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“No, my meeting was pushed back to ten, and I needed coffee,” I say, moving around her as I pull my wallet from my back pocket. “I’m buying by the way. My way of saying thank you for the delicious dinner last night.”
She laughs. “Well, thank you, I appreciate that. My meeting was pushed back, too, but I have a couple errands to run. So, sadly, I will have to take my food and dash.”
I hand my card over to the boy. “No worries. I’ll see you tonight.”
“That you will,” she says, taking the brown paper bag and to-go cup he slides onto the counter. She lifts her coffee in a silent toast. “Seven o’clock. I’ll wear my tweed miniskirt to match that sexy vest.”
I watch her go for a beat before turning to collect my own bag and cup.
“Do girls really like tweed?” the kid behind the counter asks.
I shrug. “Not sure, but I’m glad she does.”
He smiles. “Yeah, Kayley is cool. She always tips twenty percent.”
Kayley…
Huh. Why does that name sound familiar? And why didn’t she tell me Kay was short for Kayley?
Um, she was too busy doing magical things to your dick all night?
The inner voice has a point. It also sends sexy mental images of Kay flitting through my brain, making it hard to concentrate. By the time I make it to Manchester, I’ve only eaten half my food. But I haven’t wrecked the SUV, either so I call it a win.
And I still have time to run errands. Kay reminded me that I have a couple loose ends to tie up in Manchester, as well.
I swing into the secondhand ski shop across from the diner and grab two bags of lightly used coats from the back of the SUV that my little sister made me promise to donate while I was in Vermont. As the interior decorator of choice for the Upper East Side, Ashton runs into scads of wealthy women who don’t believe in letting their precious offspring wear a coat for more than one season—even if it still fits.
The designer brand names might not be recognized by the L.L.Bean and The North Face enthusiasts of Southern Vermont, but the quality and bright colors should please the kids. The woman stocking snow boots in the corner is thrilled to receive the donation, but not as thrilled as I am to see Kay swinging through the door just as I’m headed to the exit.
Her eyes widen in surprise, but her smile is tinged with the same wonder I feel. If two accidental run-ins in one morning isn’t a sign that fate wants us to give this thing a chance, I don’t know what is.
“Well, well,” she says as she stops just inches away, tilting her head back to maintain eye contact. “A man who shops secondhand. How very sustainable of you. I’m impressed.”
“I was actually dropping off some coats my sister collected, but the next time I need a puffer vest, I know where to look.”
She huffs beneath her breath. “No. No puffer vest. You’re only allowed to wear this vest and this vest only from now until the end of time.”
I grin. “The kid at the coffee shop asked if women thought tweed was hot.”
She leans in, sending her sweet, orange and clove scent wafting through my head. “I had a thing for Sherlock Holmes as a kid. But even if I didn’t…” Her gaze travels slowly down my frame and back up again, making my blood pump faster. “Let’s just say you look like a Scottish snack and this girl skipped breakfast.”
I frown. “You didn’t like your sandwich?”
She laughs. “No, I loved my sandwich. It’s just an expression. But you’re cute.”
Making a silent vow to continue to be terrible at picking up slang for as long as Kay thinks it’s cute, I ask, “And yourself?” I motion toward the canvas bag she has slung over one shoulder. “If you’re here to donate those snow bunny pants, I beg you to reconsider. I have warm feelings toward those pants.”
“How warm?” She leans even closer, until her body brushes against me through my vest.
“Very, very warm,” I say, resisting the urge to make out with her in the middle of the ski shop quickly becoming my full-time job. “Lava hot, some might say.”
Her eyes glitter. “Well, then you caught me in the nick of time. I guess I can make room for them in my closet somewhere.” She turns, nodding toward the door. “Walk me to my car?”
Touching my hand to the small of her back, just above where her ass is looking phenomenal even in simple black dress pants, I thank the universe for this chance encounter. I owe last night in part to those skintight snow bunny pants.
Kay stops beside her Volvo and opens the back door, tossing the bag inside. Then, she turns, loops her arms around my neck, and kisses me until my head spins and I’m as hard as I was last night in her bedroom.
She shifts her hips forward, rubbing against me with a soft, appreciative sound that makes the situation even worse. “Think we have time for a quickie behind the ski shop?”
