s going into the care of an old friend of mine.”
An old friend? Judging by the utter femininity of the car, she could guess what kind of friend it was. Figured. The good ones were always taken, weren’t they? Of course Cade had a romantic interest. He was gorgeous, funny, charming, dressed well, and judging from the looks of things, had a fair amount of money if he was buying a Lyons for a lady friend. “Well, your friend is quite lucky to have you in her life.”
The smile he gave her was sad and troubled. He looked back at the car thoughtfully, but was silent.
And that made Kylie’s heart ache. Because whoever this handsome man wanted, it was clear he was miserable over her. He didn’t look like a happy man in love. He looked . . . desperate. As if he were running out of options.
Poor guy. She hated to see that.