Page 81 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

“Would you like a complicated iced latte to go with it? Maybe vanilla flavored?”

I know for a fact that’s what Stella ordered one day in Florida. But I can’t let Charlie know that I know that—even if she does have a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Does Simon like that?” I say, trying to throw her off the scent.

She laughs. “He does, but he’s already had his fix for the morning. But I’m sure your new coworker would love it. It’s her go-to.”

“Yeah. Sure,” I try to say nonchalantly. I can tell that neither of us are buying it. “What are you making her, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Charlie starts making the iced concoction with a huge smile on her face. “Iced vanilla latte with caramel drizzle, oat milk, sweet cream cold foam, and cinnamon on top.”

That’s not hard. I should be able to remember it.

You know, in case I have to make coffee runs in the future.

Wait. No. What the fuck am I doing? It’s like my mind and body are being controlled by two different masters. My mind is still listening to me. My body and actions, though? Those clearly belong to Stella Banks.

I don’t know what I’m doing. This isn’t like me. The me I was before Florida would never just buy a woman a cake pop and coffee because it reminded me of them. Hell, I’d never knowtheir preferences to even attempt such a thing. And my head knows this and is begging me to get back to my old self. It keeps telling my body over and over again that I need to have minimal contact with Stella and any I do have should all be under the context of work.

But every other part of me? Those all split off and are doing things like getting her a coffee and a sweet treat. And saying things like sweet treat. And fantasizing about fucking her in the office for anyone walking by to see.

Who am I? This isn’t me. I’m not the guy who does nice things just because. That’s dating shit. And I’m not the guy who has uncontrollable sexual urges and fantasies.

I need to get a grip. Right the fuck now.

“Can I ask a question?”

I raise an eyebrow as Charlie comes back over with an armful of drinks. Apparently she threw one in for Simon too. “Sure.”

“Does Simon know?”

Fuck…how does she know? Apparently I’m a worse actress than Tiger.

I shake my head. I don’t know what she knows, but I need to make sure I shut this down right now. “No. And there’s nothingtoknow.”

That makes her chuckle. “Whatever you say.”

Fuck me.

“Here,” Charlie says as she hands me a tray of drinks with three cups in it, and two bags that are way heavier than just a cake pop. “Take these. I made a drink for Simon to make whatever this is less obvious. And he’s easily distracted by muffins.”

“Thanks,” I say softly as I quickly make my way out the door. I’m so focused on getting out of there that I don’t even think about exiting the diner then entering the office through the front doors. I swear under my breath, but then quickly notice Stella’s not at her desk.

I walk in and look around, finding her and Simon standing in one of the conference rooms. Her smile is shining through herlaughter as Simon tells her something that’s clearly cracking her up.

How does she keep getting more stunning every time I see her? Her blonde hair is in waves around her shoulders. She’s wearing a sleeveless baby blue blouse that’s showing off her toned arms. And then there’s the pencil skirt and heels that are making me think things that are not at all appropriate for an office.

I know my thought was that I need to get desensitized to Stella. But if this is what she wears to the office, then I don’t know if that will ever happen. My aching cock surely doesn’t think so.

I take a deep breath, think about baseball stats, and crack my neck before walking into the conference room. I quickly set down the tray of drinks and bags of pastries before taking a seat at the chair furthest from Stella.

“What do we have here?” Simon asks as he starts digging into the bags.

“I needed coffee, so I figured I’d grab a pick-me-up for everyone,” I say. Just as I’m about to continue, I see Simon take the cake pop out of the bag. “Actually, that’s for Stella.”

Her eyes go wide when she hears her name. “For me?”

I shrug as nonchalantly as I can. “Yeah. I thought you’d like it. It’s birthday cake flavor.”

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