I need to stay focused on this caseload. It needs to be my number one priority; instead, Kendall’s face and body show up in my thoughts on repeat. I try to shake them off, but she’s ingrained in my mind.
My bag is packed, and I’ll shower at the gym before heading to the office. It will be another late night working on the case. The gym isn’t busy at this time of day, which works well for me. Inand out, ready for the day. I’m on autopilot through my workout, and next thing I know, I’m pulling up and parking in front of the coffeehouse.
My head leans back on the headrest as I close my eyes and rub the center of my forehead. This woman has a hold on me. I can’t stop thinking about her. Her legs. Her sassy and sarcastic mouth. Bringing my head back down and blowing out a sigh, I open my door and head inside the Saxville Coffee House.
I’m hitting it up at a good time; it doesn’t look too busy as I peek in through the storefront windows. I walk in and all I can smell is coffee, bacon, and some sort of muffin. After that workout, I could eat a few breakfast sandwiches. Music pumps through the speakers, and all I can see are dark wood floors, tables, and chairs, with a few booths inviting me in further. All the way to the counter, where they display dozens of muffin tops, cinnamon rolls, homemade Pop-Tarts, and what look like cake pops. The menu above is all written on a blackboard in chalk. There are so many choices, but I stick with my usual. They do have the best pistachio-flavored coffee; it’s smooth, and I like it black with a couple of sugars.
I take a few seconds to glance around to see if I know anyone. Okay, maybe a specific someone. She would stand out with her fiery red hair. She isn’t here, and I swallow hard. My shoulders slump just slightly. Her salon is right down the street. The odds of her being here seem high, but I’m out on a limb.
Who am I right now?
I order my coffee, and I almost ask for a mug to stay a little longer. Just in case Kendall walks through the door.
“Dane, right?” asks the barista. I come here often.
“Yes,” I answer, and she writes my name on the cup.
She’s cute enough. Maybe I can fuck someone else and get Kendall out of my head. My cock drives the ship, and he has no reaction—not even an inkling. Nothing.
I order a turkey bacon breakfast sandwich on a croissant to go, but decide to sit for a bit at a table that has a straight line of sight to the door. You never know; it might be my lucky day.
My phone chimes, and I look at the screen. It’s Logan, wondering when I’ll be in the office. I let him know I’ll be there within the hour. The office is only a twenty-minute ride from here, but I leave a buffer, just in case.
The coffeehouse bell dings, and I lift my head as the door opens. A flash of red hair spikes my heart rate, and my chest is heavy. Just as I lift myself up off the chair, I see a guy behind her holding the door. I sit back down and observe.
Wait, are they together?
She doesn’t seem like a woman who would cheat on her boyfriend, since I don’t see a ring on either of their fingers. But I guess Maggie didn’t seem like that kind of woman either—and she cheated.
Observing like a hawk as they interact, I watch from my corner. She is sporting a bright pink skirt that falls a couple of inches above her knees, paired with a white button-down top. My eyes roam down her long, strong legs to those studded heels. Her red hair is flowing around her. It reminds me of that night when her hair spilled all over my pillows. The mere thought of her like that sends a jolt straight to my dick, and the damn thing twitches, making me have to adjust myself. Guess he isn’t dormant. He just didn’t want the barista, but Kendall? He’s all in.
Tracking her through to the counter, I listen to what she orders and file it for future reference. Medium iced mocha with almond milk. I’m so lost watching her that the barista has to say my name louder the second time. Oh shit! It still isn’t busy here, and Kendall turns around just as I stand up and walk over to the counter. Our eyes meet, and she smiles, looking happy to see me even after her stern text the other day.
“Dane, what are you doing here?”
To see you, I want to say. The coffeehouse is a couple of blocks away from her salon. I’m here on purpose. And she knows it.
“Just grabbing the best pistachio coffee in town.”
“You live in town?”
“I do,” I say, nodding.
Her eyes widen and flicker with surprise. She steps forward but then hesitates for a split second before she wraps her arms around me. “Thank you so much for what you did with the building inspector. I have everything we need to host our opening celebrations in a few weeks.”
She’s stiff and a little awkward against me, but once I hug her back, she melts into my embrace. Feeling her body against mine, the smell of her watermelon hair, and she ever so slightly rubs the back of my neck with her thumb. It sends shivers down my spine. An unfamiliar sensation, but this woman has an effect on me like no other.
As she loosens her hold, I tighten my arms briefly and then let her go slowly. I stare back into her eyes. “You’re very welcome, and you deserve to open without that douchebag, Roland, holding you up.” Then I remember we aren’t here alone. “Who’s your friend?” I can’t help myself; I need to know.
She turns to the guy standing next to her and says, “This is Blake, my contractor.”
I offer my hand. “Attorney Dane Walsh.”
“Nice to meet you…Dane.”
We both squeeze a little tighter than we normally would. I wonder what his deal is. Wonder if anything is going on between the two of them.
And why would that matter?
