The corner of her lips twitch in a grin—one that spreads like wildfire. “Pineapple? And why’s that my speed?”
Because it tastes delicious, like I bet you do.
And what the fuck is up with my runaway thoughts?
I shrug, making the drink seem like no big deal, when really, it’s my thoughts I’m trying to downplay. “I figure anyone who wears a robe to walk her dog likes pineapple.”
Her brow knits. “Huh. Why does that feel like a dig?”
I ignore the comment, nodding to the smoothie so I can stay in control of the convo. “Try it. I guarantee it’s good. It’s got honey and coconut too.”
“Did those seem like my speed too?”
“You know what? They did.”
“Aww, thank you. You must think I’m sweet.”
“Take the smoothie, Skylar,” I say, keeping my tone stern, ignoring the teasing bait, even though she’s damn good at doling it out.
As I hand over the drink, I glance at the mug in her other hand. Holy shit, it has a lid.
“I see you’ve discovered lids for coffee cups.”
Her smirk is downright cat-who-ate-the-canary. “Actually, I learned how to make a kale smoothie for my new client.” I take the mug from her, peel off the top and…she’s not kidding. She really did make me a drink, like she’d hinted she would. And it looks good. Just the right consistency.
“You did,” I say dryly, schooling my expression. I want to grin and say,Great minds,but I don’t want to presume too much common ground when it comes to…motivation.
“Go ahead. Say it,” she urges.
“Say what?”
“Say…I was wrong. Well, sayyouwere wrong.”
“How was I wrong?” I counter.
“The other night when we texted? You didn’t think I was watching videos on how to impress your client with the best kale smoothie. But I was, Ford. Oh, I was. And the proof of the pudding is in the eating. Or the drinking. So bottoms up.”
I part my lips to make a counterpoint—actually, you weren’t watching a how-to video. You were dancing with your dog, your short shorts riding up temptingly, but that would tip my hand. So I shut the fuck up and cautiously try the drink.
But holy shit, it’s good, with a hint of sweetness and a little peppery bitterness. It’s everything a kale smoothie should be.
“You sure you hate kale?” I ask.
“I’m sure,” she says.
“All the more impressive then. This is good.”
Whipping off her shades, she smiles, and this time it’s bright and big, like her personality. Those clever green eyes twinkle as she wraps her pretty lips around the metal straw in the cup. I didn’t anticipate how dangerously sexy that’d be. The way she looks at me from under those long lashes as she drinks some of her tropical smoothie and hums.
Actually hums.Like one of those food shows where the host goes all orgasmic. I can’t look away. Hot tensioncourses through me as she rolls her lips together, then says, “Thisissweet.” She bobs a shoulder. “Just like me.”
“Good,” I mutter. My brain spins with inappropriate thoughts, and I clench my phone tighter.Focus, man. Focus.
She turns to the car. “Ready to go?”
That raises a question. “How did you know this was my car?”
“It’s neat,” she says, then wiggles a brow as she lowers her voice. “Also, I saw you get into it the other day.”
