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Chapter Seven
Blake held open the door to the coffee shop and let Kristen walk in first.
She glanced around. “This is cute.”
“The coffee is good here, and it’s a pretty chill place. Plus they’re open late.”
“Love the name,” she agreed, walking toward the counter. “Ooo La Latte.”
“It’s pretty ingenious.”
She stopped at the counter where a man was behind the register and ordered an Americano.
Blake scanned the menu. “I’ll take your smallest vanilla latte.”
While Kristen dug in her wallet, he handed his debit card to the cashier.
She glanced up sharply. “You don’t need to buy—”
“Don’t worry about it.” He walked them toward the end of the counter to wait for their drinks. “It’s the least I can do for clam jamming you tonight.”
Her eyes rounded, her cheeks began to pinken, and when he thought she was about to let him have it, she burst into laughter.
“Clam jamming.” She held her stomach, laughing harder. “Oh my God, I’ve never heard that term. And it’s the best. Literally the best. I can almost forgive you now.”
Damn, she really did have a great laugh. He’d thought that about her last night and was reminded of it again now.
He leaned against the counter and glanced at her. “So does that mean you’re going to take me up on my offer earlier?”
Her laughter faded. “The wingman one?”
“Yeah.”
She nibbled her lip and then gave a small nod. “I think I will. But you need to swear you’re not messing with me, okay? You’re not going to keep, um, jamming my clam.”
The idea of subtly sabotaging every guy she picked had appeal, but he’d made the offer earlier with good intentions. He needed to stand by that. If she was determined to follow through with this plan, then he wanted to help pick a decent guy.
“I’m done with that.” He paused. “Unless the guy’s all wrong. Remember, that’s why I’m offering. I can read these guys better than you.”
“So, when do we start?”
“I work tomorrow, so I’d say tonight after coffee—or Tuesday night.”
“Here you are.” The barista slid two steaming cups their way. They accepted and murmured a thanks before heading off to find seating.
“How about after coffee?” She took a sip. “I don’t want to lose momentum.”
Well, that was certainly faster than he’d expected, but he couldn’t blame her. Dressed up to the hilt and looking hot, she wouldn’t want that to go to waste. But man, it’d been a long day already.
“Sure. I bet we can find a club or something.” He glanced toward the door as it opened. “Ah, here they come. I started to wonder.”
Kristen’s gaze swung toward the entrance. “I was right. James looks like a kicked puppy.”
Watching his friend follow Tori into the coffee shop, Blake couldn’t exactly disagree.
Though kicked puppy might not have been the best description. Maybe more like survived hurricane Tori or something. He looked a little beaten with his slow, uncertain stride, but he wasn’t down for the count. The spark of irritation in his eyes as he walked by to order proved it.
“Could you grab me a skinny vanilla latte?” Tori called to James. “Thanks.”
