Page 33 of Not That Ridiculous

“What is this sudden obsession with lattes!” And with my cabinets?

He cocked his head. “Dunno, really. It’s not sudden, though.”

“No? Because up until Saturday when you saw my Instagram, you’ve been a flat white kind of guy, all the way.”

“That you know of,” he said mildly. “I could have been getting lattes other places. You don’t know.”

I stepped right up into his space, and poked him in the chest. “You better not have.”

He dipped his chin. “I could have been coming into your coffee shop every day for a couple of years now, checking out your menu. Thinking about trying out your latte.”

This close up, his brown eyes really were lovely. They were also very, very determined.

He continued, “Maybe I’ve been ordering a flat white for ages, but secretly wanting your latte. Maybe I’ve been thinking, I’d like to try one of those. Bet it would be sweet. Bet it would taste great. Bet I’d like it way more than a flat white. Maybe, Charlie, maybe I’ve got nothing but lattes on my mind all day long.”

I stared at him. He stared back.

Well, far be it from me to get in the way of a fellow coffee enthusiast.

“Fine,” I said.

I didn’t realise we were standing so close, or that he somehow had a hand resting at the small of my back, until he shifted and his thigh brushed the inside of mine. “Yeah?” he said.

“Yep.” I braced my hands on his chest and pushed back. “You can come home with me and I’ll make you a latte. Even though Pippa made you one this morning.”

“I don’t want Ms Carrington’s lattes, Charlie. I only want yours.”

“All right. I’ve got to finish closing and I’ll be out of here in ten minutes. Meet you at my place in forty?”

“Yeah.”

He seemed so intense about getting his latte that I almost expected him to say that he’d stay while I wrapped things up, and then frogmarch me to my car and ride my bumper all the way home. To my surprise, he headed out the back without further argument, and left me to it.

Taking work home was a terrible habit of mine. Up to this point, I’d kept it to doing accounts or placing orders, or any one of those endless administrivia tasks that seemed to eat up all of my spare time.

Taking a customer home was ridiculous.

Then again, Kevin wasn’t just a customer, was he?

8

Ispotted Kevin’s neon-blue Land Cruiser parked up in front of my house the moment I turned down my road. Kevin and Phil were waiting for me on the doorstep.

I pulled into the drive, switched off the engine, and took a moment to take in the sight of my two favourite people.

Phil was leaning against Kevin, who had an arm around him. With Kevin sitting with his knees practically up to his nose like that, they were almost the same size. Phil was in heaven. He was attached to a cuddle buddy and life was good.

Kevin looked pretty smitten himself, to be honest.

They watched with contented smiles as I climbed out of the car, slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder. It was heavy; I’d stopped off at the Co-op and picked up an extra two litres of milk, and I’d thrown in a litre of oat milk and a litre of almond milk in case Kevin wanted to really spread his wings.

“Been waiting long?” I asked as I headed up the drive.

“I came right over,” Kevin said.

Long enough, then. “How did you get hold of my dog?” I stopped in front of them and ruffled the top of Phil’s head. He nudged up into my touch, getting his big tongue around my wrist.

“What?” Kevin said blankly.

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