Going back to the search results, he found a few articles from her time at the University of Washington. Some research papers she had worked on for her degree. She had very little social media, what he did find was locked down from random eyes.
That had to be a good sign he figured. Clearly not a party girl who liked to post her exploits online. But it also didn’t give him hardly any information about her at all. Who was she?
Wyatt hatched a plan, tomorrow morning he was starting his Operation Woo Jinger. And it was starting with coffee and donuts.
Chapter 7
Jinger had not slept well. In fact, she slept awful, when she was finally able to go to sleep that was. First she avoided two voice messages from her mother who seemed to have some sixth sense when she was in emotional upheaval. And then she tried to self-medicate with jalapeño poppers, which although delicious, was a perfect recipe for heart burn. A few antacids later she fell into a fitful sleep where she dreamed about green eyes and brown hair and big glorious muscles.
Her traitorous brain also managed to construe just what Wyatt Rochon looked like naked. And if real life was even close to her imagination she knew without a doubt this man was out of her league.
She woke up cranky and feeling quite depressed. Jinger knew she needed to push Wyatt out of her head and focus on her work. She probably would never see him ever again anyway. It’s not like they ran in the same circles.
Once she was at work she settled into her desk and tried to show a modicum of enthusiasm while she looked through her emails. Her phone buzzed from the front desk, “Jinger, there is someone here to see you. I hope you don’t mind, but I sent him back to your desk.”
“Sure, that’s fine Mary,” Jinger said disinterestedly. She probably forgot she had an appointment. She was pulling up her calendar when she felt a presence behind her. Spinning around she had to crane her neck back to see who had just invaded her cubicle.
Wyatt Rochon.
Wyatt Rochon was standing in her cubicle sporting a hunky smile and jeans that were altogether too tight and way too close to her face. In his hands was a pink pastry box and in the other a drink carrier holding two cups of coffee with all the fixings spread around them.
“Good Morning, gingersnap,” he said cockily.
“Uh, Wyatt. What are you doing here? Did we have an appointment,” she stuttered. She really was not prepared to deal with him this morning. Because, of course, now her brain was replaying all the naughtiness it had thought up last night and she could feel the blush steal across her cheeks.
Gawd, this was not happening, she thought.
“I figured, the reason you turned down my offer for coffee, was because I forgot the most important part. Donuts! See if I had sweetened the deal with them in the first place you would have of course said yes. So since it was my fault I wasn’t clear, I figured I would rectify the situation by dropping by with breakfast. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind sharing them with me?” Dropping the box on her desk, he sat in the side chair at the end of her desk.
Jinger saw the sticker on the top of the box that said Sasquatch Donuts. Those were best, fresh, extra sugary, and perfect with coffee.
“How do you take it?”
Still sputtering she said, “Take what?”
“Your coffee, black? Cream and sugar?”
“Oh, cream, two sugars,” she managed.
“Should have known,” he said smiling and setting down the coffee to pop the tops off and add her sugar and creamer.
“Known what?”
“You like it sweet,” he teased, flashing that gorgeous grin at her again.
“Umm…” that was all she could manage. She must be hallucinating. She could see her coworkers popping up over their cubicle walls like a bunch of nosey meerkats trying to catch a glimpse of whoever was attached to that stunning voice. And his voice was like honey, smooth and way too tempting.
“I take mine with three sugars in case you’re interested. I also like it sweet,” he said adding the packets to his own coffee. He handed Jinger her cup and then flipped open the top of the pastry box. “You pick first, I didn’t know what you like so I got a mix.”
“I’m not really hungry,” she said remembering she’d already snarfed down a plate of enchiladas in front of him. She wasn’t about to reveal her horrific donut addiction too. She should be in a twelve step group for donut junkies. She loved them, all of them. It was so bad, she refused to even buy them. Not even one, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Now, gingersnap, I know you’re fibbing. Even if you weren’t hungry, you wouldn’t really make me sit here all by myself when I personally picked out each of these little gems as I thought of you. I found the prettiest ones they sold hoping you’d like them,” he said sticking his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout.