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“Why would you want to do that?”
He nonchalantly shrugs, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I figured I don’t want to win by default. I want to beat you fair and square because Iwillhave the best latte in town. And I want everyone to know it.”
A gradual smile spreads slowly across my face. “So confident.”
He rocks on his heels. “Always.” His broad smile prompts an even wider one from me. The sparkle in his eyes makes me laugh despite the tragedy going on around me.
“You’ve got yourself a deal. I plan on beating you fair and square.”
Petra clasps her hands together. “Oh, this is going to be so wonderful. I can’t wait to get started.”
I stare down my opponent, my eyes narrowing. “I can’t either.”
Harrison and I exchange numbers, so we can schedule a time when I can come into his shop and work on my latte.
After he leaves, I hurry back inside to assess the damage and grab my computer from my office. Thankfully, the water spared my Mac.
As I’m closing up the shop, my phone dings in my pocket and I pull it out. I glance down to see a text from Harrison.
“We should make this more interesting with a side wager. You game?”
Chapter 8
Harrison
Ismirk as I put my phone down on the counter and turn around to grab a beer from my fridge, pouring it into a frosty glass. It’s great being friends with someone who owns a brewery.
I have no idea what this side wager will be, but the way I see it is, if she accepts, I get to spend more time with her.
Pathetic? Possibly.
Desperate? Absolutely.
But when it comes to February Frost, I seem to lose all reasonable thought. Like when I saw her shop today. The water pouring from the ceiling and the tears swimming in her gorgeous eyes that she was fighting so hard to keep from falling. It broke my heart and pissed me off that she will now need to deal with all of that mess.
When she said she was going to drop out of the latte competition, it wasn’t the thought of winning by default that felt like a hand around my throat, it was the possibility of missing out on spending time with her, teasing her, being around her. I didn’t want to accept it, so I offered my shop up as a place she could use as well.
After I thought about it, it seems like a brilliant idea. I won’t cheat and watch what she’s making, but she will be on my turf, which gives me the upper hand. I’ll know where she is, what she’s doing, and with whom.
Christ, I officially sound like a damn stalker.
My phone pings, and I grab it off the counter.
February: What do you have in mind?
Shit, what do I have in mind? Well, in my mind she’s lying naked on my bed while my face is buried in her pussy, but I don’t think that’s going to win me any brownie points, considering she didn’t even want me kissing her mouth.
I need an idea.
I glance around my house as if I’ll find the answer written on the walls of the home I grew up in. I shake my head slightly, bringing the cold beer to my lips for a sip. The foam leaves a tiny trace on my upper lip, which I instinctively lick away. Setting the glass down, I fix my gaze on the contents within. A playful grin tugs at my lips as I murmur, “Foam.”
Me: Let’s see who can make the best latte art.
I’ve got this in the bag. My father taught me a lot in life and one of those things was how to draw, even with foam. I rarely do it at Mug Life and I have no idea if February does it at Deja Brew.I do know that she spies on me and probably thinks I’m not capable of doing something like that and that alone may make her believe she’s already won.
February: What’s the bet?
I sit down on the couch and drop my head back. I should have thought this through before I suggested it. My eyes close and I try to think of something that doesn’t sound like I want to suck on her like a leech.
