Page 32 of Naked Coffee Guy
“She’s with me.”
There’s a brief silence on the other end. Then, “Mac?”
I flex my jaw, if only to keep from grinning like a fucking idiot. Maren’s obviously talked about me to her friend, which means she broke one of her own rules. I’m not as secret as she’d have me believe.
“Yeah.”
“So listen, I know Maren is a big girl and can take care of her own,” Claire says into the phone. “She could probably even kick your ass, though I hear you’re a tank. But she’s also my best friend. If you hurt her, I swear to god, I’ll hunt you down and make you pay.”
This time, my smirk breaks through. I hide it with a cough, shooting a side glance at Maren. Figures she’s watching my every move.
I grunt my agreement, then hand it back to Maren. She glares at me, but I see a hint of curiosity in her eyes. I’m starting to wonder if she’s actually angry, or if she’s just using it as a front to keep me at arm’s length. Then again, the fact that she even got that angry seeing me with someone else… again. Does she think she’s already mine?
“Yes,” she whispers into the phone, then it’s her turn to hide a smile. I can hear Claire squealing through the phone, even though Maren has stepped a few feet away, her back to me. I move closer again, but this time it’s not to listen in. I wrap my arms around her, then wait to see how she reacts.
“I’m not going to do that,” Maren says to Claire. She turns remaining in my arms, her face inches from mine. I stand my ground, my eyes daring her to make a move. She doesn’t, but she also doesn’t step away. Instead, she matches my gaze, even with the phone attached to her ear.
“I’ll leave my locations services on,” she finally says, “but don’t look for my body until tomorrow.” Her hand has found my chest, and I am well aware of the pressure of her fingers, almost as if they’re touching my skin. Her palm remains still, but her fingers trace a hypnotic circle. I keep my stance rigid, but inside, she’s turning me to lava.
She finally hangs up, and I have completely forgotten why we are out here and not tangled in my sheets. We stare at each other, the electricity building between us until it feels like a goddamn inferno in my chest. I lick my lips, preparing to dip my head to her pretty mouth, when she slams her hands against my chest with such force that the current is broken.
“What the fuck, Maren.”
“Who is she?” she demands.
And that’s when it all comes back. The look of hurt on her face. The way she stormed out of that restaurant. How obvious it is that this woman cares about me more than she’ll ever let on. I bite back a smirk, then resist the urge to flinch when she lands an icy glare on me. I’m not one to cower—I’ve been through too much shit to be afraid of anything—but damn if this girl doesn’t have some serious sass. I’m half tempted to rile her up, just to see her in action. I don’t, though.
“She’s not who you think, I’ll tell you that much.”
“You know what I’m thinking, asshole?” She slams her hands against me again. I don’t move, even though this tiny thing packs a punch. “I’m thinking I had the best fuck of my life with a guy who has me re-thinking everything I’ve ever thought about relationships, only to hear crickets.”
“The best, huh?” I raise an eyebrow, challenging her to take it back. Her eyes remain like daggers, but there’s another kind of heat brimming beneath that fiery gaze.
“You’re missing the point. Why didn’t you call?”
I see the slightest wince, as if she can’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. I get the feeling that Maren isn’t one who begs, or even gives second chances.
“You’re the one who left me, Maren,” I remind her. “I figured you didn’t want me to bother you.”
“Then I see you on a date,” she says, completely ignoring anything I’m saying. “And not just any date, a date where you’re presenting her with something in a little box, which leads me to believe this isn’t just another one of your casual flings, but something more serious. Which would make me the other woman, and that’s an incredibly shitty thing because I would never try to steal another woman’s man.”
“You’re not.”
“You’re right, because I’m done, Mac. We had our fun, but I get to walk away while you get to explain to your girlfriend why you’re here with me and not with her.”
She starts to leave, but never gets that far. I push her back up against the wall, her hands pinned above her head. She could fight me, but she doesn’t. Her breath comes out in hot, sweet pants, her heart racing against my chest.
“That woman is not my girlfriend,” I growl. She starts to argue, but I press my mouth to hers, effectively shutting her up. “Are you going to listen?” I ask, still against her lips. She nods as much as she can with limited movement.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s Amanda Crawford, an estate jeweler,” I continue. “She traveled from out of the area and met me at Breakers so she could see if the sapphire Cartier brooch I have is something her boss wants in his collection.”
“You were…selling it to her?”
She relaxes a little, even though I can see she’s still wary. I wait for her to ask questions I’m not prepared to answer. I can see she’s curious, but also that she’s holding back. There’s this wall she wants to keep up, one I’m ready plow through and take what I want. But it’s also keeping her from prying. If she doesn’t pry, then I won’t either, and the wall remains in place.
This time, the wall is my advantage.
“I need to get back in there,” I say, and she immediately stiffens. “Hey.” I lean down, looking her in the eyes, my hands holding her shoulders. “Come with me. I have to wrap up this sale,” I pause, then look her up and down, hardening at the way her breath hitches. “Then I have some unfinished business to attend to.”