Her head tips to her shoulder. “You didn’t have to.”
I shrug. “It’s no big deal.”
Wren’s slender fingers wrap around the cup, brushing mine. “Thank you. How’d you know I’d be in?”
I laugh. “You’re always here.” I lean in closer, my lips skimming the shell of her ear, and goosebumps break free across her skin. “And I saw your truck down the street.”
She smiles softly as she looks past me, mouthing athank youto Julia, I assume.
“Shall we?” I ask, gesturing toward the door, and she nods. We step in line next to each other, and I hear Joe Whittley and his buddies whispering as we pass. I reach forward, pushing the door open, and wait for Wren to walk through. It’s a tight doorway, and her chest brushes against mine. I’m instantly transported to her cottage and the way her bare chest felt against mine as she rode me with abandon, finding her pleasure. I hiss out a breath, and when she smiles up at me, pride flares in her irises.
Yeah, baby, you still drive me wild.
We walk along the sidewalk toward the parking lot as cars pass us on Main Street. I watch out of the corner of my eye as she takes a sip of her matcha.
“This is really good. Thank you.”
I nod. “Anytime.”
We approach her dad’s truck, and I reach for the handle, pulling the door open. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at me. “How’d you know it wasn’t locked?”
“The lock has been broken for years.” I glance away from where she’s assessing me. “I borrowed the truck when I first got back into town for a few weeks until I got my truck.”
She nods. “That makes sense.”
It’s my turn to be confused. “There was a pack of cigarettes left in the door. I didn’t think my dad picked up smoking.”
I huff a laugh. “Ah, yeah, those would’ve been mine.”
“You know,” she starts, resting her back against the open door frame. “Smoking is a bad addiction to have.”
“Well, now that you’re back in town, and we text daily, what do you think about becoming my addiction again?”
She snorts a laugh, narrowing her eyes. “Did you really think that’d work?”
I shake my head. “Nah, but I had to try.”
“Thanks again for the matcha,” she says, climbing into the truck. I watch as the bottom of her shorts flare out, flashing the crease of her round ass. I groan as my eyes flick to the sky. “See you around, Riggsby.”
“We’re back to that?” I ask as she reaches for the door, her hand wrapping around the crank as she lowers the window.
I close the door once the window is lowered. She shrugs and flashes me a flirty smirk. “Maybe.”
Firing up the truck, she shifts the gear into reverse.
“I’ll be seeing you, Whiskey,” I shout as she backs out of the parking space.
“We’ll see,” she calls back.
Yeah, we’ll see.
“You’re late,” my sister says from behind the receptionist’s desk as soon as I walk through the glass door.
“I brought coffee,” I say with a slight wince, lifting the coffee in my hand as the heavy door shuts behind me.
She pops up from the chair and rounds the desk. “All is forgiven.”
I huff a laugh as the smell of hair chemicals and shampoo greets me. I recognize the next song as soon as it switches over, thanks to Audrey’s obsessive need to play it on repeat. Sabrina Carpenter’s “Manchild” plays from the speaker system, louder than normal.
