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“Something like that.” She laughed and turned to the barista. “Can I have a tall vanilla sweet cream cold brew?”
Mike didn’t have any idea what that was, but the young barista with a name tag of Millie tapped it into the register before looking to Mike. He pointed to the glass. “I’ll take one of those blueberry muffins and a medium coffee, please.”
“Grande,” the girl said.
“Yeah, grande. Whatever.”
Samantha snorted beside him as he paid, and he raised his brow at her.
“You’re cute when you’re huffy.”
They moved to the other end of the counter to grab their drinks before heading to the table in the corner for cream and sugar.
“I am not cute. Cute’s for rabbits and puppies.” He tossed his garbage away and turned to Samantha, finding her fighting to keep a straight face.
“Cute can be for anything or anybody,” she said, sitting down at the table he pointed to. “I think you’re cute. You don’t think I’m cute?”
Fuck no, she wasn’t cute. She was gorgeous.
She was every color of the rainbow.
She was sweet and hot and peaches and chocolate.
“Yeah, you’re cute,” he said as she wrapped her lips around the straw in her iced coffee, and images from last night poured into his head. The way she licked and sucked him had been an out-of-body experience. He had been like a boiling frog. He hadn’t even known his orgasm was even building until it consumed him.
But she’d merely smiled and lifted her shoulder, all proud of herself. And damn if he didn’t findthatcute.
Too bad those kids showed up before he could repay her.
He let out a big exhale and sat back, putting some space between them to clear his head. He sipped his coffee and nudged his muffin toward her. “So, where were you that took so long?”
She broke off a piece of the muffin. “I saw there was a sale at Ulta, and I ended up getting a makeover.”
“Ulta?” Mike let his eyes drift over her face and the makeup around her eyes, a dark purple-gray color with long, curling lashes.
“It’s a makeup store. I don’t normally wear so much, obviously,” she said, gesturing to her Black Keys T-shirt and cutoffs, like she wasn’t up to snuff.
“You look pretty. But you always do.”
She smiled shyly as she swallowed her bite of muffin. “Thanks. I wanted to get something special for my trip.”
“Trip?”
“To Los Angeles.”
He’d forgotten about the bachelorette trip. “Oh yeah. When do you leave?”
“Thursday.”
Thursday? As in the day after tomorrow. There went his hopes for the weekend. “What does this big bachelorette bash consist of?”
She put her chin in her hands, mindlessly stirring her drink. “The usual, I guess. Short dresses, strong drinks, and big dicks.”
He choked on his bite of muffin and coughed a few times. Samantha leaned across the table and patted his back. “You all right?”
He nodded and coughed again, following it with a few gulps of coffee. “Say that again?”
She sat back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. “Which part? The dresses, drinks, or dicks?”
