The Butterfly Code by Sue Wyshynski Read Free Book Online Page A

dismay, he turns to leave.
    Just because I’m in here, he can’t stay?
    Before he reaches the door, however, he pauses. Then, with deliberate steps, he turns and approaches the counter. His broad, tapered back is taut. He rolls his shoulders as if to ease the tension and stands reading the menu drilled to the wall.
    The barista says, "Can I get a drink started for you?"
    It’s a moment before he replies. "I’ll take some coffee."
    "Dark or blond?"
    "I’m sorry?"
    "Light or dark roast?"
    "Whatever you recommend."
    "I’m a blond fan myself. Size?"
    "What’s the choice?"
    The guy wrinkles his forehead and laughs. "Uh, small, medium, and large? What, are you from the land where coffee shops don’t exist?"
    "Medium will be fine."
    The barista dispenses it with a chuckle.
    Hunter takes the coffee and stuffs some extra bills in the tip jar. "Have a good day."
    "Likewise, my man."
    And then he’s turning to go. I’d wanted to question him about Dad. I’d wanted a chance to apologize for my rudeness in the bar. I’d wanted to ask why he sought me out with such interest in the first place. Well, this is it. Now is the time.
    I brace myself as he starts walking, trying to work up the courage. My fingers grab at the table edge, causing it to rock slightly. Here I go.
    I’ll simply stand up and . . .
    He’s slowing down. He’s stopped. He’s fingering the lid of his coffee. His big hands are blunt-tipped, and the cup looks small in his grasp. His eyes meet mine. They twinkle like amber in sunlight. Not aggressive or angry. But intelligent. Searching. Curious. Earnest, even. His mouth is well shaped, not too large, not too small. It opens to speak and then closes again. Then it opens a second time. He’s going to speak. Which is great, because I literally can’t. My pulse is racing.
    Suddenly, the coffee shop door bursts open.
    My head whips around. It’s Gage. His blond hair gleams in the entrance, and he wears an expectant grin. He must have seen Dad’s car outside and guessed I was here. Sure enough, he catches sight of me and his grin widens. He doesn’t even notice Hunter until he nearly runs into him.
    "What the—" Gage’s grin turns stony. "What are you doing here?"
    Hunter clears his throat and salutes him with his paper cup. "Hello, Gage."
    "Only my friends call me that."
    "Sounds limiting."
    Gage steps closer so they’re eye-to-eye, until mere inches separate them.
    Every part of Hunter is chiseled for action. Life force hovers around him, almost visible in its strength. I swear he’s radiating an otherworldly glow. His forearms and hands are honed in a way that’s primal, animalistic even. Tigers have that same nonchalance, one that masks a deadly speed. Gage, with all his Viking height, is clearly no pushover, either. I hadn’t realized how strong he looks until this very moment.
    Hunter isn’t looking for a fight, though. Instead, he takes a sip of coffee and winces at the heat. His eyes flash to mine. "Ouch. That could cause an accident."
    Is he referring to my shirt? Is he teasing me?
    I stare, oddly offended, feeling ugly in my wet, see-through top. My crossed arms tighten.
    "Like I said," Gage snarls. "I’m surprised to see you in here."
    Hunter takes a second sip and grimaces. "Nope, still don’t like coffee." He sets the cup down and says, "I hate to cut this fine conversation short, but I’m out of time."
    "Then go."
    "First, I must return the lady’s coat." He raises his jacket as if to cover me, yet only comes halfway. "I believe you dropped this?"
    "I—"
    He bends closer. "I thought you might need it." His voice is so quiet I’m sure only I catch it.
    My hands come up and our fingers touch under the buttery-soft black leather. His are warm and our fingertips lock briefly as if in some spontaneous, private handshake. A thrill shoots to my toes, making me almost dizzy.
    "Thank you," I whisper. Feeling Gage’s eyes drilling into me, I repeat myself, louder. "Yes, thank you." I pull it