Page 81 of Duke
“Ugh. Work. I got a flood of invoices this morning I need to pay.”
“First of the month. Fun, ain’t it?”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “I forget the ranch is a small business too. Not so small anymore actually.”
“Blue, is there anything about me that strikes you as ‘small’?” The tendons and thick sinews of his neck pop against his skin as he turns his head to flash a flirty smile at me.
Without thinking, I reach across the cab and give him a shove. “Why you gotta be so gross?”
“’Cause it makes you smile.”
Shit, it does. “I want you to know it’s not a voluntary smile.”
“But it’s there.” He splays the fingers on the hand he’s got on the gearshift. “Sorry for the bad joke.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I do dirty work for a living. Of course I’m not sorry.” He shifts gears. “How ’bout you and I take our laptops to a coffee shop or somethin’? Get out for a while, get some work done. If you start feeling bad, I’ll take you home. If you want, I’ll help you pay your invoices too.”
My heart leaps. I don’t feel great, but I don’t feelterrible. I also like the idea of having some company right now. I thought I’d feel more settled after seeing Dr. Martinez. Don’t get me wrong, she was great. But I’m still sick, and I still feel so mixed up inside.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted Duke to stay until right now.
Oh, girl, you’re in trouble.
I’m able to ignore the small voice inside me that warns I’m getting in over my head. This is Duke’s issue to deal with too. Maybe if we spend a little more time together, we’ll be able to parse out our feelings on the issue a bit more. Can’t hurt to keep talking about it, right?
“I can pay my invoices. But coffee sounds great. Actually, it sounds kind of awful, but I could totally go for a croissant the size of my head.”
Duke grins. “You got it. Point me in the direction of the nearest laptop-friendly bakery.”
My heart’s doing a goddamn pirouette now. “Next light, we’ll take a left.”
CHAPTER 19
Coworking Space
Duke
“Oh, God,yes.”
Wheeler’s eyes practically roll to the back of her head as she bites into the biggest croissant I think I’ve ever seen. The thing is the size of a football.
I pop open my laptop, try not to pop a woody. “You and the enthusiastic sounds while you’re eating.”
“That was you.” She nods, chowing down on the croissant. “Although yeah. I kinda do everything with enthusiasm.”
Ain’t that the truth.The way this girl sucked my dick that morning in the U-Haul—
Yeah, can’t go there right now. Not while we’re in public, even if we are at a coffee shop named the Drip Drop.
It’s actually a cool little spot. Tucked into a corner in a hipster neighborhood that bustles with pedestrians and traffic, it’s a got a vibe that I’d say is part kooky French bistro, part cozy southern porch hangout. There’s an actual porch with rocking chairs and a couple big porch swings, each one occupied by tattooed twentysomethings typing furiously on their phones. Inside, groupings of cushy upholstered wingback chairs and a row of high-top tables occupy a space with beamed ceilings.
It smells like coffee and chocolate. It’s filled with the low hum of conversation, and as I sip my ridiculously priced latte, I decide I love it.
Almost as much as Wheeler loves her croissant.
“Some things have tastedreallybad lately.” She takes another bite. “But I’m just discovering that other things tastereallygood. Like, I can’t remember the last time I had a plain croissant like this. But the butter? And the flakiness? That little hit of salt too?” She touches her fingertips to her lips. “Chef’s kiss.”
