Sappy Heartwood

2: Triple D.

Never give up. Never back down. 

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Chapter Two

Triple D

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As the day passed, Rockies—the cafe's name—got quieter and less busy. Finally, at 5 pm, closing time came, and to say it was a rough day would be an understatement.

I was pretty ready to go home until I spotted the man from earlier sitting alone in the far corner. Do you remember tall, dark, and handsome? The moron who I fell into? Yep, the same guy.

Now that it wasn't busy, I wouldn't be bumped again. I took in the man's appearance. He wore a maroon-coloured jacket, which seemed to be leather; it almost reached his knees. I watched him run a hand through his mousy-blonde hair. Now, I'm not one to check men out, but damn! He's as handsome as they get. Even his short beard made him look hotter. 

The man seemed to stare out our windows as if his mind were elsewhere.

"He's not ordered anything," my co-worker, Angel, said as she wiped down the benchtop. "Go see if he wants something."

"But we close soon?"

She grinned, and her green eyes sparkled with mischief. "Doesn't matter, go on!" she pushed me.

Sometimes, I swear Angel should change her name to Devil or Demon.

Sighing, I tucked a loose strand of my snow-blonde hair behind my left ear. "Whatever," I laughed and approached the man, straightening my apron. I almost walked into a chair but quickly moved around it. "Good afternoon, Sir." I greeted him, pulling out my pad to write his order down. "What would you like?"

Do you know the response I got back?

Nothing, only silence.

"Sir? What do you want to order?"

Silence.

What is his issue? Is he deaf? Did I knock the sense out of him this morning when we collided? Or is he missing some IQ points?

It was as if he heard me because the man tilted his head upwards, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Holy bubblegum! 

He's handsome. Scratch that; handsome is an understatement. 

Dear God, please save me, for I am about to think nasty, unheavenly thoughts.

The man ran a finger along his chin, and thoughts started pouring into my mind like a burst dam. "A glass of warm milk, " he replied, although I didn't quite hear him.

I'm nineteen and still a virgin, mostly because I have morals. But this man, hubba hubba! I'd open my legs to him any damn day of the week. It's like my birthday and Christmas has all come at once.

"Hello?" Fingers clicked in front of my face.

"Excuse me?" Oh, right, I asked if he wanted to order.

Hang on, did he ask for—

The man's dark, mysterious eyes caught mine. "Milk. Warm, not hot." He gestured to my pad.

I struggled to suppress a grin, trying to sneak its way onto my lips. Milk? He wants milk? What is he? A baby? Who the fuck comes to Rockies and simply orders just milk? Whatever, it is what it is, I guess.

Removing a pen from my apron pocket, I wrote down milk. "Um, are you sure you don't want anything else with it?" I asked, to which he shook his head. "Righto, that'll be three dollars."

"Three? For milk?"

I nodded.

He mumbled something and pulled out his wallet, tossing a two and a one-dollar coin onto the table. I took the money, then noticed I had also accidentally picked up his ID card. "I'll be right back," I told him, walking towards the counter.

My eyes shifted to the card in my hand. No, Tziporah, don't do it, my inner voice warned me. Of course, I ignored it, who wouldn't? As I stopped in front of the counter and inspected his identification information. A gasp almost slipped out upon reading it.

. . .

ID Number: 0.0.0.0.1

Name: Finn Daniels

Age: 23

Address: N/A

Company: Global Defense Force (GDF)

Position: CEO, Senior Detective

. . .

Mother fuc-

"Well? What's it say?" Angel asked, glancing over my shoulder. "Holy corn!" she squealed. "He's a detective for the GDF? We don't get many of them around here!"

"What do you mean?" I curiously asked her, placing his card into my pocket.

Angel watched as I put his coins into our cash register. "Well," she began. "The GDF usually don't bother coming here, like never. I mean, why would they? Not even tourists come here."

"Huh?"

"Something significant must be happening," she said.

I glanced back towards the detective. "Oh! he ordered milk," I said out loud.

Angel snorted loudly, I might add. "Milk? Is that all?" I nodded, which made her laugh. "Who would wait all day just to order milk?"

That was my question, too, Angel.

"A moron?" I swiftly replied, smirking. "He's a moron."

"Seems that way," Angel laughed. "Go tell him we'll have his—" her laughter increased, "milk, ready soon."

I merely smacked her arm. When I turned around, the seat was empty, and the detective was gone. Huh? Where did he go? And why was he in such a hurry? I furrowed my brows and then saw him standing outside.

Hello, handsome. What are you doing out there? Well, go see it! Listening to my subconsciousness, I walked towards the opened door.

Hey, what can I say? I'm a curious person.

Fortunately, the tall, mysterious, handsome man didn't hear me open the door. I cupped my hand to my ear to listen to what was being said. Behind me, Angel was very amused; she sent me a grin and a wink.

"Sir, you're our closest agent in the area," a female voice faintly spoke to the detective through the radio he held. "Detective, it's a code M-K 26."

What the fuck is a code M-K 26?

M for milk?

K for... Erm, kilometres?

Don't tell me he drove 26 kilometres for a glass of milk! What a nitwit.

"Location?" Mr Daniels questioned, or should I call him Detective Daniels? Detective Finn?

Oh! How about daddy Daniels?

Dirty Daddy Daniels?

Triple D! Ha! I'm fantastic, I know.

"345 Redcliff Avenue,"

All thoughts of his name suddenly vanished.

Oh my god.

I know that address. It's the place of my best friend Rachel's mum.

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