“What is going on? Why is today so insane? Seth quietly wined to Honey, so that the tourists wouldn’t hear him. “Have I mentioned I hate Mondays?”

Customers waiting their turn in line packed The Corner. Honey and Seth worked behind the counter moving with as much speed as the espresso machine would allow. They filled orders with precision and charm to stave off the wrath of a herd of hungry, cranky tourists in need of their afternoon decaf and cinnamon rolls. Slowly, the crowd filtered out and onto the waiting buses. When the last of the crowd left, Honey and Seth both wilted, draping their bodies onto the counter.

Morgan stood over them. “You look like you’re ready for a break.”

Honey smiled up at the deep warm voice. She rolled her head to the side, too tired to lift. “Hi, Morgan.” Her voice sounded so tired that her words slurred together. “I am so ready for a break.”

“You can’t go yet.” Seth snapped up as if his batteries had instantly recharged. “I haven’t had my fifteen yet, and you’re gonna be gone for thirty. So, no, you’re not ready for a break. I have to take mine first.”

Honey rolled her head to the other side so she could glare at Seth. He had a bad habit of doing this to her. No, he hadn’t had his break yet, but honestly, he could wait. She had been there for over four hours and he hadn’t. She needed to get out of the café. More importantly, Morgan was here. She sighed, pushing herself back into an upright position. Laying on the counter was probably not on the health inspector’s list of acceptable activities for the surface anyway. She rolled her eyes in Seth’s direction. “Do you mind waiting a bit longer, so Wonder Boy can take his fifteen?”

“Sure.” Morgan took a seat in one of the heavily cushioned chairs.

She turned to Seth. “Run.” She said the word in a menacing tone as if the permission for him to leave on break was a threat.

With the tourists gone, it was quiet in the café. Honey picked up a wipe cloth, meandered to be near Morgan, and began flicking the rag mindlessly across the top of a table.

Honey rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s been nuts today. Like it’s some holiday or a long weekend. It’s not, is it?”

Morgan shook his head.

“Monday’s aren’t usually this busy. Lots of big groups came through today, like that one that just left. But lots of them. Bus after bus after bus. It’s the kind of day Lana loves. Lots of customers, lots of coffee, lots of extra things getting sold.”

“Did you see?” Honey asked, gesturing.

Morgan’s gaze followed her pointing finger to a display of coffee mugs and refillable drinking cups. “That’s new.” Morgan acknowledged.

“Yep. Lana put it up yesterday. We also now have postcards and other little things. It’s going to be a pain in the ass because all that stuff is taxable. So we now have to make sure sales tax is calculated on the taxable items and not the food items. It’s a mess. It’s why that last group took so freaking long. In fact, every group has taken freaking long today. Just like Seth is.” Honey looked around to see if she could see Seth approaching through one of the windows. “How long has that little stinker been gone?”

Honey turned, tripped over Morgan’s feet, staggered trying to regain her balance then fell heavily into his lap. She blinked a few times, staring into Morgan’s hazel eyes. They seemed to flash with gold. She blinked some more trying to get her orientation back.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry.” She started to shift out of his lap.

Morgan put his arms around her. “Stay.”

Honey stopped moving and looked at him. His lips were a lean away from a kiss. Kiss him. Just lean in and kiss him.

Morgan snickered, “I won’t tell anyone you took a pre-break break. I’m the only one in here right now anyway.”Morgan reached up, and with one of his large hands, covered the middle of her shoulders. She let out a low groan as he began massaging the muscles along the top of her back and neck.

“Oh, that feels good.” She moaned and leaned back into his touch. Honey closed her eyes, and let the tension melt away under Morgan’s warm hand. She didn’t notice time as Morgan rubbed with his fingers and dug into her back with his thumb.

Morgan lifted her arm and pushed up her sleeve exposing a tattoo of delicate pink blossoms encircling her thin arm slightly above her elbow. He traced their path for a moment. His fingers tickled, Honey’s nerves danced in response, wanting him to trace more than just her ink work.

“They are from Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. They are the flowers floating in the air around the Zephyrs, as they blow life into Venus. They don’t symbolize anything. I just liked them.” She watched Morgan’s face as he looked at her tattoo. How had she not considered him handsome before? He had a few character lines from smiling and laughing around his eyes, and working in the sun helped to emphasize his swarthy completion.

“They’re very well done. What’s the piece on your back?” Morgan’s attention was still on her skin. Her toes curled from watching his mouth move this close up.

“When did you see my back? It’s always covered.”

“I caught a glimpse when you were moving paintings around.”

“It’s a big close up of a lotus blossom, sort of Georgia O'Keeffe meets Buddhism. I got it to symbolize that I had grown past my modeling and materialistic needs. Of course, I realize now I hadn’t really. I was with Bryce. He was very much a materialistic choice.”

“And Zephyr’s flowers what do they signify?” Morgan shifted his attention and looked Honey in the eyes. She dropped her gaze away from his intense look.

“I like flowers. I got them for kicks and giggles. The big piece on my back I never finished because I left San Francisco before I could get it done. Actually, Bryce hated it. He wanted me to have it lasered off. I had the Zephyr flowers when we met. He never said boo about them. But when I started the back piece, he pitched a fit. He controlled the money, so he made sure I never really had enough to get it finished.” Honey scoffed. “I should have left him then. My body, my art, my rules.”

Morgan nodded. “Are you going to get it finished?”

“Definitely. Funny thing is, now that I really am past my materialistic self, I don’t have the money to finish it. It’s at least five more hours of work.” She shrugged. “Do you have any tattoos?”

I could trace them with my tongue if you do. Honey bit her lips together as if that would ensure her thoughts wouldn’t fall out of her mouth.

“Count tattoos in with lemons and chocolate for me. My cousin tried one once. We have similar allergies. After his failed attempt, I never bothered. But I like them. Your flowers are pretty. They suit you.” Tattoos were not going to be a deal breaker with Morgan. That made Honey very happy.

Honey wanted to reach up and brush his hair with her fingers. There was so much more to this man than a good smile and plaid shirts. Why couldn’t she see that before? She reached for her pendant, a safe alternative.

“You keep playing with this.” Morgan’s fingers grazed her collarbone as he captured her pendant. Her breath caught. His fingers made her skin tingle. She could feel the heat radiating from him.

“It was a gift,” Honey whispered. The pendant had forza engraved on one side. “Strength.” Morgan translated the Italian.

“You speak Italian?”

“Some. Not enough to say I speak it. Do you know what the pattern is?”

“Just a pattern.” Honey found it hard to focus. Morgan filled her senses, and she wanted more.

He dropped the pendant. “Just a pattern? And I thought you were into art.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “It’s the pattern from the Piazza del Campidoglio. Most people wouldn’t know what that means, so I tell them it’s a pretty pattern. I gather you recognized it?”

“Yeah, I’m familiar with the Capitoline Hill and Michelangelo’s work. I was wondering if you were.”

“Honestly, I am because of this.” She held the small gold disk up. “The last designer I worked for sent it to me. Sophia di Lorenti, an Italian designer. I missed out working on this collection, which was inspired by Roman architecture. Anyway, it’s become my talisman, a reminder to keep strong.”

The bell of the door jingled and Seth clattered back into the café. Honey jumped nervously from Morgan’s lap. She grabbed Morgan’s hand and was out the door before Seth could say anything.

* * *

Honey walked towards the pizza-by-the-slice place. She felt like she never had enough time for break, even so, she dragged her feet. She should be seeking a meal with more protein to keep her going until closing. For some reason, anything with meat on it would simply take too long. The deli would be closing, if it wasn’t already closed, so no pasta salad. As she navigated her way between tourists, she chided herself. She could have gone up the hill to the grocery store or succumbed and gone to the fast food place. But pizza had sounded so good.

She walked past an open air bar when she thought she heard her name.

She paused and looked around confused.

“Honey, in here.” A deep voice called to her from inside the bar.

She turned and saw Morgan inside waving to her. She walked up to the fencing separating the sidewalk from the restaurant. “Oh, hi, Morgan. I didn’t see you there at first.” Morgan sat a few tables in from the open patio at a tall round bar table with a beer.

“Where you headed?” he asked.

“I’m on break. I was headed over to get some food.” She pointed over her shoulder indicating the direction of the pizza place.

“Come join me.” He waved her in.

“I don’t have time. I just need to grab something.”

“I have a big order of wings coming. You can share.” He grinned at her. “You do eat chicken?”

“Yes, I eat chicken,” she chuckled. “Sure.” She shrugged and turned to head back into the bar.

She arrived at his table as the waitress delivered a platter of chicken wings. Honey sat to join Morgan and asked for a glass of water.

“You sure I’m not taking food away from you? What is this—a double party plate?”

“I was hungry, and I like chicken wings,” Morgan explained with a grin. “Look, if I think you’re eating too much—” Honey froze at the words. Bryce had always been overly critical when he thought she was eating too much. “—and I’m still hungry, I can always order more.” Honey sighed in relief. No commentary on her eating.

“Well, thank you.” Honey reminded herself Morgan was not Bryce. Other than being male and having dark hair, they were nothing alike. Nothing. “More protein and good company,” Honey finished.

She bit into a meaty wing piece and hummed in appreciation of the taste. “I always forget they have really good wings here,” she said between bites.

“Do you eat here often?”

She shook her head. “Not enough time. They don’t take phone-in to-go orders. That’s the only way I would be able to have enough time on one of my breaks. It’s a tourist place. They want to get you in and drinking. Not so much feeding the locals.”

Morgan nodded in agreement. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Honey furtively looked at Morgan through her lashes. No eye contact. He was always focused on something else when she glanced at him. Looking around to see what Morgan might be looking at, Honey became distracted by a broadcast report on one of the bar’s many televisions.

“What’s up?”

Honey shook her head. “Stupid news over stupid things.”

Morgan looked at her quizzically.

“We live in the future, right? I mean we are well into the new century and these things—” She waved her hand at the TV, a chicken bone in her grasp “—shouldn’t still be an issue. Race riots, human rights, marriage issues. Shouldn’t all of this have been worked out by now?” She noticed the bone in her hand and set it on the side of the plate where they were placing the remains of their wing feast.

“How so?” Morgan prompted.

“People are not only how they appear or who they love. And no one else should prevent someone from access to human rights based on skin color or who they want to marry. They’ve passed laws—time to move on.” She shrugged.

“What if they are simply trying to protect people?” Morgan gave her an odd little smile, just at the corner of his lips. What was that all about?

“From what?” she snapped. She did not like the idea that she was eating with someone who did not support human rights, crush be damned.

“Mutants. Aliens.” Morgan announced.

Honey relaxed. Morgan was making conversation not arguing politics with her. “You mean like in the movies? Like the guy who can freeze the air, or transport from place to place, or the guy with the knives that pop out of his knuckles?”

Morgan made a fist and a kakshew noise as he mimicked the motions of the character with the long blades bursting from his fists.

“That’s hot,” Honey pointed at his fist. “Okay, yes, including mutants and blue aliens.”

Morgan cocked an eyebrow at her.

“What? I watched a lot of anime as a kid. Blue aliens are totally hot,” Honey defended herself.

“Okay, so if you wanted to marry a blue alien or mutants with dangerous knuckles, you should be allowed to?” Honey nodded at his understanding. “What if excessive body hair was your mutant power?”

Honey laughed. “You mean like a yeti or something?”

Morgan nodded.

“Well, yes, they should be allowed to marry whomever they want. It won’t be me. I don’t have a furry fetish.”

Caught off guard, Morgan laughed up his drink. He grabbed a napkin over his face to stop the beer from spraying all over the wings and Honey. She snorted with laughter. Morgan laughed with her.

“Well, that’s good to know,” he said once he regained his composure. “No excessive hair for Honey, not even if it’s blue?”

She shook her head as she continued to laugh.

“Okay, what about supernaturals?” he asked.

“Supernaturals? Ghosts? It would be really hard to marry a ghost.” Honey’s brows furrowed as she tried to figure out where Morgan was going with this line of questioning.

“Like vampires and werewolves,” he corrected.

“Totally hot.” Honey put her hands up.

“So you’re telling me that you would knowingly marry a vampire or a werewolf?” Morgan sat back watching her.

Honey was animated, her arms gesticulating as she explained her thoughts on the matter. “It all depends really. I mean are we talking the original legends or any variation of modern versions? Dracula was freaking sexy in his pursuit of youth, but the whole ripping-the-throat-out thingy, not so good. Now if he could magically seal the wound and having your neck sucked on was really as orgasmic as they want you to believe in the books, sure, why not?”

“Do you think they’re out there? Vampires, werewolves?”

“Mutants? I don’t even think as humans we really know what it is we don’t know. Too many weird situations that can’t be explained. Too many species we haven’t even discovered. Who’s to say mutants aren’t real. If vampires can hide really well, how do we know they don’t exist?”

Morgan nodded as she talked. “How many vampire movies have you seen?”

“All of them.”

“What about werewolves?” he asked.

“Probably. I’ve always thought of myself as a vampire girl really. I think their aesthetic appeals to me. Ethereal, yet powerful. I’ve always been drawn to things that are more tragic and beautiful. I can see why Goth culture is so alluring. But the idea of werewolves is pretty darn cool. I guess it would depend. I mean you can prepare for the full moon and what that entails. Just make sure you’re always in a place with a safe room. Shapeshifters, werepanthers, tigers, yeah. That’s scary and sexy all at once. The lack of control into a dangerous beast that’s truly frightening, but then they are always supposed to be hyper-über sexy beings.” She paused and leaned forward on the table. She pointed at Morgan. “What was the point I was making?”

“Consensual adults should be the ones deciding who they are going to marry and not policy makers,” Morgan said smoothly.

“Right,” Honey chuckled, “I got lost with the vampires.”

“Don’t forget the furries.” Morgan chuckled.

Honey rolled her eyes and shook her head. She picked up her phone to check the time.

“Sorry I have to eat and run.” She stood up. “Thank you for the wings. Do I owe you anything?”

Morgan also stood. “I’ve enjoyed your company immensely. That’s payment enough.”

“Good night, Morgan. I’ll see you later.” She turned to leave. She didn’t want to go. Honey stopped and turned around. She could do this.

“Honey,” Morgan started before she got a chance to speak. “Would you have dinner with me sometime?” He waved at their impromptu meal. “One where we can really sit and talk. Not one where you have to run back to work.”

“Like a dinner date?” Honey asked.

Morgan nodded. “Yes, a dinner date.”

“I’d like that.” I’d like that a lot, and maybe you could kiss me back. She smiled then nervously bit her lips together. He had beat her to the punch.