Page 50 of Theirs to Tempt: The Marriage Claim

“I know the place.” With a nod, he pulls away from the curb.

Piper wastes no time launching into the story of her date last night with a graphic designer who took her salsa dancing.

Her hands fly as she talks, painting pictures in the air between us—the way he dipped her so low her hair brushed the floor, the spicy margaritas that made her pucker, and a goodnight kiss that curled her toes but left her wondering if there was enough spark for round two.

I listen with half an ear, her warmth seeping into me, grateful beyond words that she’s here, that this whirlwind friend who has dragged me through every crisis since junior year is still vibrating with life while my own feels hijacked.

Her knee bumps mine with every animated gesture, grounding me in the familiar chaos of our friendship even as the city slips past the tinted windows in streaks of glass and green.

The SUV slows, and Derek double-parks in front of the coffee shop with the casual confidence of a man who knows rules bend for men like the ones who employ him.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask Derek. “Coffee? Something to eat? You could be stuck with us for a while.”

“I’m good, ma’am.” He tips his hat. “But thank you for asking.”

Inside, the place is bustling with Saturday morning energy.

The exposed brick walls, industrial pendant lights, and rich aroma of freshly ground beans sweep me away from my own life.

“Do you know what you want?” Piper links her arm through mine.

“Definitely.” My emergency go-to. “You?”

“Still deciding.”

I go for a mocha, and I add the whipped cream and drizzle. And then, even though he refused, I order Derek a hearty breakfast sandwich layered with avocado, bacon, and eggs that seems substantial enough for a man built like him, along with a large coffee. Black. Because I can’t see him liking anything fussy.

Piper opts for something frothy and pink, loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles that match her dress.

We wait off to the side near a cluster of potted ferns, voices low amid the cheerful din.

“Now that we’re alone, dish.”

I tell her very little. That I had dinner at their place, and that they have a room for me. But I skip the exhibition they made me put on for their benefit.

“And what’s it like with there being two of them?”

If it was anyone but Piper, I’d keep my lips sealed. But the truth is, I’m desperate to confide in someone.

“Have they both kissed you?”

I glance around to make sure no one can overhear us. Even though we’re alone, I still lean a little closer. “Yes.”

She makes a show of fanning herself. “And?”

“Different. But…”

“But?”

“They’re both arrogant and overbearing.”

“I’d like that.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re welcome to them.”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t go for it.”

A young barista with tattoos snaking up his forearms and a shy smile slides our drinks across the counter, his gaze lingering on Piper for too long, turning red when she flashes him that megawatt smile of hers.