Page 54 of Stolen Summer

Cole crossed the room, turning the piping-hot mug around so I could grab it by the handle. “I wasn’t sure how you liked it.”

I blinked at frothed foam with sprinkles of cinnamon dusted on top. This wasn’t coffee. This was a damn Starbucks drink. “You made this?”

He nodded, settling into the same chair he sat in last night. “I take coffee seriously.”

“It’s good. Like really good,” I said after taking my first sip, licking the foam off my lips.

“It’s a brown sugar espresso with vanilla foam,” he replied, lifting the cup to his mouth.

“I could get used to this,” I murmured, going back for another longer drink.

“What? Waking up in a chair?” he joked, a ghost of a smile playing over his lips.

My eyes twinkled. This playful side of Cole I liked. “No, you bringing me coffee. Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of the summer?”

He grinned, and before he opened his mouth, I knew I was in trouble. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up. I’m trying to bribe you.”

I glared at him over the brim of my coffee, which was better than any fancy drink in town. “Now I’m afraid. Coffee won’t get you much with me. If you want to bribe me, bubble tea is my weakness.”

“With or without boba?”

“With.”

“Noted. Do you want breakfast before we leave?” he asked, brows lifting as he waited for my response.

Unfolding my legs, I flexed my toes, needle prickles of feeling dancing through my feet. “Where are we going?”

“Shopping.”

My brows bunched. “Why? Your fridge is fully stocked.” At least it had been a few days ago. Surely, he couldn’t have eaten it all since then.

His grin brimmed with self-aggrandizing privilege, the silver hoop missing from the corner of his lip this morning. “You need a dress.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I hate dresses.”

Taking another long drink from his coffee, Cole brought in the long legs stretched out in front of him, leaning forward in the chair. “Why does that not surprise me? It doesn’t have to be a dress. Just something nice, preferably black.”

“Like your heart,” I quipped, my mouth moving before my brain comprehended what came out.

He stood and moved in front of me, holding out a hand to help me out of the chair, gold sparkles of amusement in his dark eyes. “Exactly.”

I stared at his outstretched fingers covered in tattoos. “Will there be booze where we are going?” I inquired, placing my hand in his.

His fingers closed over mine and winked at me. “An open bar.”

I’d need it to get through the night.

Chapter Eighteen

Twirling left and then right, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Everything about today had been a whirlwind from the bubble tea he bribed me with to the high-end shops to trying on clothes while Cole eyed me with a wicked yet critical eye as if he were an expert in women’s fashion. Frankly, he had good taste.

But my favorite part of the day, other than my second glass of boba, had been when we stopped at this little bakery on the way home, Cole swearing I couldn’t leave without trying a chocolate éclair from Sweet Symphonies.

Fuck, he hadn’t been wrong.

And I made the mistake of telling him it had been the best thing I put in my mouth. To which he had responded with wait until you’ve had me in your mouth.

I’d promptly choked on my éclair and almost wasted the damn thing by throwing it into his face. I barely restrained the impulse.