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Bronte aimed her attention to the ocean, quiet for a few moments before she said, “Screw your courage to the sticking place.”
Bronte was infamous for quoting lines from books, and unfortunately for Sam, none of them were ever fromTwilight. “Who said that?”
“Lady Macbeth.”
“Oh, that’s what I get? A lady trying to get her husband to kill the king.”
Chris cut off Bronte’s explanation when he called for her. “Bunny, Wes is leaving.”
She pushed her chair back. “Don’t get cold feet now. You’re halfway there. All that’s left is to tell him.”
Sam guffawed. “All that’s left, she says.”
Bronte tossed her hand up in a wave behind her head. “Better than ‘out damned spot.’”
28
Mike zipped up his suitcase. The alarm had gone off bright and early at six this morning, and after so many days of sleeping in, he and Sam struggled to wake up. He showered and dressed first, giving Sam a few more minutes to sleep in, but now that she was in the shower and he had more time to fully wake up, he needed coffee.
“Hey, peaches,” he said, leaning into the bathroom. “I’m going to run down to see if we can get some coffee to go.”
She was mid-shampoo, her hair all lathered up, her entire body exposed to him through the glass, and he soaked up the round curve of her ass, her hips and belly, the slope of her breasts. He memorized her all over again, and if someone asked, he could draw her with his eyes closed if he had to.
“You want me to see if they have cold brew?” he asked, meeting her gaze.
“Yes, please.”
“Vanilla?”
She dropped her hands under the spray of water, smiling at him. “You’re good to me.”
“That’s the point.” He rapped his knuckles on the doorframe. “Be back in a bit.”
After asking the concierge where he could find coffee to go, Mike was directed to one of the restaurants.
“How can I help you?” an older gentleman behind the bar asked.
“I’d like two coffees to go, please. Do you happen to have any flavored syrups?”
The man gestured to a few bottles lined up behind him.
“Vanilla. She likes a lot of it in her coffee. And could you put it over ice?”
“No problem,” the man said, getting to work, and a now-familiar chuckle sounded from the other end of the bar.
Mike lifted his eyes to Bobby, where he sat with a coffee mug in one hand and his cell phone in the other. “These women and their sweet coffee. What’s the point? They might as well chug a fruity energy drink and call it a day.”
Mike didn’t necessarily disagree, but he wasn’t exactly friendly enough with the guy to share inside jokes. “You’re up early.”
“I’m not much of a sleeper.”
The man behind the counter slid Mike his coffee, plain black, along with some sugar and cream if he wanted it. Mike dumped a little of both in before putting the lid on. “How’d you enjoy the trip?”
“Pretty good, yeah. I have meetings to get to in New York. I think Laney’s pissed I’m not coming right home with her.”
Mike tried to connect the dots of what he knew about both of them. “Is it hard, working together and being in a relationship?”
Bobby leaned back in his chair, stretching his back as he scrubbed his hands through his hair. “It’s not bad. She’s solid.” Then he crossed his arms, pursing his lips, and although Mike didn’t know Bobby well, it seemed like he had something on his mind, so he took a seat, waiting. “I love Laney, I do, but this trip wasn’t, uh, as easy as I thought it was going to be. Lots of talk about marriage.”
