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“What is breakfast without coffee?” Indeed. “Iced for you.” He handed over the large to-go cup. “I still don’t understand how you can drink that in December.”
I took a long sip, perching on a stool to watch as he unloaded the contents of the bag across my small kitchen island. I almost asked if I’d forgotten a meeting but I held my tongue because I didn’t want to burst this bubble where Mack spontaneously brought me breakfast in my most desperate hour of need. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserved him. He was too good for me.
“What?” The word shoved me out of the growing fantasy in my head.
“What. Nothing.”
“You were just staring into space with a dopey smile on your face.”
“No I wasn’t.” I was staring at his chest, willing his shirt to magically disappear. Heat rose in my cheeks and he smiled. “I was thinking that I need to add coffee to my grocery list so I don’t need to go all the way to Cream and Sugar for this.” I wiggled the cup, enjoying the rattle of ice despite the aforementioned incompatible weather outside.
“You are an artist with cocktails, my friend, but let’s not pretend you could make a coffee like that in this kitchen.” He gestured around the cramped space.
“And what exactly is wrong with my kitchen?”
“It doesn’t have Harley in it. Seriously, that woman does something with coffee that no one else can.”
“Maybe she sprinkles a little heroine on top, keeps you coming back.”
“Maybe,” he agreed and took a large bite of bagel.
I picked up one of the pieces, oozing egg yolk and crispy bacon peeking out from between the perfectly toasted, golden brown halves, and my mouth watered.
“So…” Mack started as he swallowed his mouthful and I tensed. Was he going to say that yesterday was fun but he’d had some time to think overnight and maybe it would be better for things to not go any further? It was too complicated, I knew it, I’d said as much, and he’d realized it too after he’d slept on the idea.
“Our new staff members have worked out better than I expected, especially Samson—I seriously thought that guy was going to quit on day one—but we still need at least two more.”
I gaped at him, my mouth still mostly full of chewed bagel.
“What? I figured seeing as we missed our weekly meeting yesterday I’d save you the trip to Rudi later, don’t even try and deny you weren’t going to come in.”
“You got me,” I mumbled and was rewarded with his triumphant smile, which shifted into something more wolfish the longer he watched me.
“What else would I be here to talk about?” He rounded the counter, coffee and bagels forgotten as his attention locked onto my mouth.
“Nothing. That, Rudi. About staff. More people, we need…” The garbled sentence trailed off to nothing as he stood over me, eyes dark like the deepest parts of the ocean. I would happily drown in all that hunger and want.
“Did you think…” he whispered, hands coming up to my face, one thumb grazing my lip. “I was here for a different kind of meal?” Oh God. His voice was low and husky and I was light headed with lust. Our mouths hovered a breath apart for a long moment. I closed the distance when I couldn't take it any more, and we met in a duet of moaned appreciation. Why on earth had we not been doing this all along? Why had I been fighting this? There was a reasonable answer somewhere in the back of my head but right now it was barely a whisper, much too quiet in comparison to the roar of my need for him. My arms wound around his neck pulling our chests flush and he lifted me onto the counter. I needed his mouth. His hands. All of him.
One arm snaked around my back as his lips explored across my cheek, then jaw, and down my neck. Teeth teased then sunk into soft flesh, any sting quickly soothed by the sweep of his tongue.
My fingers found skin under the edge of his shirt, discovering the smooth muscle that spanned his back as my thighs squeezed at his waist in a vain effort to relieve the growing pressure at my core. Did this count as date two? Could I have him naked in a matter of days if every meal counted as a new date?
His mouth climbed back to mine, tongue sinking inside, and I was lost. To him. With him. All I could do was hold on and hope I came out the other side.
“I’ve been thinking about that all morning,” he whispered as our kiss broke, his forehead resting against mine. I licked my lips, breath short, chest heaving. I knew what he meant, I’d been thinking about it too, even before I was conscious of it.
“Miranda.”
“Mir–what? Who’s Miranda?” I asked as he stepped back, leaving me slumped on the counter.
“And Henry. They were the two from our interviews who just missed out right?” He was straight back to business and my brain was still squarely focused on getting him naked. I rubbed a hand over my face and straightened up.
“Yes, Henry and Miranda.”
“I’ll call them today, see if they still need work.”
“Great, perfect.” I picked up my coffee and took an icy slurp.
