For love and coffee, p.7
For Love & Coffee, page 7
“Take your time. I’m here as long as you want.”
Forever. I want forever. Logical, no, but her heart speaks to mine. I can’t explain it. I take a few solid minutes to compose my thoughts. “She was the police chief’s secretary from soon after I was born until she retired.”
“Is her career the reason you’re a cop?”
“No, but that’s a story for a different time.”
She meets my gaze, and I continue, “Despite working full time, she was the poster mom for everything—football booster, team dinners, basketball concession stand, trucking me to and from tournaments for basketball. She was present for each of my games—home and away. Our house was the place my teammates and friends knew they could get a hot meal and a parental ear with no judgment. Despite numerous offers, I opted against playing football in college. I studied criminology and psychology; then I attended the academy.”
“You went away to college?”
“Yeah, I went to Northeastern. Boston is an amazing city.”
“It is. So much history. What about Nadine?”
“She wasn’t an athlete. Nadine has a creative mind. She was in the drama club and performed in every school production. Mom was there for her too. The hours Nadine put in before a production were equally as much but didn’t allow for spectators. We never missed any of her performances.”
Scarlett settles deeper into me, her lips grazing my neck. Little did I know her breath on my skin would spark a fire in my chest.
“You’re creative like Nadine too.”
Her words hit me square in the chest. No other woman has ever been able to make that statement. Because you never shared yourself fully with any other woman. I inwardly observe. “True, but my paintings are for me and no one else.”
She lifts her head and gazes at me before saying, “You shared them with me.”
“Before you, I never felt compelled to share all of me. Everything about you—about us—makes me feel and see things differently.”
“Our connection is bone-deep and difficult to explain. Us, the dating us, not the fake married us. Although, being fake married did spark some honest conversation.”
“Some, but not enough.”
She shifts to face me squarely. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything. I want to know the precise location of each crack in your soul so I can protect it.”
“That’s going to take time—a lifetime even.”
“It might. Considering you’re already my wife, I think we’ll have enough.”
“We just might,” she replies.
I shift with her in my arms into the corner of the couch. The silence falling around us isn’t uncomfortable. It’s filled with the promise of more. More of what a solid relationship is made of: trust, honesty, intimacy, and love.
Chapter Eight
Scarlett
With classes, working at the hospital, and caring for Carol, the last few days have passed in a whirlwind. I hurry out the door to class later than normal. Luckily, Zack’s townhouse is closer to school than my condo. I plop down in my seat and scan my texts.
Lia: Hey girl! Checking in. I miss you.
Me: Hey! Miss you too. I’m good.
Lia: Free for lunch?
Me: Sorry, having lunch with Zack. You can pop by if you want.
Lia: Zack, huh?
Me: Yeah. I decided you were right.
Lia: Of course I was. See you Saturday.
Me: See you then.
Choosing to date Zack came from more than Lia’s astute observation, but either way, she was right. He has an innate quality that settles me. The contentment and warmth I feel with him, from him, is unique to him. From our recent talks, I’ve discovered he hasn’t truly shared his emotions about his mom with anyone until he opened his heart to me. The significance of him choosing to divulge his innermost thoughts and feelings to me is equally as telling as me sharing with him. No one knows about my childhood or my mother, outside Savi and Lia. No one has ever asked.
I note the time and the tardiness of my professor.
Savi: Hey. How is the new job?
Me: Hey. It’s a good fit.
The pain Zack is going through given Carol’s diagnosis is difficult to watch. I’ve seen many family members go through it when I spent my rotation at the memory facility. My visceral reaction only happens for him. It strikes me hard—I care about him deeply already.
Savi: And the guy?
Me: He’s great and will be coming to the gala with me.
Savi: Perfect! Let’s set up a time to design gowns with Kelly soon.
Me: Sounds good. Love you.
Savi: Love you too.
I skip over to my emails and begin sifting through and swiping away the spam. There’s one with my shift schedule for the hospital from Willa. I glance at it and note I have a day off next week. Sweet! Given the fifteen-minute rule for a teaching assistant has passed and we’re nearing the thirty minutes for a professor, I pack up my things and head out the back of the lecture hall.
Me: Are you opposed to meeting somewhere other than campus?
Zack: No, what do you have in mind?
Me: My place? I’ll grab sandwiches and meet you there.
Zack: That works.
Me: Any requests?
Zack: Surprise me.
I smile and make my way to the deli near home. I should know what my husband would want on his sandwich, but I’m guessing here. Armed with two subs, chips, and two different drinks, I park across from my condo beside Zack’s car.
He’s leaning against the door scanning his phone. “Hey, gorgeous,” Zack greets me when he opens my door. On his day off, he looks hot. Disgustingly hot. He’s wearing a dress shirt and dark jeans under a light jacket.
“Hi.” I take his outstretched hand and slide to the rear door.
He draws me into his body and kisses me with consuming desire. Can’t blame him, I feel it too. I’m trapped between Zack’s hard body and my car, savoring his lips and mouth.
I fist his shirt and tug his lower lip between my teeth. “We should go inside,” I manage.
He raises an eyebrow and retrieves our lunch and my school bag from the back seat. Once we’re inside, he sets the bags on the island, and we hang our coats.
He pulls me flush against him and kisses me breathless. Each time our lips meet, I’m nothing more than a heroine in an old movie when the hero finally makes his move as the curtains close. “Are we alone?”
I twist in his arms to check the key bowl by the door and the coatrack. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Which way to your room?”
“Not hungry?”
“You, now. Sandwiches, later.”
I laugh. “There.” I point over to the right, past the kitchen.
Zack wraps my thighs around his waist, his grip on my hips possessive and hard enough to leave no question how much he wants me, and walks around the island. While he moves, I work my way down his shirt opening an inch at a time. I hook my finger around the neckline of his undershirt and tug downward, so I can drag my tongue down his neck and mark his chest with kisses. His crisp, clean scent surrounds me.
After he sits on the edge of my bed, I grasp the sleeve of his shirt and unclasp the buttons. Hurriedly, I push the shirt down his arms and lift his tee overhead.
“Better?”
“Much. It’s a sin to hide all of this from me.”
“Is it now?”
“Uh-huh.” I lean in and continue marking his skin as low as I can reach.
When I run out of space, he curls his arm around me and twists so he’s hovering over me on the bed. “My turn, gorgeous.” Without hesitation, he lifts my thin sweater overhead and casts it to the floor.
The warmth of his mouth on my skin as he travels south has me clenching my thighs together. Fortunately and unfortunately, the movement doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Right here?” He presses another open-mouthed kiss to the crook of my neck. “Or here?” He draws his tongue down the sweet-smelling valley between my breasts again.
“Both,” I rasp out. No one has ever asked me my preferences before. We’re still mostly clothed, and I’m soaked with need. When I open my eyes, I note a puzzled look on his face. “What?”
He skims his finger along the lacy edge of my bralette. Prickles of awareness rise on my skin. “This is sexy as hell, but how does it come off?”
My lingerie choice for today is a navy lace bralette and matching bikini-cut panties. Giggling, I set my hand on his hard chest and push us to sitting. “Allow me.” I cross my arms in front of me and bare my breasts to him. His magical hands mold to my mounds as he nips my taut, rosy peaks in turn.
I arch into him, silently begging for more. He obliges as I work the buckle of his jeans. Zack freezes the moment I slip my hand around his thick length.
Between pants, I ask, “Did I miss something?” A blinding red stop sign for instance.
He releases me from his mouth as his flecked hazel eyes meet mine. “No, you didn’t.”
The ability to read his thoughts would be helpful in this moment. Before I can overthink my actions more, I stroke him twice. His eyes snap closed, and he pushes out a harsh breath. I’m going to need more information… later. Instead of more words, he continues his quest to overwhelm me with spikes of need. Each caress of his tongue sliding down my body causes me to lose my grip on him.
I frown from the loss of him as I assist in wiggling out of my leggings, and he pushes his jeans to the floor. Zack continues upward from the tops of my feet to the point of my hip. Each lingering touch forces my spiraling need tighter in my belly. Gripping the sides of my panties at my hip, he tugs down toward my feet. After removing them, he hovers over me, skims his lips to mine and his fingers to my core. As he slips his finger between my folds, the friction only adds to the coil of pleasure compressing in my center.
“How long has it been since someone touched you?”
Given the pool between my thighs, his question makes sense. I consider offering an in-depth answer but opt for a simple one instead. “A man… over a year. Me… a few days.” My response earns me a lifted eyebrow. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
A low growl emanates from Zack as he plunges two fingers into my heated center while sidling closer to me. He sets delicate kisses along my jaw before taking my mouth in earnest. My inner muscles contract around him. Waves of decadent pleasure course through me. When he adds a third digit and curls all of them, my body shudders and quakes in exquisite ecstasy. Self-induced orgasms never feel this good. A stark realization hits me as the pulses between my thighs diminish slowly. “I don’t have any condoms,” I admit, feeling defeated.
“Neither do I.” His forehead meets mine.
“We should get some.”
“We should and soon,” he replies.
I reach between us and surround him in my hand, stroking him in time with his steady swirls on my swollen nub. The pressure builds within us separately, and we explode at once.
As our breathing slows, he asks, “Do you have a towel?”
“I’ll get you one.” Soon after, I return with a warm wet cloth.
“Thanks.” He cleans up and moves to the edge of my bed. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
“Why did you freeze?”
“Not used to you—to us—yet.”
“Meaning?”
“I would prefer not to compare you to my ex, especially right now. You make me feel untethered, but in a good way. Does that make sense?”
“It does. You do the same for me. When I’m with you, I feel free of the restraints life has put on me, as if I could make a life for myself with my childhood baggage tucked in the attic.”
“You can.”
I cup his jaw and kiss him tenderly. With a quick glance at the clock, I hustle around my room and gather my Perk uniform for the final time.
“When do you need to leave?” he asks, tugging on his jeans.
I’m distracted by the slab of carved granite before me, despite my current time crunch and recent exploration of the same.
“Stop staring like that or you won’t be on time for your last shift.”
I tug my lower lip between my teeth. “What was your question? Oh… I need to leave here in thirty to be on time.” I tug on my clothes, replacing my sweater with my Perk shirt.
“Go eat. I’ll be right out,” he instructs.
I steal a kiss to hopefully quelch my desire to climb him like a tree and slide back between my sheets, then hurry to the kitchen. “Do you want the turkey or Italian combo?” I ask aloud.
“Either is fine for me. I would prefer the salt and vinegar chips though. I saw them through the bag.”
I’m about halfway done with my sandwich when Zack slides in beside me.
“Which iced tea do you prefer?” I point to the bottles.
“Both are fine, but I would choose the raspberry over the peach.”
I grab the peach tea, finish my sandwich in record time, and hurry back to my room for a different jacket.
“I’ll clean this up. Call me when you get home.” He threads his hand into my hair and splays the other on my back. His kiss stops all rational thought and makes me melt into a puddle of mush. No consideration is given at this time for his magical fingers and the consuming orgasms he causes.
“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”
“Bye, gorgeous.”
I slip out the door and skip to my car. Ideally, I won’t be alone on shift today. I park in the lot behind the Perk just in time. After I toss my bag and keys in the locker, I meet Becca at the counter.
“Hey, Becca.”
“Hi, Scarlett. I’m glad I didn’t miss you. I’ll be right back.” She returns with a sparkly gift bag.
“We got you a little something to commemorate your time with us. We’ll miss you.”
I pluck the tissue paper and find a super cute coffee mug key chain in the bag. There’s also a card signed by the entire staff, including Kelsey.
I hug Becca. “Thank you. This is perfect! The Perk was my first real job where I felt at home. Leaving for one in my field wasn’t easy, but I can’t do it all. I’ll stop by once everything settles after the boards.”
“You’re welcome. I’m off. See you around, Scarlett.”
I wave and start cleaning the tables. When I finish restocking the sugar and cream bar, Kelsey emerges from the kitchen.
“Hi, Kelsey. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I wasn’t. I just got here. Val wasn’t having a great morning. I wasn’t able to finish what I needed to. Will took over. How is the new job?”
A memory of Zack hovering over me from earlier flickers through my mind. “It’s good. My patient has Alzheimer’s and is declining, but it’s fulfilling.” Sad to see Zack so wrought with pain though.
“How did you find the position?” Kelsey asks.
“My patient’s son contacted Willa.” As if I called him, Zack steps through the front door.
“Hey, Smithson,” Kelsey states.
“Hi, Mrs. Ramirez.”
“What can I get for you?” she asks.
“I’ll take a large coffee, but I’m here to talk with Scarlett.”
“I see.” A pleased look crosses Kelsey’s face. Either she talked to Willa or her husband about the job. Perhaps the look is about Zack and his visit during my shift.
“I’ll get his coffee.” I move behind the counter and start to pour. Zack and I exchange a few words without speaking while Kelsey looks on. I hand him his coffee, already prepared with cream and sugar. Is it odd for a barista to know a customer’s order? No. Is it odd for me to know Zack’s considering I don’t work mornings? Yes, and Kelsey is wholly aware.
“Thanks.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out my phone. “You left this on the island.”
I extend my hand toward him. The warmth of his skin on mine is welcome and makes me ache for more. Only when Kelsey knocks the napkins to the floor do I recall we aren’t alone.
“It was great seeing you, Smithson.”
“You too, Mrs. Ramirez.”
However many years later, Kelsey stills smiles at her married name. After expeditiously collecting the napkins, she ducks into the kitchen.
“I didn’t know Kelsey would be here tonight,” Zack mumbles.
“Normally, she isn’t. Are we a secret?”
“No. Hell, I wanted to claim you at the hospital when the soccer players were flirting with you.”
My cheeks flame. None of the athletes were inappropriate, but two of them asked for my phone number. It was a welcome change to say I wasn’t single, albeit newly taken. “I was trying my best to temper my looks in your direction.”
“I caught them.” His hand slides to the curve of my ass, away from any possible prying eyes. “I’ll talk to you later.” He presses a sweet kiss to my cheek before stalking to the door.
Immediately, my phone lights up with a text.
Zack: I would’ve kissed you more deeply if we didn’t have an audience.
I turn and find Kelsey pretending to search for something behind the counter.
Me: I understand. This is going to require some sharing.
Zack: Share discretely please.
Me: I will. I’m as private as you are.
Zack: I know. Talk to you later, beautiful.
I take a few breaths and return behind the counter, prepared for the inquisition.
“Have you two been dating since he spilled coffee on you?” Kelsey asks.
“No, it’s recent. We would appreciate your discretion.”
“Of course.” Her quick and measured response indicates discretion is limited to certain individuals. If I had to guess, the blue wives club, which includes Kelsey, Willa, and Maggie Washington, will know before my shift ends. Cap will know before morning if he doesn’t already.
I shake my head and greet the customer who is eyeing the remaining pastries in the case. Kelsey slips back to her office as I take the customer’s order. The rest of my shift passes at a measured pace. I close down the café and seek out Kelsey.
“Everything is closed up. Front door is locked, lights out,” I inform her.
