Passing back by me, she glanced in my direction and once again, winked as she smiled. Okay, now she was flirting with me. That was no casual smile and...the wink as pronounced. A few moments later and she stood right next to me. “Your coffee,” she said, extending her arm, cup in hand. No wedding band. I smiled. “What type of sweetener would you like?” she asked. “Just put your finger in it,” I teased. “Sugar, or artificial?” she replied. “Sugar is fine,” I replied. She reached into her apron. She told herself to stop worrying about it and to stop being so paranoid. From her dark, out-of-the-way corner, she saw him enter. His grey hair was cut short and she could see where he was balding in the center of his scalp on top. Some young women would just say that he was too old if he had hit on them, but, to Cheyenne, he was "beautiful". Her hands already longed to reach out and touch the slightly wrinkled skin of his arm; she wanted to run her fingertips gently along his jawline. . More

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